Bernard Fokke’s Journal

Start of Volume 9

As the trio carefully read through, past scenes of tragic events were gradually reconstructed.

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「 Summer, 1624. Fourteen months without a drop of rain, the drinking habits of that damned old head is becoming worst. Last month, he delivered my Momore to the Abattoir, it was I who reared him all these years! I can still remember the welling tears in his eyes when my pitiful old mate departed. If only I was in charge. I would surely allow Momore, my frail old horse, to accompany me for eternity. 」

「 He’s walking up the stairs, he actually dares to go up!!! 」

「 That drunkard seems to have designs on Susan. The gaze he observed Susan with is the exact same as the one he observed Momore with for one whole month! 」