190-Prologue-Month of Creation-

 The age of myths--

 Snowflakes fluttered down to the ground in the distance.

 Reflecting the warm light pouring down, beautifully glittering.

 No, not exactly, slightly different.
 The snowflakes were in the form of an altered light.

 In addition to the normal moon, there was another one floating in the night sky, the Artillert Noah.
 The full moon, shining silvery white, lit up the ground and made snowflakes fall.

 The snowflakes, which resembled flowers, born from the moonlight, were called snowflakes.

 <Under the light of the Moon of Creation, all life has its source, the magical power.
 The birthplace was the primordial source of all things, the root of life.

 It was a battlefield where many lives were lost.

 In the silvery moonlight, the wasteland and corpses, from the broken trees to the withered plants and flowers, froze as if time had stopped and then disappeared.

 When the old perishes, a new one is born.
 As it is said, the night of a thousand perditions will come, and the moon will shine in the sky, and the miracle of new birth will take place.

 With Artillert Noah, the lost life circulated and order was maintained in this world.

 Amidst the silvery snow, moon, and flowers, the corpses piled up, and the land was filled with death, as if time had stopped, there was one thing that moved.

 A man stood there.

 Standing in the place where the overwhelming destruction that amounted to overrunning had taken place, dressed in the garb of a black king, he was the infamous Demon King of Tyranny, Anos Voldigord.

 He slowly stepped out and stared at the heavens with his demon eyes tinted with annihilation purple.
 Then, the black darkness creates a scaffold like a single board in its place. Another board of darkness appears on top of it, and another board appears on top of it.

 The darkness gradually made a staircase, which led to the Artillertonoa, which shines in the night sky.

 The demon king climbed up the long staircase of darkness that hung in the night sky.
 <The is far away, and even though the mountains on earth are smaller than pebbles, the end is still not in sight.

 How long has it been, how long has it been?
 It seemed like seven days had passed, but it was still night.

 <As long as the Moon of Creation shines in the sky, the morning will never come.

 Seven days have already passed, but the silvery white moon is still far away.
 If the Demon King continues to ascend, the snow, moon and flowers will pour down on the dark staircase he created.

 The snowflakes, which are the incarnation of that moonlight, shone dazzlingly, and then, about ten steps up, there was the figure of a girl with silver hair.

 Her hair stretched long to the ankles of her feet, her eyes held a silver gleam in them, and her body was clad in a pure white ceremonial outfit.

'Go home,'

 One word, the girl said.

'I refuse.'

 Saying that, the Demon King began to climb the stairs again.
 However, no matter how far he went, the distance between him and the girl did not decrease at all.

''What is your purpose?''

We're going to let the moon fall.

 An emotionless, inorganic stare pierced the Demon King.

''I can't do that.''

I don't know anything about the impossible.

 The demon king said, and the girl's figure disappeared in a huff.
 He walked up the stairs, unconcerned.

 Then seven days passed.

 The dazzling snow and moonflower descended again, and a silver-haired girl appeared.

''Why do you want to corrupt the Moon of Creation?''

I don't get it. Why would you ask me that?

 The girl stared at the Demon King in silence.

When the morning comes, the Sun of Ruin destroys life, and when the night comes, the Moon of Creation gives birth to new life. It gives birth to kill and it kills to give birth. We are not your toys.

It's the way of the world.

Then perish.

 The girl rolls her eyes in surprise.

''If you say that such unreasonableness is the way of the world, then let it perish.

"If reason perishes, order perishes. The world will perish.

 The Demon King glares at the girl who speaks so matter-of-factly, with a killing intent.

''Are you kind, this world?''

 She does not answer that question.
 Or maybe she couldn't answer it.

'Is the world so big that we have to protect it? Killed and destroyed, all hope long gone. This is a huge torture chamber called the world. As long as we follow its rules, no light will shine on it, and only the screams will be the spirit of the tree.

 The demon king stopped and said to the girl who was staring at him from on high.

He said to the girl who was staring at him from on high: "O nameless god! Carve especially on its skull. I'm not the one who will always play by your rules with the clichéd threat of the world's destruction.

 She said as she put silence on her body and broke it.


 When the Demon King gives her a questioning look, the girl continues.

'Militia, the creator god. The order that created this world. What is your name?

"Demon King Anos.

 The Demon King replied.


 It was a matter-of-fact tone.

'........the world is not kind.......'

 The girl disappears, leaving behind the snow and moon flower.
 The demon king stood still and stared at the flower.

 He did not know what he was thinking, but he did not try to walk away.
 He stood still, staring at the far away as if he was trying to think, looking into its depths.

 An hour passed, then four hours, then ten hours, then a whole day.

