Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

"Oh, so that's how this was going to play out." Venti sighed dramatically, feigning disappointment. "I always thought I had that 'crowd-pleasing' charm, but I guess that doesn't work on machines. I'm seriously crushed!"

Predictably, Svarog didn't take the bait. Thanks to his connection with Clara, he didn't press down on Venti, either. Instead, he calmly analyzed:

"Our discussion's purpose is not to create a sense of enjoyment, Bard. I have a mission to fulfill, and you have a talent for entertainment. These two things do not conflict."

He continued, "If your aim is to bring more psychological outlets to the people of the Lower District, slowing the spread of despair, then my calculations show a 98.76% chance of you achieving that goal."

In other words, if Venti simply stuck to his role as a bard, even Svarog would acknowledge his value.

"That won't do," Venti said, shaking his head and looking up at the super-machine called "Mr. Svarog." "Poetry and performances can ease troubled minds, but they lack the power to lead people out of despair."

"Even if I devoted all my time to this, I could never reverse the grim future this city is headed toward."

Svarog's analytical systems paused for a brief moment as he detected a tinge of melancholy in Venti's expression—a hint of some emotion, foreign and intangible, held only by those from beyond this world.

"You're clear on your limitations, Bard," Svarog stated bluntly. "You should understand that by giving Clara visions of a hope you cannot realize, you will bring her not empowerment, but guilt and despair over her own helplessness."

It was likely the reason Svarog had requested this meeting. Venti's closeness with Clara meant he'd shared many exclusive stories with her, most of which involved "Mondstadt." It was one of his rare indulgences.

And now, it was time to weave those threads into the tapestry of his plan.

"Oh, has Clara told you the story of Mondstadt—the city of freedom?"

Feigning surprise, Venti watched Svarog closely. But Svarog wasn't swayed; he could read the slightest facial changes, and his analysis confirmed Venti was merely using this as an entry point.

"Clara has indeed mentioned it. But I find little value in it. Mondstadt's fragile governance and poor crisis response reveal much.

"More importantly, if one removes the contributions of 'outsiders' and 'gods,' I calculate a 0.2379% chance of Mondstadt's self-preservation in times of catastrophic crises.

"Conclusion: this scenario lacks the necessary conditions for approval."

"You're tough but fair."

Knowing he'd been seen through, Venti laughed softly yet held his ground.

"But don't you think Mondstadt's situation is, in some ways, similar to Belobog's?"

"Your argument lacks sufficient theoretical basis. Explain further."

Svarog remained stoic and intensely logical. (Not that he could be anything else.)

"Why, in a world devoid of gods, has Mondstadt continued to follow the path of freedom for centuries?" Venti asked lightly. "Is it the people's faith in the Anemo Archon, the structure of their governance, or both?"

Svarog processed for a moment, seeming to ponder something but did not interrupt.

"Let's take another angle. How would you assess the faith Belobog's citizens have in the Preservation Aeon? And how does the Supreme Guardian sustain it?"

This question caused Svarog's systems to pause again. In his era, people had wholeheartedly believed in the Preservation Aeon.

Because they had, indeed, witnessed miracles that allowed them to survive. But hundreds of years had passed since then, and the Aeon's favor had not returned.

This faith had long since eroded, leaving only a brittle shell. Nowadays, only the Silvermane Guards seemed willing to claim they still believed in it.

"So, you see?" Venti continued, his voice soft but sure, "While Belobog's citizens outwardly revere Qlipoth and even built a palace in their name, most people's first prayers are for their own needs, not the Aeon's greatness."

Svarog remained silent, listening to Venti's whispering words.

"Time has worn away trust in Qlipoth's power, leaving only an empty dependence on the authority of the Architects.

"I've seen no chapels dedicated to Qlipoth in Belobog; no true faith exists here anymore. The Guardian herself has done nothing to rekindle it, and many of her decisions have only further eroded it."

This erosion of belief couldn't be blamed solely on the people's lack of devotion.

