169-Gentle god

Do you know him?

 Misha asked that while staring at the words engraved on the wall.

''........Hmm. I suppose I do know him. But I can't tell who it is from this alone.''

 Then Misha stares into my eyes.
 I wonder if she's trying to gauge my heart, but it's a vaguely accusatory look.

''I'm falling in love........''

"That's what it says.


 Misha said matter-of-factly.
 'Indeed, it says, I'm in love again,' he said.

'I fell in love two thousand years ago, too.

It's a rare thing in a mythical age.

 Misha nodded her head.

'Didn't anyone else like Anos?'

Well, I have no idea. There was no room for it in these days, you know. It's an honour to be in love with me, but perhaps I couldn't bring myself to say it.

Because he's a tyrannical demon king?

 I nod.

I nod. "There was no peace. I can't even speak my own thoughts. I've been secretly writing down my inner thoughts here.

 He loosely approached the wall and gently touched the letters.
 It was uncomfortable.

'What's wrong?'

It's enchanted.

 You must be a very good magician to keep them from realizing it at a glance.
 I use my magic eye and look into the abyss hidden in the letters.

"Hmm. I see. I guess we'll have to wait until nightfall for this.

Should we go for the Cutthroat King first?

Hey, it's not long before nightfall. We'll rest for a while.

 I sat down in that spot against the wall.
 Misha came next to me and sat down a bit.

'Where are Shin and Reno?'

'As usual, Singh looks like he's being pushed around. But Reno looks like he's struggling too. How fitting, isn't it?

 From the view I shared with Ray and Sasha and the others, I watch the exchange between Singh and Reno in Ahartheln, and I laugh, clearing my throat.

'....Can Shin get some love?

If the man truly wanted to, it would be possible.

 With a snap, Misha blinks her eyes.

''His root is the magic sword.''

 Misha muttered nonchalantly.

'Are you still okay with that?'

Did you ever think that you couldn't love someone just because they had a magic sword?

 Misha rolls her eyes as if to show her surprise at my words.

'If you can't get what you truly and sincerely wish for, then let such a world perish.

 I went on to say to Misha, who looked uneasy.

'That's what Militia, the creator god, uttered.

Have you created a better world?

'Yes. This world she created is warm and full of love and hope. It was inherently very gentle.

What made you change?

"There are many gods in the world, not just Militia, such as Noosgaria. Even if the king of the demon race creates a country, that country will not do as the king alone wishes. The world also revolves by the will of many gods.

 Nodding curtly, Misha listens intently to me.

But the foundation, the foundation of this world is Militia's compassionate order. If you wish from the bottom of your heart, this world she has created will surely respond to you. No matter how desolate it may be, no matter how widespread the conflict.

 Misha's gentle gaze caresses my face.

'Do you believe me?'

Militia was mourning.

 Misha nodded her head in wonder as she said this.

'That this world has been brought to irrationality by the gods and that tragedy is rampant,' she said. She once bowed to me and said she was sorry for creating a sad world.

 Just slightly, Misha smiles.

'There are many gods,'

'That's right. Until I met Militia, I thought the gods didn't care about demons, humans and spirits. No matter how much they prayed, they could not perform miracles. They only bring good miracles to the world, and they only protect the good order. They don't care about the condition of the people who live in this world.

 Once, to me, all gods were unreasonable themselves.
 But some of them are not.

'Did Militia perform miracles for the demon race?

Her power is the creation of the world. There is only so much you can do with this world that has already been created. Creating the world anew is synonymous with destroying what's here.

 It is not possible to create something new without limit.
 If we observe order and reason, for this world to be this world, we need to lose something in order to gain something.

By creating a great miracle, another great miracle is lost. "By creating something, you destroy something. For the most part, all Militia could do was watch over the world and hope for it. "May this world already created be turned to a kinder path.

 Misha thought and then said.

'Was doing nothing the best thing for you?

'It will be. The power of God is the very order of this world, the very rules of the world. Therefore, if you use a miracle, the order you hold will be distorted. It will fall on the people living in this land in the form of unreasonableness. Still, many other gods used their power without regard, but Militia did not.

 The Creator God feared that by exercising miracles, his order would be distorted.
 If the order of creation was disrupted, the impact on the world would be profound.

 Militia could do nothing.
 Doing nothing was the best she could do.

"I made a promise to her,

What kind of appointment?

'If other gods bring insurmountable tragedy and unreasonableness to our lives, I'll destroy it,'

 Hmmm, Misha laughed.


'It's a big deal, though. It's not just a matter of time before you get to the bottom of it. This world she created, this world from which I was born, will not be defeated by unreasonableness.

 I wanted to prove to her that the world she created was kind.
 It's only because it's my body, not God, that I can do that.

'So you built a wall?'

That's one of the reasons. I wanted peace.

 Misha quietly tilts her head and rests her head on my shoulder.



Is the world at peace?

More so than in the past. But I suppose it's not enough.

 Leaning her weight on me, vaguely Misha glanced at the window.
 The light of the setting sun illuminated the interior of the tower.

 Gazing at the sunset, we rested for a while and waited for the time to pass.
 Soon the sun had set completely and the moon was shining on the ground.

 A vague, cold light poured down into the tower.

'It's about time,'

 Me and Misha sat up and stared at the wall.
 Through the magical window, the reflected moonlight fell on the letters on the wall.

 Then the words on the wall changed.

 To Demon King Anos.

 The Cutthroat King Erdmaed.
 We are in a cemetery hall dedicated to the war dead.

 With the magic of decay and death, the door is opened.


 He fought and fought until they called him a tyrant.
 To the future of the gentle demon king.
 Please be at peace.

 I will always be there.
 I'm watching over you.

 Until the end.
 All the time.


 Misha uttered that while staring dumbly at the writing on the wall.

''I can't write these letters unless I know that Anos uses