Star Rail： Chant of the Terminal Paradise

The annual Stellanyss Harvest Day had arrived on Lucerius Star. This peculiar plant, which only fully matured under the unique interplay of Beauty and Destruction energies, secreted a sweet, honey-like sap that stubbornly dyed anything it touched a vivid sky-blue.

Harvesting it wasn't just about gathering precious medicinal herbs and dye—it was a village-wide, inevitably chaotic, and utterly joyous "Dye War."

At the crack of dawn, a small line had already formed outside Granny Moon's herb shop. Peering through her reading glasses, she meticulously handed out "battle gear": sturdy canvas gloves (their edges frayed from years of use), stiff, dark aprons starched to near-rigidity, and—most importantly—wide-brimmed straw hats large enough to shield most of one's face.

"Tie 'em tight!" Granny Moon boomed, her voice laced with knowing amusement. "Especially you, Toby! Don't come crying to me when you're stuck with blue hair for three days again!"

Toby stuck out his tongue and quickly knotted the hat's strap under his chin, leaving only his wide, mischievous eyes visible. Li Na, ever meticulous, carefully tucked her braids under her hat before securing her apron with precise knots.

Kalon, meanwhile, was given a pair of gloves far too large for him. He rolled up the excess fabric at the fingertips, his eyes burning with determination as he stared at the flower field—as if it were a battlefield awaiting conquest.

Then there was Ester.

Old Chief had shoved a set of gear into his hands. The knight stared down at the rough-sewn apron (still faintly smelling of earth) and the distinctly rustic straw hat, his ice-blue eyes flickering with rare bewilderment.

*Wearing armor to pick flowers?* That didn't seem right.

Under Anvil's good-natured grin and Luna's barely suppressed laughter, Ester stiffly—and somewhat clumsily—tied the apron around his waist and perched the slightly-too-small hat on his head. The brim slanted awkwardly, hiding his sharp brows and leaving only the stern line of his jaw exposed.

The result? A hilariously stern contrast—a knight in full battle regalia, now dressed like a farmer.

The Stellanyss field stretched like a blue velvet carpet under the morning light, dew-kissed petals shimmering, the air thick with a crisp, honeyed fragrance.

"Listen up!" Old Chief barked, brandishing his walking stick like a commander's baton. "Pinch the stem! Quick! Precise! Firm! Don't let the sap squirt out, or—" He pointed to the stubborn blue streaks still clinging to his beard from last year. "—you'll end up a blue-bearded monster like me!"

No sooner had he spoken than Toby shot forward like a tiny cannonball. "Charge! For the glory of staying clean!" He flailed his arms in what he imagined was a knightly stance—only to immediately trip over the soft soil. Li Na caught him by the collar with a sigh.

"Toby, it's 'quick, precise, firm,' not 'quick to faceplant.'"

Meanwhile, Kalon had fully embraced the warrior spirit. He took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes (as fiercely as he could), and—channeling Ester's teachings—lunged forward in what he believed was a flawless strike.

SQUISH.

His fingers crushed the delicate petals instead of the stem.

SPLOOSH!

A geyser of vibrant blue sap erupted directly into his face.

Kalon froze.

From forehead to neck, he was now coated in a perfect, even layer of sky-blue dye, his eyelashes clumped with tiny blue droplets. Only the whites of his eyes and the inside of his gaping mouth remained untouched.

He looked like a terracotta warrior dunked in paint.

Anvil, the seasoned veteran of past harvests, patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Eh, rub some off. Your ma always said blue's a lively color!"

Kalon scrubbed furiously at his face with a rag—only to smear the dye into an even more abstract masterpiece.

Ester, witnessing the carnage, barely suppressed a twitch of his lips.

Then, with the precision of a surgeon, he approached a cluster of flowers. His fingers moved like lightning—pinching the stems with flawless control, depositing each bloom into his basket without a single drop of sap escaping.

"Whoa…" Toby and Li Na stared in awe.

Kalon, still blue-faced, gazed at Ester with undying reverence.

For a while, the harvest proceeded smoothly—until Toby, bored with orderly work, eyed Li Na's neatly arranged basket.

A devilish idea struck.

He stealthily plucked a flower, crept behind Li Na, and—

SQUIRT!

A perfect blue arc splattered across the back of her neck.

"TOBY!" Li Na whirled, her cheeks puffing in outrage. She retaliated instantly, grabbing two flowers and pelting them at him.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

And just like that, war broke out.

Blue sap flew in wild arcs, splashing onto soil, grass, and—

- Anvil's arm (now striped like a tribal warrior).

- Old Chief's brand-new trousers (now polka-dotted).

- Ester's back (his apron now sporting a giant blue "flower").

Kalon, already fully committed to the blue life, joined the fray with clumsy enthusiasm.

Luna, watching from the sidelines, clutched her stomach as she laughed. Even Dr. Kava, usually unshakably stoic, cracked a smile.

"This year's medical supplies," he mused, "are going to need extra

By afternoon, the battlefield had quieted. Now came the real artistry—dyeing cloth.

Huge steaming vats of Stellanyss dye bubbled in the village square, their rich sapphire hue swirling like liquid gemstones. The adults carefully dipped white fabric into the vats, while the children—under Luna's guidance—mushed the battle-damaged flowers into paste, stuffing them into leaf funnels.

"Like this!" Luna squeezed a funnel, sending blue streaks across a cloth. "See? Like clouds… or rivers!"

Toby and Li Na eagerly tried. Toby's "art" resembled a squashed bug. Li Na's was a graceful wave.

Kalon, still half-blue, attempted a knightly crest—only to produce a lopsided blob.

Then came Ester's turn.

Old Chief shoved a funnel into his hands. "Make something for the little one!"

The knight stared at the crude tool, then at the expectant villagers.

With the solemnity of a sacred ritual, he pressed the funnel to cloth and squeezed.

…

The result?

A vaguely star-shaped smudge.

"Wow! The Captain drew a… uh… *very unique* star!" Kalon said loyally.

Toby squinted. "Looks like the bug I stepped on earlier."

Ester: "…"

Luna burst into laughter.

And then—impossibly—the corners of Ester's mouth curled upward. Just slightly.

As the sun dipped low, the village square fluttered with drying blue cloth—deep sapphire, pale sky, indigo, streaked with organic patterns.

Villagers teased each other over stubborn blue stains, the air rich with dye and cooking smoke.

Ester stood by the Radiance's ramp, the sunset gilding his blue-flecked stubble.

He gazed at the peaceful scene—the laughter, the warmth—and looked down at the blue still clinging to his fingers.

Somewhere in his ice-cold eyes, a tiny thaw had begun.

"A long-awaited rest…" he murmured.

And for once, it was enough.