Tenebrous Wolf
Chapter 104: Philosophical Thinker

Chapter 104: Philosophical Thinker

After a few moments of contemplation, Klaus made his decision. Gently lifting the unconscious Morgan onto his back, he carried her toward their makeshift camp not far away.

By the time he arrived, Adrian was already tending to the fire. Seraphim appeared shortly after, still wearing her nightmare-armor.

Noticing their arrival, Adrian turned his head and greeted them with a cheerful smile.

"Ah, perfect timing. I just got the fire going."

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes falling on Morgan slumped over Klaus’s shoulder. He asked:

"What happened to her?"

Klaus replied calmly:

"She entered her Soul Stream a few minutes ago. I don’t think she’ll be out for long."

The blonde Strider looked between Klaus and Morgan, clearly deep in thought. For a moment, Klaus found himself caught by his turquoise eyes before quickly pulling himself back to reality.

Thankfully, Adrian spoke before the silence could stretch on.

"I see. That won’t be a problem as long as she doesn’t stay unconscious for too long."

With that, he finally turned his attention to Seraphim and his eyes widened in surprise.

"You finally got yourself an armor-type Nightmare?"

Seraphim gave a small nod.

"Yes. I received it after I defeated the beast commander."

She fell quiet, her gaze meeting Adrian’s smile. He asked,

"So... how does it compare to your old gear?"

A wide smile slowly spread across her face. Beaming with a touch of embarrassment, she replied:

"Much better."

Klaus glanced at Seraphim, a little puzzled.

It was the first time he had seen her smile. She usually carried herself like a cold, silent princess. If someone had told him that the pale girl could smile like that, he probably wouldn’t have believed them.

But here she was smiling. Just like any normal girl.

Then, his expression darkened.

’I wonder what really happened back then.’

Specifically, what had occurred the day the Luminous Clan was wiped out. Even if curiosity tugged at him, it wasn’t something he could just ask. Unless she chose to speak of it herself, he wouldn’t bring up that tragedy.

Besides, he didn’t want to spoil the current atmosphere.

Noticing Seraphim settle beside the fire, Klaus dropped Morgan in a comfortable position beside him and settled down as well.

A few minutes later, the monster meat was cooked, and Adrian handed out everyone’s portion. Morgan was still unconscious, so her share was set aside.

Klaus leaned back against a pile of stones, eating slowly, his gaze drifting toward the sky.

As always, it was grey and unfriendly.

If there were stars in this world — which Klaus highly doubted, given the lack of a sun — he might have spent his time counting them, tracing imaginary constellations just to pass the time.

With three of them now equipped in proper gear, they were starting to resemble an actual Awakened cohort. A real team. Well, if the disguised, unconscious succubus currently sleeping like a log had some armor too, they’d probably pass the visual test with flying colors.

Lithe and composed, Seraphim looked like a seasoned dark knight sworn to a forsaken fate. Adrian, clad in his Shadow Shroud, gave off the aura of a veteran spearman — confident, sharp, and slightly too cheerful. Morgan resembled... well, a sleeping beauty. Or maybe a cursed princess. Ugh. No — definitely not a princess. That word didn’t suit her at all.

And then there was him.

Klaus took a pause. Wait... what was he, really?

A scavenger? A support role? The awkward extra in the background of a dramatic fantasy painting?

He wasn’t a knight like Seraphim, nor did he have Adrian’s easy confidence or Morgan’s eerie mystique. He didn’t have a role that felt cleanly defined or clear title to put beside his name.

Just... Klaus.

That was it.

A guy with sharp eyes, a sharper tongue, and a brain that never quite shut up.

That single sentence summed up the entirety of the existence known as Nikolaos. Perhaps, in the end, that was the true meaning behind his Soul Name — Broken Fate.

A treacherous wanderer without a fate of his own.

He grimaced.

’Let’s think about something else.

Ah, I know... constellations! Those are always interesting... or at least they used to be.’

He glanced up again, only to be greeted by the same dull, lifeless sky.

’Though it’s a bit too bright for that. And besides, nothing in this world even remotely resembles a star.’

The thought soured on his tongue before it could even bloom.

Speaking of constellations, Klaus had once memorized over forty of them.