Without signs from the Preservation Aeon, faith alone couldn't fill people's bellies or shield them from the elements.

In the Golden Theater, the packed shows were always about The Supreme Guardian, not Qlipoth.

Rather than songs of the Aeon's glory, people preferred stories of heroes they could see, written down in the ink of history.

Perhaps it was a fate that most gods would one day face…

When enough time had passed for both to process their thoughts, Venti finally spoke again.

"Let's set aside belief and Aeons for now, and return to humanity."

"If Mondstadt's survival relied on each Knight Commander's dedication, then what do you think of its current Acting Grand Master?"

Svarog replied instantly.

"To the people, Jean Gunnhildr is a knight who is sincere, kind, and devoted to her duties. To her colleagues, she is steady, trustworthy, and worthy of their confidence."

"But she is not suited to governance. She is overly concerned with the welfare of her people and micro-manages. This not only leaves her entangled in trivial matters, but also prevents her from building a strong enough team."

Svarog then added, "However, this stems from her lack of experience and does not preclude future growth.

"If you intend to compare her to the Supreme Guardian, then I will tell you that the people would likely prefer Jean. But it's irrelevant."

At Venti's gaze, Svarog looked up toward the massive gears above, the crimson glow of his lone eye dimming slightly.

"To the people of Belobog, the current Supreme Guardian, Cocolia, was chosen by the Architects. She is their lawful ruler.

"No matter how irrational or extreme her decisions are, they were made by the person entrusted to lead.

"In other words, this is a human issue. And my role is not to oppose her, but to ensure the survival of the Lower District—even if only by a single millisecond more."

As Svarog spoke, a heavy silence settled over them.

"Even if her actions are leading Belobog toward its own destruction?"

"Even so, she is a more credible leader than any from tales of heroes."

Svarog's tone was cold, yet final.

"I am aware of your doubts about her leadership. But she is the best option Belobog has."

Venti couldn't argue; even if he could summon Jean right here, she wouldn't be able to handle these issues.

As Svarog said, Jean was suited to governing a town, but these circumstances required a different kind of leader.

Jean was not a native of Jarilo-VI, nor was she entitled to determine the fate of its people.

Wildfire were in a similar predicament. Their members varied in education—some, like Natasha, had traveled beyond the walls as field medics, while others, like a certain purple-haired wild card, hadn't even completed elementary school.

Although they commanded respect in the Lower District, the complexities of the Upper District required different skills.

Even someone like Natasha, who had enough credibility to be taken seriously, lacked something crucial in the eyes of the Upper District's people.

And that was—lawful claim.

A lawful claim could come from bloodline or law. The unifying factor was that the person meeting these conditions had the right to "rule."

No matter how talented others were, they couldn't simply take away that lawful right.

They could either crown themselves and risk being branded rebels or maneuver within the bounds of law and see who triumphed in the end.

The battles for these rights had filled history books.

And Cocolia was the last victor standing on this rule.

No matter how incompetent she seemed as a "tyrant," she was the Architects' lawful "tyrant."

In a way, she represented not only the people's will but also absolute and lawful authority.

Rallying Wildfire and the Robot Settlement to storm her palace would be easy.

But that would only throw society into chaos, unleashing horrors from Pandora's box.

There had never been a Supreme Guardian assassinated openly. Even if she committed countless blunders, people would view her killers as terrorists bent on overthrowing society.

This meant that defeating Cocolia required more than brute force.

First, they'd need to drain her credibility to the lowest possible point, stoking public resentment until they wanted nothing more than to see her hanged.

Then, with enough pressure from public opinion, the front lines, and internal management, the Architects and legitimate successors would enact an emergency mandate to seize control—a total reformation of Belobog's leadership.

Only then would Belobog be saved from its final step toward the cliff, refocused on facing the threat of the Stellaron.

So, did such a person exist—someone with a legitimate claim, a sense of duty, and the will to restore Belobog's future?

As it happened, Venti knew just the person.