Clear morning sunlight streamed through the gaps between the stone pillars of the Ancient Labyrinth, like golden hands pointing toward the towering ancient tower above the sea of reeds and blood.
On the tower's top floor, not far from the enormous bronze bell, a man in a black robe sat cross-legged.
With a pinch and a flick of his fingers, a delicate quill and a thick, leather-bound ancient book appeared in his hands.
The man in black turned the pale yellow pages, unhurriedly flipping to the latest one. Beneath the previous entry, he began a new paragraph and put pen to paper.
"February 23, 2001. I can hardly believe I've been writing this book for more than three hundred years. I think it'll soon be coming to an end."
"I've always kept to the calendar of the Six Continents. Whenever explorers from the Six Continents happen to come by, I go and check in with them."
"The reason, of course, is to remind myself not to forget my 'roots,' not to forget that I'm human."
"If I didn't remind myself, I'm afraid I'd lose myself and my way one day... But perhaps I can't keep this up much longer."
"Last night passed without incident, but I've noticed that the periods when I'm tormented by the curse are growing longer."
"From one-third of the day before, to nearly half of it now, I spend my time in pain and hallucinations. This is very abnormal, though things were already abnormal before."
"I have no choice but to lock myself away in the tower, avoid contact with outsiders, and keep them from coming to see me."
"If I weren't worried about the siege here, I should have left long ago."
"Now, I'm waiting for a man. Once I've waited for him, my mission