Two thousand years ago--
　At the southern end of Dillhade, the island of Domunflus is home to a forest of fasima trees.

　Fasima are long and slender trees whose branches and leaves absorb toxins and miasma, then filter and purify the miasma through their trunks. It is equipped with such natural magic.

　The cloth made from the fibre of Fashima's leaves is used as a canvas for paints and magical power, and is also used as a canvas for magic paints. The sap was a good source of paint, and the branches were ideal for making brushes.

　Therefore, Domunflus was considered a sacred place for painters, and enthusiasts gathered there.

　The island was protected from being drawn into civil warfare between demons, humans and spirits, and from the burning of the Fathima forest.

　Facing a canvas in the shade of Fashima's clean, airy trees, a man has also come to the island of Domunculus to protect the forest.

　Faris Noin, the creator.
　His shining golden hair is finished in an artistic pompadour, and he wears loose-fitting clothing in beige tones.

　His brushes are as precise as his limbs, and as soon as he applies paint to the canvas, the magic is there.

　If he had painted fire in the sky, it would have consumed everything that had wings, and if he had painted land on the sea, an island would have appeared at once.

　The terrible magic of creation, yet Farris just enclosed it in the canvas. All of his mighty powers and sophisticated magical techniques are merely the byproducts of his ideal painting.

　That single white space is where his soul is.

　Faris, who had been running his brushes single-mindedly, suddenly took a breath.
　He felt a presence behind him.

'Did I interrupt you?'

　Faris turned around and saw a young man in black standing there.

　Strangely enough, his face was invisible.
　Some kind of magic, a dark shadow fell, masking the young man's true face and magical power.

'No, sir. I was just taking a break.''

It's a beautiful painting.

　The young man stepped forward and stood directly behind Faris.
　The painting on the canvas was a tree branch, minus the leaves. It was an abstract painting. The branches and trunks were divided into countless numbers and were about to glow.

To your evil eye, this is how this grove of trees looks like.

How did you know it was a grove of trees?

　Faris asked, as if intrigued by the young man's words.

　The painting on the canvas might look like a tree, but it was too small in scale to be interpreted as a forest.
　Nevertheless, the young man guessed exactly what Faris had painted.

I was just following your gaze. I'm sure you'll be able to get a good idea of what you're looking at. It's interesting.

　A slight peek of his mouth peeked out from the shadows and he saw that the young man was smiling.

'What do you find amusing, sir?'

'This is the picture you painted while peering into the abyss of this copse of fasima. In other words, you are looking into the abyss of Fasima, yet you are not looking into the abyss.

　Faris was impressed.
　The point was correct. The essence of what he was painting was not the trees.

'Do you know what I'm looking at?

Well, I don't know much about painting. I don't know much about painting.

If you guessed it, I'll make you a drawing of your choice.

"Law.

　This time, the young man gave a curious look.

''You're not the demon race of this island. Unless you are a creator or painter, the only people who come here are invaders or those who want to become our patrons.

"Uninvited guest," as you like to say.

Those who seek out our services have always had obsessive ambitions.

That's a tough one.

　Faris stared at the young man. He is closer than before, but his face is still indistinguishable.

　The creator has an excellent magical eye. I'm sure you'll be able to see the true nature of things in order to be able to manipulate creative magic to a high degree.

　The fact that the identity of Faris Noin, who was even called a rare creator, could not be detected just shows that he is not an ordinary man.

　Faris focused his magic power on his demon eyes and went even deeper, looking into the roots lurking behind the shadows.
　'I want a ship,' the young man said.

''I want a ship. A ship that can fly through the skies of destruction.''

You must be kidding. ＜When the Sun of Doom shines through the sky, nothing can fly. No matter what kind of flying ship you use, your wings will be scorched and you'll be tossed to the ground.

Except for one thing.

　Faris looked back at the young man with a straight face.

'It will be under this island. You've been working on the flying ship Zelidhavenus for the last 100 years and it will be ready soon.

　When the young man uttered that, Faris was speechless in surprise.
　After a few seconds of silence, he finally opens his mouth.

''........where did you get that.......?''

I overheard. I snuck in yesterday to check it out.

　Faris's gaze turns grim.
　He didn't expect someone to be able to sneak into the stronghold of creationists with excellent magic eyes.

''........What do you intend to do?

Fallen God of Destruction.

　The young man put it off without a care in the world.
　It's as if it's a matter of course to bring down the castle.

Go home.

　A sharp voice flew from behind the young man.
　At the same time, a group of demons appeared from the shadows of the forest.

