Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking [34]

After listening to Venti’s explanation, Bronya felt a strange mix of melancholy and confusion.

She wasn’t a stubbornly loyal person; if she were, she would have already severed ties with Venti the moment he questioned the Supreme Guardian.

But at the same time—

Bronya held a profound affection for Cocolia, her adoptive mother, that few could understand.

Her fond childhood memories, the ideals instilled in her as she grew, and the responsibility called “Supreme Guardian” that she would inevitably inherit from her mother—these all formed the foundation of Bronya’s life.

Sometimes she wondered if her mother’s coldness and apparent lack of empathy for the people were a result of having poured all her warmth and affection into her.

But all the same, no one could justify Cocolia’s harsh measures as “necessary sacrifices,” and Bronya, as a beneficiary, certainly had no right to forgive her mother on behalf of the victims.

The sacrifices of the Silvermane Guards, for example, were made by choice, out of their own heroic resolve.

But forcing others to die unconditionally for another’s survival, wielding authority to compel sacrifices—how could that align with the concept of preservation?

For this reason, Venti and the others’ hope of ending her mother’s rule, pushing for an emergency proxy act, and having Bronya assume the position of Supreme Guardian wasn’t entirely wrong.

But to enact such a law, the Supreme Guardian would have to commit an unforgivable error, akin to Ciel’s downfall in history. Without that prerequisite, the emergency proxy act couldn’t be invoked.

Unless… she could somehow convince her mother to step down and pass the title of Supreme Guardian to her early.

However, transitioning the title of Supreme Guardian was no simple matter, and to her mother, the position would eventually be Bronya’s anyway, so why rush?

Realistically, Cocolia would never agree, not even for her beloved daughter.

As for reasoning with her mother? If she were still open to counsel, things wouldn’t have come to this.

In the end, Bronya’s choices were painfully limited.

If she were to join the resistance, her mother would feel betrayed, likely growing colder and more extreme in her disappointment.

This was a choice Bronya found herself unable to make.

Even though, deep down, she knew it would be best for her mother to step down, the bonds of family were not so easily severed.

The thought was agonizing, so much so that she almost wanted to avoid answering.

Venti sighed softly. He had anticipated her reaction, which was why he hadn’t wanted to bring this up so soon.

Yet, thanks to Svarog’s bluntness, it was now out in the open. No, he couldn’t blame Svarog—it was his own misjudgment of the depth of Bronya’s bond with Cocolia.

Wanting to ease her distress, Venti spoke up.

“I can see this is hard for you to accept right now. Whether as her daughter or as the Supreme Guardian’s successor, you need time to process this—”

“No, you don’t need to comfort me. I know that following your plan is the right thing to do. I’m just… just hesitating.”

Bronya shook her head, her face reflecting sadness and frustration.

“I’m sorry. I do need some time to think. Can I give you my answer later?”

Venti exchanged a glance with Svarog, who, sensing he had misstepped, ceded the conversation back to Venti.

Understanding that rushing her would do no good, Venti changed the subject, mentioning the pair of sisters within the Fragmentum.

Clara, who had felt she couldn’t help, perked up at this and gathered any remaining automatons from Rivet Town to search for clues in their data logs.

The older sister had bartered for goods in the past, so by setting a few parameters and asking around, they soon narrowed down a possible lead.

Though the sisters’ names were unknown, several Vagrants recalled seeing them, confirming that they were indeed real people, not figments of Bronya’s imagination.

An old scavenger who remembered them also mentioned an automaton perimeter near the sisters’ home, which, thanks to the Fragmentum’s corruption and wandering creatures, had since become an “automaton graveyard.”

But, because the area was littered with discarded machine parts, it was a common place for scavengers to try their luck. The older sister likely visited there to gather valuable scraps for sale.

With this information, they finally had a more focused starting point rather than searching aimlessly.

To help shift Bronya’s focus, Venti decided to bring her to Rivet Town. Though it was a harsh reminder, he wouldn’t indulge Bronya’s reluctance indefinitely.

He understood her hesitance and knew that deciding the fate of so many lives—of all Belobog, even—was daunting.

Compared to Venti’s unexpected appearance, Cocolia, despite her public demeanor, had indeed given all her love to Bronya.

Such deep ties couldn’t be easily broken with words. It was natural for Bronya to struggle, but the circumstances were dire; everyone needed to find their rightful place.

Bronya was, indeed, Cocolia’s daughter, but she was also the Supreme Guardian’s successor—a future leader with a duty to her people.

She could plead for leniency, insisting that her mother had reasons for her actions. But who would speak for those whose lives were irrevocably altered by Cocolia’s decrees?

If Bronya truly couldn’t bring herself to stand against her mother, Venti wouldn’t force her—he would simply find someone else more fitting.

But at that point, they would no longer be able to meet as friends.

Though he was confident that she would ultimately choose wisely, the thought of a friendship possibly coming to an end stirred Venti to act.

And so, as Bronya followed him like a lost child, silent and unwilling to part, the tension between them grew heavy.

Several times, Bronya appeared as though she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to decide.

Her expression, as if abandoned, caused Venti to pause. Distracted, Bronya bumped into his green cloak, stumbling forward slightly.

The young bard caught the once-proud swan who had lost her confidence, gazing into her dimmed eyes, their emptiness aching to be filled.

Finally, he sighed and said gently,

“It feels a bit stifling on this road. Would you like to hear a story? It might give you some perspective.”

“Sorry, I know I’m being too indecisive.”

Apologizing reflexively, Bronya looked back at him and nodded.

“Please, I’ll listen to any story you want to tell.”

“Much appreciated. This one’s actually a story meant for thought, not just entertainment. But before that, I think we need to agree on something first.”

“…Agree on something?”

Sensing that the conversation was about to touch on the city’s fate, Bronya didn’t let go of Venti’s hand. She looked at him, eyes determined.

“Our purpose—our true purpose—is to ensure Belobog’s survival, not to waste time squabbling amongst ourselves as we wait for tragedy to strike, right?”

Gone was Venti’s usual carefree attitude. He was serious now.

It was only at moments like this that Bronya could truly feel the depth of Venti’s resolve, a force hidden beneath his lighthearted exterior.

More than that, he offered her the choice to move beyond convention, to bear witness to hope—

She understood the consequences of such a choice, aware of the difficulty of the path it represented. But this responsibility was hers alone, and Venti couldn’t hold her hand forever. To keep running from it would be shameful.

With newfound resolve, Bronya nodded firmly.

“I’m with you on that.”

“Good. As long as we share that understanding, I don’t think we’ll ever reach the worst possible outcome.”

Venti’s tense expression relaxed, replaced by a gentle smile.

“Now, please, lend me your ears for this story—”

—

T/N: Thank FUCKING god for that one person who told me about Ctrl+H, helps me the fuck out with the friggin names (pardon my language sorry queen erb)