516-Whereabouts of the soul

 The light of doom falls on Zelidheavenus.

 The huge fortress, which has turned into a shining silver castle, burns its walls, scorching its ship's body and destroying its wings.

 The current Zelidhavenus would certainly have that much stubbornness.

 However, it was toothless.

 Sasha released , laying waste to Zelidheavenus with an overwhelming force of destruction.

 In the blink of an eye, the thick hull of the ship was scorched and destroyed, and the ship's body was half destroyed.

''If it's damaged that badly, it won't be able to fly properly anymore.

 I look down at Zelidheavenus and say.

'How long are you going to carry the burden? <Come to me in the Astrastella of creative arts, Farris. Let the men of Varandias see the true wings you paint.

"...to smear my brush with blood.

 Faris' voice echoed.

 As if holding the battered ship's body together with its creation magic, Zelidheavenus still did not lose its brilliance.

 Spreading its wings hard and wielding its magic power, it was rising slightly but surely in the midst of the light of doom pouring down.

''- painting the corpse on the canvas.

 Faris's magical power was dutifully keeping the crumbling castle barely in shape.

''Your Majesty, I felt I had to protect it as well.''

 In his own words, as if to exhort himself, he says

"My comrades in arms.

 How many battlefields have you crossed after your reincarnation?

"The people.

 That it was not an easy battle can be imagined by looking at this Zelidhavenus.

"The works of the masters,

 It was an unmistakable hell for him.
 A creator who was too kind to get out of it - he could never get out of it.

'When a powerful enemy loomed in front of me, there was only one way for me to fight. Will I die as a sorcerer, or will I protect them as a warrior? When confronted with that choice, I decided to dye this ship a bright red color.''

 As if wielding his deadly power, a magical barrier covered all directions of Zelidheavenus.

''After all this time.......how can I.......how can I draw a picture now? I am not qualified to hold a brush, having stained my work with blood.'

 Zelidhavenus floats up.

I have turned this Zelidhavenus into a weapon. I have defiled his soul and even sold him to the devil. No matter who forgives me, the picture will not forgive me.'

 As if in response to his thoughts, his wings flew heroically through the light of doom.

It's not a good idea to be merciful. It's a good idea to have a good time. I've saved what you can't save by painting! I may not be able to paint a picture of peace, but I can paint peace. That is my last hope as a warrior.

 While the fuselage was destroyed to pieces, Zelidheavenus still pressed on to the Eclipse of Doom.

''I will definitely show you how to lead Balandias with these wings!

 The ship accelerates faster and faster.
 With broken wings, but more powerfully than ever.

Yeah, go! Faris!

 A voice rang out from the ground.
 It was Zymon and the lords of the Barandias castle.

'You, you are the wings of Balandias!

"The flower of war, the incarnation of war!

There's no one more beloved by the Silver Castle than Lord Faris!

"The creator of the world's only Ginjo and the greatest warrior in the world!

"We are the demons of the castle! Let's take a shot at the impregnable Zeridhavenus, let's give the Militia world a shot!

 As if pushed by cheering, Zelidheavenus rose even more.
 With its battered ship's body and broken wings, the figure heading towards the light looks like it's dubbed Faris himself.

 I put a  Then, I loosely accelerate downwards.

"Mister Faris! Our heads of state! You are the rare man of Balandias--

 A roaring sound of baggy, giggling and roaring pierced his ears.
 Before the eyes of the castle demon tribe, this right arm snapped the right wing of Zelidheavenus with this right arm.

"But enough of this nonsense. And remember. "The inhabitants of Barandias, you demons who know nothing but war. Your eyes are nasty!

 He clenched his fists, shattered the outer wall.

"Farris. "Faris, my men who loved freedom. You have survived this hell.

 He tore the turret apart, tearing it apart with his bare hands.

"Every one of them praises you as a warrior, and none of them can match your strength.

 They flew around Zeridhavenus, smashing the ship's hull one by one like a square castle round.

'But enough of that. I will break these things. I will crush their hopes to pieces before their eyes and show them what real warriors are.

