Chapter 47: They Devoted Themselves to the Night, Yet Shone Like the Stars
The forest with its sun-blocking canopy had been left far behind, where the treetops shielded the sky and light could not reach.
Amid the thunderous roar, the Silver Gear raced along the tracks through the boundless wilderness, with only the azure dome of the heavens above.
Rast recalled the promise he had made in Canaan—
Back then, he had promised Emis to one day see the vast plains where the wind bowed the grass, revealing herds of cattle and sheep.
And now, Rast had seen with his own eyes that golden field.
The high-speed train sped forward, the rushing wind pressing down the grasslands flanking the tracks…
There really were cattle and sheep grazing leisurely, their figures flickering between the wind-bent blades of grass.
If Rast had not crossed into an entirely new world, but was merely exploring a fantasy game called Snow Moon Emblem,
Then this moment would likely be when the game’s main theme played melodiously, and the opening animation began.
The carriage fell into brief silence.
Neither man nor beast spoke, simply gazing in silence at the golden plains outside the window.
“What a beautiful sight, isn’t it?”
“This is the reason Shiltina, and countless Night Travelers from Starfall University, were willing to pay any price—even their lives—to destroy the ancient calamities hidden within the Nightworld.”
At some point, the Dean Silver had climbed onto Rast’s shoulder, his ruby-like eyes gazing at the distant landscape.
“So please, don’t hold a grudge over the academy’s near-harsh scrutiny and tests.”
“These procedures are indeed a bit tedious, even inhuman, but in the end, it’s because we can’t afford to gamble… and we cannot afford to lose.”
“Between the Nightworld and the present world, between the twillight calamity that once destroyed civilizations and this beautiful land before us—there lies only a single passage…”
“Even the slightest mistake could result in consequences we simply cannot bear.”
“I don’t know where exactly you come from.”
“But this landscape you’re witnessing—this is our entire world…”
The ferret Dean’s voice dissipated into the wilderness with the rushing wind.
…
An hour later, the Silver Gear came to a halt at the end of the track.
Rast stepped out of the carriage.
And Ishta, having served two full hours of confinement, was finally released from the so-called “exile-dimensional space” inside the Dean’s mouth.
Now, she was glaring at her with a face full of grievance.
The Dean Silver, however, remained utterly composed, paying no mind to Ishta’s wounded gaze.
She still held her usual lazy and elegant posture, nibbling occasionally on a small dried fish.
Beyond the platform stretched a long staircase paved with red cobblestones, leading straight to the mountaintop’s architectural complex.
Clack—
Clack—
Two people and one beast stepped on fallen maple leaves as they climbed the stairs.
At the top step, the view suddenly opened wide.
It was a vast plaza, and behind it stood academy buildings resembling a castle.
On the chapel’s steeple, white doves fluttered up and down.
In the center of the plaza stood a towering, pitch-black obelisk—majestic and soaring straight into the heavens.
Upon the obelisk was inscribed a line of ancient script, penned in pale gold ink—
【Though the stars shift, wisdom remains eternal】
Rast walked beside the obelisk, gazing up at its grandeur.
Although he couldn’t recognize the language engraved on the stone, somehow, as he stared at the pale gold characters, their meaning became clear to him.
“This is written in Aran language. Though the Nightworld provides basic language support in its historical remnants to ensure communication isn’t hindered by linguistic barriers,”
“Within those remnants, ancient texts and documents from that era still remain. These are extremely valuable secrets to us, important for researching the lost history before the ‘Pale Interregnum.’”
“Therefore, Aran, Ancient Elvish, Ancient Giant… all the old languages used throughout the Nightworld Remnant are mandatory courses after enrollment.”
At some point, the Dean Silver had leapt onto Ishta’s head, looking at Rast who was gazing at the obelisk.
“However, there’s no need to bother with the school motto carved on the obelisk.”
“That was just some decoration Principal Olden put up to impress outsiders and the curious onlookers.”
“Because of the Nightworld’s secrecy clauses, most outsiders believe Starfall University to be an ancient and prestigious institution known for its scholarly atmosphere.”
“In such a reputable academy, one would naturally expect to find elegant scholars in pursuit of knowledge and truth, just like that motto: ‘Though the stars shift, wisdom remains eternal’…”
“They’d never imagine that this place is actually filled with unstable maniacs and violent lunatics hanging on by a thread.”
A hint of mockery flashed in the Dean’s eyes.
She tapped Ishta on the head with her fluffy tail.
“Ishta, let our new student witness the true meaning behind this obelisk.”
“Yes.”
Ishta’s previously playful, resentful look vanished, replaced by seriousness.
A delicate emblem floated in her palm.
Then, she grasped the emblem and placed her hand against the grand obelisk.
In the next instant—
Sparkling starlight flickered simultaneously on the emblem and the dark stone obelisk.
Though it was midday, a phantom firmament manifested from the obelisk’s peak, veiling the clear blue sky.
One by one, stars emerged from within the obelisk, projecting onto the black dome overhead.
Sky, earth, mountains, and plains—all were illuminated by the pure, dreamlike starlight, as if a true night sky had descended and formed a sea of stars.
Rast’s gaze swept across the stars beside him, pausing briefly on one.
【Ingrid】
【Academy Codename: “Darksteel”】
【Sequence Rank: Justice】
【873rd Round Table, Second Seat, graduated from Starfall University’s Lionheart Institute six years ago】
【Now serving as Director of the Supervision Bureau under Granville’s Department of National Order】
…
Each time Rast’s gaze passed over a star, a complex stream of information washed into his mind, accompanied by gentle starlight.
“Do you see it?”
The Dean’s voice echoed in his ear.
“Each star carved onto the obelisk bears the name of a Night Traveler.”
“The name of a Night Traveler…”
Rast pondered, “Since this Senior Ingrid was the second seat of the 873rd Round Table six years ago, where are the other eleven of that cohort?”
He scanned the surrounding stars, searching both the prior and next graduating classes, but only found six stars with matching detailed information.
It fell short by five of the twelve seats he had previously heard about from Ishta.
“Because they are no longer alive.”
The Dean’s voice had lost its usual laziness.
“Three died before graduation, two after.”
“Most of them vanished into the Nightworld, never to return… and one died during a secret riot orchestrated by an underground organization in the real world.”
“Their places are there.”
The Dean pointed with his tail above the obelisk’s black sky dome.
That sky dome marked the boundary.
Below it, the stars drifted in the air like fantastical meteors—blazing and brilliant, radiantly vibrant.
Above it, the stars deep in the sea of constellations appeared faint and unreachable, drifting slowly with the night sky like true celestial bodies.
“Each star among that vast sea is a tombstone for the dead.”
“Each traveler who perished in the remnants of the past became a guardian of this land from the far heavens—light and flame, their names lost to time.”
“They devoted themselves to the night, yet shone like the stars.”
“This is—”
“The origin of ‘Starfall’.”