 Still standing there, not moving the slightest bit, a snow and moonlight-like snow and moonflower descended in front of him again.
 At the top of the stairs, a silver-haired girl appeared.
 Militia looked into the Demon King's abyss with her emotionless eyes.

''Hm. You were quicker this time.''

I was waiting for you.

 Quickly, Militia points to the Demon King.
 He's been waiting for her, I guess that means he's been waiting for her.

Do you understand?

I know.

Oh, I see. You're a real creator.

 The Demon King turned away and sat down on the dark staircase.
 He looked at the world below him without the hostility that he had directed towards the above him.

 With a slightly melancholy expression on his face.
 Militia wondered at that and went down the stairs.

 For the first time, the distance between them closed in.

'I need to ask you something.'

 With his back turned, the Demon King turned only his face towards Militia.

'The world?'

I'm talking about you.

 Militia rolled her eyes slightly.

'Come to think of it, I've never really tried to understand the divine race either. Militia, let me hear your thoughts.

 She responded in an emotionless voice.

'God is order. There is no anger, sorrow, kindness, or pride in us. We just arise as order and perform our role. This body is immortal, so it doesn't even live.

You mean you don't have feelings?

"An immortal being does not need thoughts. It is a right to live that is given only to the living.

 Militia uttered that in an inorganic voice.
 The demon king sent his gaze to the ground and after thinking for a while, he said

'God is not immortal.'

 It was a word of certainty.

"There is no such thing as an immortal being in my sight.

 The demon king asked the creator god again.

'Can you tell me about yourself?'

 Without losing her expression, Militia asks back.



 For a moment, God in the form of a girl kept his mouth shut.
 A long, long time passed.

 Eventually, she said.

'I have a sister.'

Huh. Are you guys close?

I've never met him.


That's the way it works.

 As she spoke this, the eastern sky began to turn red.
 Soon, the long night is about to dawn.

The Moon of Creation will disappear. Our time on earth is at an end.

Now, can I ask you one last question?

 Militia nodded.
 The Demon King asks.

'What is your sister's name?'

 The moon in the silvery night sky disappeared and the sun began to rise instead.
 Militia disappears from the scene in a huff, turning into a snow and moon flower that reflects the glittering light.

 Leaving her sister's name there.

 Months and days pass.
 Life on earth perished without change, and tens of millions of lives were lost.

 It was the night seven years after that day--

 The Moon of Creation is shining in the sky again.

 In a clean world where time seems to have stopped, a dark staircase hangs over the silvery white moon.
 Someone is climbing it.

 The Demon King of Tyranny, Anos Voldigord.
 When he had walked for seven days and seven nights and the mountain had grown to the size of a pebble, a silvery white snow moonflower fluttered down the steps.

 Gradually it grew brighter and brighter, taking the shape of a person.
 Militia, the God of Creation, appeared in the same silver-haired girl's form as in the past.

''Hm, it's been a while, Militia.''

It's been seven years.

 Militia comes down the stairs.

'I have a souvenir for you today,'

 The demon king took out a letter from his pocket and handed it to the girl.

'It's from my sister.'

 When the Demon King said that, Militia cut the seal of the letter and took out a letterhead from inside.
 What was drawn on it was a magic circle. As the girl gently touched her hand, the words replayed in her head.

 Militia, who had been listening to it for a while, showed the slightest of smiles.

'What did it say?'

 Still, she turned her eyes to the Demon King.

'Have you not read it?'

"I can't read a letter to a stranger.

 Militia said.

'Say hello to my Demon Lord.

'Hmm. Well, I had to work hard to get that written down.

 The Demon King sits down on the stairs and Militia stands beside him.

'I had a dream,'

Ho. Even gods have dreams.

 Militia shakes her head quietly from side to side.

'First time.'

What's the dream?

God reincarnated.

 Militia said as she thought back to the far earth.

'What will happen?'

"After incarnation, order is order. God is God.

 She says the words in a matter-of-fact manner.

'But in my dream, God could be a life other than order. I have given my sister my everything.

I'm taking over everything and what about you?

 Staring at me, she said.

'I don't know,'

 The demon king thought and then asked.

"So what did you want to do?

I wanted to be a kindness in a cold world.

 The Demon King smiled at the words of the Creator God that casually spilled out.


No. I just think it's a stupid thing to do.

 As if to mock himself, he says.

'There are all kinds of gods among the gods.

There is an order of things. There is no life.

 Smiling thinly, the Demon King asks.

''Do you have time tonight?''

A little.

So let's pick up where we left off seven years ago. We'll talk about it until the morning comes.

 It was a night when the silvery white moon was shining and snow, moon and flowers were falling.
 At the top of the dark staircase in the sky, the God of Creation and the Demon King were chatting with each other in hushed tones.