 He flew straight up and smashed through the left wing, knocking it down with force.

 As the light of doom descends, they break, break, and destroy to pieces the castle, sturdier than the world.
 The wings of hope they swooped down on, the unmoving castle that only binds you to it.

 I will destroy it to the uttermost, right here in front of you!

"Tremble with fear, Balandias. This is the power. This is the true battle.

 Somebody had to say it and do it.

 Someone had to stop him.

 But they weren't there.
 The inhabitants of Balandias did not understand the picture, and none of them were a match for Faris, the creator.

'Is this the weapon? This stuff? A castle as delicate as this paperwork?

 The half-destroyed Zelidhavenus, in front of it, there was a point where countless artifacts were connected and magical power was supplied.

 Painted on that spot was the magic formula of the .

 Two thousand years ago, Farris had drawn a picture of the Fashima forest there.
 Even if he went into battle, as a creator, he would not allow his magic to be engraved there.

 His beliefs were there.
 In the midst of the battlefield, that tiny canvas was the only place for his soul.

 A sanctuary he could be as him, a sanctuary that must never be violated in order to fly the battlefield as a creator.

 That was what Faris bent.
 How much of a struggle it was, how much of anguish it was.

 Every time he looked at this castle, Faris would find himself in endless wailing.

'I will free you from this prison,'

 The black particles of the seven-fold spiral clothed my entire body.

 I swung my fist as hard as I could and struck at the magic of the .

 With a thunderous roar that pierced my ears, I broke it and shattered the wall. Beating, crushing and destroying that pathetic art form, which was carved to fight as a warrior, to pieces with these hands.

 The castle, which, along with the stone walls, had been piled up with tragedy, was destroyed, destroyed, and smashed to the ground without a trace.

 And so, as I broke through all of Zelidhavenus' thick defensive walls and entered, I saw Faris standing on the bridge.

''Hey, Faris,''

 I said to him as I stepped loosely on the floor. 

'I knew you weren't cut out for this. Not a warrior.

"....Your Majesty...

 A resolute warrior's face.
 But it seemed to me like a lost child who was about to cry out.

"There are many people in the Demon King's Army who are good at fighting. But they can't paint a picture.

 I take a step toward him.

"It's not a heroic character. "No heroes, no heads of state. Is there a place for you here?

 Gulping, he says.

"....Faris Noyn, the creator, is dead. He has sold his soul to the devil.

'Sold your soul? To whom? To Cartinas? Say something stupid.

 I laughed and said to him.

'Your soul was bought by me two thousand years ago. How are you going to sell what you don't have?'

 Faris rolls his eyes.
 I walked straight ahead.

'They've all said whatever they wanted to, though. If it's not your choice, I'm not going to give it to anyone. Not to Cartinas, not to Meityren, not to this Balandias.

 She walks over to Faris and whispers softly beside him.

'Whether you cry or scream, let me hold the brush in your hand and force you to paint, Faris.

 He looked at Faris's face at close range and said with unwavering intent.

'You're mine.'

 I point to my own chest with my hand.

"Your spirit is here. The spirit of Faris Noyn, the sorcerer, is still here. His noble heart is not so cheap that it is clouded with gore.

"...Your Majesty........

 With a shocked look on his face, he collapses and falls to his knees in place, and Faris hangs his head at my feet.

 Drops of tears spilled out incessantly.
 With a scratchy voice, he let out his thoughts.

''........if I can still be forgiven.......''

 Clenching his fists, Faris said as he hung on to me.

"...I wish to paint, Your Majesty...

 As if.

Like 2,000 years ago, when you were at your side...

I forgive you.

 He had been seeking.

 In the war-torn Barrandias, he still sought a place to paint.

 A place where he could paint.
 A place where he could paint and be seen.

 I think he was looking for a place to put his soul.

I think he was looking for a place for his soul. I will destroy all the unreasonableness that binds you to your freedom.

 I quickly reach out in front of Faris' eyes.
 He looks up at me, tears spilling out of his eyes.

'I'm sorry you've been waiting so long, Faris.