After suppressing the restless thoughts that stirred his heart—thoughts that would only lead to a meaningless death—Fullen flipped to the final pages of the diary.
Even a child who knew nothing could easily understand the dates of the Full Moons and Blood Moons in the coming years from Martin's carefully arranged charts. Perhaps it was this calendar—condensed with a father's love—that had allowed Fullen, who had teetered on the edge of losing control during those years, to survive the ever-present dangers.
As expected.
After confirming the date, Fullen slowly closed his eyes.
July 6, 1183.It was the Full Moon.
On that night, Bethel's voice would pierce through space, forcing every descendant of the Abraham Family to endure unspeakable torment.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Fullen returned to his senses.
Although he felt pain for both himself and Martin, the current Fullen had no ability to seek vengeance. Forget planning—he didn't even dare allow such thoughts to form.
Regaining his composure, Fullen carried the notebook back to his bedroom. Following the diary's records, he took out the calendars for 1184 and 1185 from his desk and storage. One by one, he carefully marked every Full Moon and Blood Moon for the next three years.
Though he badly wanted to study the astrological knowledge recorded in the diary, learning was no longer his priority.
After Elder Crow's warning, his previously unhurried plans for advancement were shattered. From now on, Fullen had to prepare for the worst—advancing even if he lost all assistance from the Abraham Family.
As for how to enter the wild Beyonder world…
Fullen didn't know.
But his father had.
Martin had recorded everything his own father taught him in another diary.
Fullen still remembered it clearly.
The notebook lay in the bottom-right corner of the secret chamber, its title etched deeply into his memory:
"The Rise of a Genius — Martin of the Abraham Family's Path to Godhood."
Perhaps it was an unfulfilled wish shared by all Abrahams.
When Martin was young, he too had been influenced by his father, dreaming of leading the family out of decline. And now, Fullen picked up that abandoned dream from the yellowed pages, worn thin by time.
In short, Martin entered the mysterious world after fully digesting the Apprentice potion.
He had been only fifteen years old.
At that age—curious, reckless, and full of longing—Martin had been led by his father into the Flame Axe Tavern, located in Winston District.
That unassuming tavern became Martin's gateway to the mysterious world—and remained so for the rest of his life.
The Flame Axe Tavern hosted a small Beyonder gathering organized by a mysterious group.
No one knew who truly founded the organization, but Martin was certain of one thing:its founder was not someone to provoke lightly.
This gathering was merely a branch of a larger Beyonder network.Entry into the Flame Axe gathering relied on recommendations from the tavern owner.And anyone wishing to join the larger gathering had to pass through this organization.
Thus, over the past decade, it spread rapidly through word of mouth among Beyonders in Trier.
Though considered a "small" gathering, the items traded there were anything but insignificant.Sequence 6 main materials occasionally appeared.Once, even auxiliary materials for Sequence 5 were exchanged.
Martin never worried about being deceived.
Each gathering was overseen by a "Notary."
There were three such gatherings under this organization in Trier—and every single one was hosted by a Notary.
Though the Notaries wore iron masks, many believed there was more than one. Some attendees had participated in two gatherings at the same time, clearly encountering different hosts.
At least two Notaries existed.
And a Notary was a Sequence 6 of the Sun Pathway.
That such individuals operated outside the Eternal Blazing Sun Church spoke volumes about the organization's strength.
With his father's guidance, Martin gained immensely from this gathering.
Not only did his Sequence advance smoothly, but he survived multiple crises with minimal danger.Here, danger and opportunity walked hand in hand.
From then on, Martin regarded the Flame Axe Tavern as his true entrance into the mysterious world.
Even now, more than a decade later, Fullen could still feel the joy Martin had experienced then—etched between the lines of the diary.
Besides this gathering, Martin also recorded other methods of entering the Beyonder world. Though less effective, they were still documented in detail.
In this world, those most likely to touch the mysterious were always minor nobles and wealthy merchants.
Great nobles had no need.Those below the merchant class had no chance.
Within minor noble and merchant circles, becoming acquainted with three or four like-minded individuals often allowed one to tentatively express interest in the mysterious world. By asking enough people and trying enough approaches, a path would eventually open.
Martin had joined several such gatherings.
Though none compared to the Flame Axe Tavern, exposure to multiple Pathways was never wasted effort.
There was also another path—becoming a mercenary and searching for introductions in taverns within commoner or slum districts.
But that path was exhausting, time-consuming, and unreliable.An introducer seeking fresh blood was never easy to find.Many searched their entire lives without success.
After finishing this diary—one he knew he would never forget—Fullen made his decision.
He would go to the Flame Axe Tavern.
Though Beyonder gatherings were usually held at night, it was better to express intent beforehand than to arrive ignorant and unprepared.
After checking himself repeatedly and recalling what he needed to bring, Fullen left his house.
As he stood on the wide street, he glanced back at the mailbox.
After retrieving the key he should have used yesterday, Fullen opened it once more.
To his surprise, another letter lay inside.
A white envelope.A blue wax seal.
Written around the seal was the sender's name:
Kvedo Haimer.
Fullen was taken aback.
He had only reunited with Kvedo yesterday, yet today a letter had already arrived. Such enthusiasm was rare, and Fullen found himself reassessing his impression of this new friend.
The ringing of carriage bells interrupted his thoughts.
He didn't open the letter immediately.
After a brief pause, Fullen slipped the envelope into his coat pocket and waved toward the approaching carriage.
Once it stopped, he stated his destination.
As the carriage carried him away—his thoughts filled with speculation about the letter's contents—it gradually disappeared down Koson Street.