This notebook, though, was different. No glowing sigils, no crystalline. Just simple, unadorned leather, worn at the edges. Handwritten. That alone made it an anomaly in a place where everything screamed Read me.
He cracked it open, and a wave of familiarity crashed over him, sharp and cold, like a gust of wind through a forgotten door. His breath caught in his throat.
"…By the damned gods…"
His voice was a whisper, barely audible in the dim, cavernous chamber, but his pulse had already spiked, hammering in his ears.
The pages were filled with Demonese.
Perfect, flowing strokes. Elegant, controlled, yet unmistakably personal. This wasn't the rigid script of a scholar's textbook or the cold precision of an academic's notes. These words had life, as if the writer had poured their soul into each curve and flourish, each letter a testament to something deeply felt. The ink seemed to shimmer faintly, not with magic, but with intent.
Belial blinked, his heart thudding beneath his ribs. Demonese wasn't a language just anyone could wield. It was the second hardest language to learn...behind The Longyu language. Even among demons, only a few mastered it. For a human or even a noble to write it so fluently? Unheard of. Yet here it was, page after page, a logbook penned by someone called the "lonely prince."
He chuckled under his breath, thumbing through the delicate pages, careful not to smudge the ink. "A journal, of all things," he murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief and amusement. "In Demonese. Who does that?"
In the game—the strange, vivid world he'd once played, now bleeding into reality—this notebook had been a key item. He remembered it clearly. He'd traded it for a regalia, one of those rare artifacts left behind by fallen gods, imbued with power that could reshape fates. In the game, acquiring even one regalia was a feat that took months of grinding, cunning, and luck. But if this world was real, if this wasn't some fever dream or delusion, then the implications were staggering.
A lot of gods had fallen.
Which meant a lot of regalia were out there, scattered across the realms, waiting to be claimed.
"Whether I'm worthy of one is… questionable," he muttered, a half-grin tugging at his lips, though a thread of dread coiled in his gut. Regalia weren't just powerful—they were dangerous. They demanded sacrifice, loyalty, or something far worse. And yet, the thought of them, of their potential, sent a thrill through him.
He shook his head, forcing his focus back to the notebook. The words pulled him in again, their elegance almost hypnotic. He flipped through the pages, each one a window into the mind of this mysterious prince. Then, with a careless flick of his wrist, he reached the back of the book—and froze.
The notebook was thicker than it should have been. Far thicker. The pages seemed to multiply as he turned them, unfolding like an endless scroll, defying the physical limits of the leather cover. He frowned, running his fingers along the spine. No enchantments, no runes. Just… more pages than should be possible.
He stopped at the first entry, titled simply: Day One.
The words were unassuming, but they carried weight, as if the writer had hesitated before committing them to paper.
Uh… how do I start...My name is Yun-Seo Wol.
Yunso? What a strange name...maybe its the translation issue
Belial smiled despite himself, a flicker of warmth breaking through his usual cynicism. The voice in those words felt alive, 'human', even if the writer wasn't.
I've been studying Demonese for some time now. I hope this is readable.
Got this book from a sketchy demon working on some kind of new tech. He was able to imbue a talent into an object! Said it was something called "Resonant Engraving." Basically, if I write using this pen, the words become engraved over time. Permanent, and still personal.
Turns out he's not sketchy at all. Kindest guy I've met in a while. Honest, too—which is rare in the Empire. Refreshing, actually.
The demon realm… wow.
It's beautiful. Still in its industrial age, far behind the Han Empire by Multiple centuries, maybe centuries, but there's something peaceful here. Nature untouched. Valleys of blue fireflies. Mountains that peace at night. People that smile without reason.
Though there was something quite scary though...There was a solitary giant red moon
Belial's fingers slowed, lingering over the page. The words painted a picture so vivid he could almost see it—the glowing valleys, the soft hum of mountains under a starlit sky. But more than that, they carried a quiet longing, a sense of wonder that felt… vulnerable. This wasn't just a log. It was a heart laid bare, captured in ink.
I can't see the way most people do. Crystalline condition. My eyes refract more than reflect. Everything is shapes and light echoes—but this notebook? No runes, no enchantments to guide me. Yet… I can read it. Feel it.
I guess that's why the counselor said I should write in it. Said it'd help me process things. "Keep one thing for yourself," she said.
Belial's chest tightened. He didn't know why, but those words hit him harder than he expected. The idea of someone, anyone, carving out a private space in a world that demanded everything—it resonated. He flipped to the next page, the tone shifting slightly. The writer's hand seemed steadier, more confident.
I went back to the Empire today.
It felt different, returning. Not just because of what I'd seen, but because I had this—this little piece of something untouched. Something I didn't have to share.
Maybe I'll keep this going.
Even if no one ever reads it.
Even if it's just for me.
Belial exhaled slowly, leaning back in the creaking wooden chair. For a moment, he felt like he'd slipped into someone else's skin, felt the weight of their solitude, their quiet defiance. This prince, whoever he was, wasn't just a name on a character roster or a forgotten NPC in the game's sprawling lore. He was real. Flawed, introspective, and… good.
"Damn good," Belial whispered, glancing around the chamber as if expecting to see the prince standing in the shadows. The air was still, the only sound the faint drip of water somewhere deep in the chamber's walls.
He turned back to the notebook, his curiosity burning brighter now.
That thought lingered, heavy and unshakable.
Maybe they weren't so different.
He flipped to the next page—and stopped dead.
The ink was still wet.
His breath hitched, and he leaned closer, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the page. The words were fresh, the edges of the letters gleaming faintly, as if they'd been written moments ago.
Today something strange happened.
I met a man. He had a voice like silver bells in the night sky, but his eyes… they were like a shooting star in the void. Not in a sad way. In a way that said he'd seen too many truths. I think he knew I wasn't from around here, but he didn't press. Just gave me this shard. Said it would show me what I needed to see when the time was right.
I don't even know his name.
Belial's eyes narrowed, a chill creeping down his spine. That description… it felt too familiar. A voice like silver bells. Eyes like a shooting star. And a shard.
His thoughts raced to the shard he'd left behind in his room, tucked away in a velvet-lined box. It was small, no larger than a coin, but it pulsed with a faint, otherworldly light. He'd found it—or rather, it had found him—after a strange encounter with a cloaked figure in the demon realm's market. The man had said little, only that the shard would "guide him when the time came." Belial hadn't thought much of it then, assuming it was just another cryptic piece of the game's lore playing out in this new, vivid reality.
But now…
He stared at the notebook, his pulse quickening. This wasn't just a log. It was a trail, a series of breadcrumbs left by someone who knew more than they let on. The lonely prince hadn't written just to remember. He'd written to be found.
And Belial had just picked up the thread.
His thumb slid to the corner of the next page, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and unease. A greedy grin spread across his face, sharp and reckless.
"…Guess we'll see where this rabbit hole leads."