Back in the Living World, when the sky still made sense and stars actually existed, he used to lie on rooftops and stare up for hours. He remembered how the cold tiles pressed into his back, the distant hum of civilization surrounding him while he traced out Orion, Cassiopeia, and all the others with his fingers like some ancient cartographer of the night. There was something oddly comforting about it. It was predictable, anchored and the stars never changed. Even when everything else fell apart, the constellations remained where they were, shining quietly, utterly indifferent to the chaos below.

Which was, the reason, the sky of this world was lifeless, grey and utterly uninteresting in comparison. There was no sun, moon or stars. It was just an endless ceiling of nothing.

It almost felt like the world had forgotten how to dream.

He chewed slowly, eyes still fixed above and muttered to no one in particular.

"Did you know that the word ’constellation’ comes from the Latin constellatio? It means ’a gathering of stars.’ Romantic, right? A gathering. Like stars were people, meeting up to catch up on old stories and ancient light."

He paused, then let out a quiet chuckle.

"Sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. But sometimes I think about that. Like maybe, if stars were still around here, each one would have a story. Maybe some of them would argue about whose myth was better. ’I was a hunter!’ one would say. ’I was a queen cursed to sit backwards on her throne!’ another would scoff."

He picked a bit of charred meat from between his teeth and kept going, not even checking if anyone was listening.

"And I used to think: if I ever became a constellation, what kind would I be? Definitely not one of the noble ones. Not a hero, a king or anything of the sorts. I would probably be some forgotten cluster with no name, tucked away near the edge of the limitless sky, only visible in some obscure season, and only to people who really knew where to look. The kind of star people point at and go, ’Wait, that’s part of a constellation?’ and then immediately forget it existed."

There was another pause. A gust of cold wind brushed past him. He silently shifted his weight and added quietly:

"Still, I guess I liked the idea. That you could leave something behind up there. Even if it was just a flicker of light no one noticed anymore. Something permanent in a world full of rot and change. Stars didn’t die the way people did. They faded, sure, but slowly. Elegantly. They went out with style!"

He sighed, almost wistfully.

"But I guess here, you don’t get that. Here, there are no stars, sun and even the moon is absent! Just endless grey, like someone smeared ash across the heavens and called it a day. Lazy bastard. If the mysterious fellow was a painter, I would say he doesn’t have any taste at all. If you wanted to create such a dull image, why don’t you paint everything black instead?!"

He scoffed to himself before shaking his head.

"At least black has a sense of finality to it. Sometimes mystery, but grey is indecision. It’s the color of ’I gave up halfway but still wanted to look profound.’"

Klaus took another bite of meat, chewing absentmindedly.

"You know, back in the Living World, we used to romanticize the apocalypse. Always talked about how beautiful the end of the world would be. Crimson skies, burning cities, maybe some poetic music in the background. Even the nightmares were supposed to be dramatic. Perhaps biblical, tragic, grand. But definitely not this... this is just bland nothingness."

His eyes drifted to the side, scanning the motionless horizon.

"I mean, look at it. There’s nothing out there. Not even a silhouette. It’s just... flat. The kind of view that makes you question if you’re even real. Like maybe the world stops rendering five miles away."

He blinked once. Twice.

Then continued, because his mouth was moving faster than his thoughts.

"Maybe that’s what this place really is... a forgotten draft. A discarded realm the gods started designing and then lost interest in. Left it lying around like an old sketchbook they meant to come back to. But didn’t."

He sniffed the air and grimaced slightly.

"And don’t even get me started on the monsters. They have little to no elegance or mythic beauty. Just teeth, limbs and eyes where there shouldn’t be eyes. Aesthetic disasters, that’s what I will call those sons of a gun. At least imaginary dragons would have some kind of flair and class, am I right?"

He leaned back a little more, letting his head rest against the stone. His voice dropped to a more thoughtful murmur.

"But maybe I’m just bitter. Maybe I miss beauty more than I thought. Maybe stars were never that special... maybe they just felt that way because we knew they were light from a distant past. Echoes of something long gone. Something that died... but kept glowing anyway."

A silence followed.

Klaus exhaled and closed his eyes briefly.

"I guess I wouldn’t mind being one of those. One of those lights. Not as hero or legend, of course. Just something that kept glowing a little while longer than expected. Even if nobody noticed."

The fire crackled softly beside him. Adrian shifted but said nothing. Seraphim didn’t look up. And Morgan remained still, lost somewhere within her Soul Stream.

It didn’t matter if they heard. Klaus hadn’t said it for them anyway.

He just needed to let it out before the silence swallowed him whole.