(Yeah, I swear I'll come back to the prologue later. Also, if you own the novel and want to help out, go ahead!)

Emilio Katret. Leon Magnus.

And, probably the last one, Judas. Thus has been called my Master, bocchan.

It is not like I have gotten into the mood for starting this tale because I am now about to face my death, but I have a feeling... that bocchan's life likely will not be that long either.

In the short time until the end comes, my sole hesitation... is about whether a person will finally come around who comprehends bocchan from the bottom of their heart. Although bocchan, for one, probably has no such thoughts like wanting to be understood by someone.

Emilio, Leon, Judas.

Myself aside, there should be no one in this world who knows all of those three.

What bocchan felt, in what manner he hurt, who he loved. What it was that he truly sought, deep within those cold eyes.

Bocchan is terribly quiety, and when he occasionally opens his mouth it is nothing but bitter sarcasm.

He has more than enough qualification as a Swordian Master, but one cannot say that he is blessed in the slightest with the gift of spontaneous disclosure.

Thus, I think I will tell everything I have learned instead.

The truth about bocchan, toyed with by fate, who would not spare himself even tarnishing his name for the sake of the person he loved enough to make his heart bleed...