Chapter 1: Foreword

My name is Martin Heisenberg. 25 years old. People used to call me a prodigy guardian, but I couldn't care less what people think. If you've found this diary, I'm already dead. I'm recording this through vocal magic, a magic I invented. The details of the formula is at the back of this book.

If by some chance I don't stupidly leave this book somewhere, then you've probably found this inside an unnecessarily large bag. Take the bag and go. If I died, then whatever killed me should probably be close, and whatever it is should be stronger than your usual anomaly. Get yourself to safety first.

After that, open that bag and you'll see that there are other books I've written other than this one. Did you seriously think I can fit all of my discoveries in one book? Of course not. Not that it matters. The thing is, there are books inside that I did not write. They were possessions of the companions I met along the way and joined me in my journey, or victims whose memories I was able to recover using a magic I invented. This book is the last book I recorded through vocal magic. The order of the books will get confusing, so I made a list behind this piece of paper which states what order you should read all of these. Also...

God... it's so... cold out here.

Can I make a request? Just one, if it isn't much trouble.

Take this to the kingdom of Weiss. Tell them that it's the work of Martin Heisenberg. Tell them to properly compensate my wife and kids, to give them noble titles. Please.

Please tell them I'm sorry I didn't return sooner.

Thank you, stranger. May Gawain bless you longevity.

Shit... Shit. SHIT.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

Shit... Shit... Shhh.

I... I don't wanna die...

I... not... die...

Please...

Sophia... Forget... Me... Not...

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