　They are all sorcerers, just like Farris.

I'm sure you're mistaken, but this Zelidovenus is not a weapon. It's a work of art.

　The first man, Van, said.
　'He's the master of Atelier Domunflus, an organisation of creationists and painters formed on this island.

'I know,'

We're willing to sell our power on the terms. If you want me to build a ship, I'll consider it. But the work is the creator's soul.

I'm asking you to sell your soul.

　The creationists returned the youth's words with a sharp look.
　They all drew a magic circle and grabbed the magic brush that had appeared.

　In their magical eyes, there was a hint of hostility.

You must be a very powerful demon to have the way you talk to us, after you set foot on this island all by yourself. But L'Atelier Domnfurz won't sell your soul. You will leave here with all your might.

　They paint the art of Ibis with their brush tips.
　When the young man makes a move, they will turn on each other at once.

...Master Van. Please stop.

　Faris said.
　I could see the obvious irritation on his face.

'Don't worry. ─ Don't worry, this is our sanctuary. If you try to trample on it with your feet, you won't get away with it.

　Van draws a magic circle with his brush.
　The moment the young man moved his fingertips gently, Van used the magic of Ibis, but it didn't work.

　But it didn't work.
　The magic circle drawn by Van had been painted over with pure white paint.

　Faris's brush had overpainted the technique in an instant.

'Please stop, Master Van. If you fight poorly, this holy place will sink.

...is it worth it?

　Van asks.
　Quietly, Faris tells him.

"Is the beauty of decadence more fragrant because it is invisible? All the more so because it is invisible.

What...?

　Van exclaimed.
　He understood what Faris was trying to say.

"I'm not sure if this is the same Anos who defeated the grimoire king Bomilas and is now ruling over Dirheid...?

　He must have finished seeing beyond the shadows.
　Faris says with a tone of conviction.

'Isn't that right?'

You have a very evil eye. The gods mustn't have suspected you, but it would have been impolite not to show yourself.

　The shadow that Anos wore disappeared, revealing his figure.

　Instantly, the bodies of the sorcerers began to tremble.
　It's as if their bodies don't do what they say they're going to do, they're scared of their own accord.

　With their excellent magic eye, they could see into his abyss, but they understood his immense magical power and sensed his fear without a fight.

　Bending their knees, they looked as if they were about to prostrate themselves.

　Even Master Van could only stand still.

　Faris was the only one who could move properly.

"Please take my body wherever you wish. I'll give you my life, Anos. But I can't sell my studio and my soul.

What if I tell you I don't forgive you?

'Be beautiful,' is my brush and my soul. "Beautiful is my brush and my soul, and you have the power to corrupt it. But a soul that is unclean can only rot.

　Faris stared at Anos with eyes without hesitation.
　If he displeased the demon king, even his dignity would be thoroughly violated. He must have known that.

　Still, there was something he could not concede.

''Hm.''

　Anos turned his gaze away from Faris and looked at the canvas he was painting on.

'It's a beautiful painting. I suppose this is a copse of fasima in the depths of your mind. What you are looking at is a tree, not a tree. Hence, something different from the real thing is painted this way.

　Faris listens silently to the Demon King's words.
　In the next moment, his life might be taken away. Such a sense of tension lingered in the place.

''I'm not good at painting, but I can't help but understand what you're thinking. This is a wish. The Fashima forest that absorbs toxins and purifies it. It is hoped that the poisonous toxin of strife that pervades this world will be removed and a clean age will arrive.

　Anos turned to Faris.

'Good times without these paintings.

　Faris's hesitant eyes were painted with astonishment.
　He had never expected that the man who was even called the Demon King of Tyranny would see into his own heart.

'Isn't it?'

No.

　Puzzled, Faris replies.

'That is correct, sir.'

Then draw a picture as you promised.

　Anos said.

'A picture of peace that could not be more perfect. The picture you truly want to paint.'

　A shock hit Faris as if he had been struck by lightning.

　He thought. Maybe that moment he had been waiting for, that moment he thought would never come, had come.

　Carefully, as if choosing his words, Faris said.

''Well my pictures are only as good as the imaginary and the real. You can imagine peace. But I have never seen peace....

　He can't paint a picture of peace.
　He kept wishing to paint, but it would never come true.

　That's what he thought.

'That's why I'm going to fall the god of destruction. Without that god, many of us would live on longer. I will stand through the cycle of hatred and--

　The Demon King said proudly.

''I will end this war.''

　It's something I would never dream of doing.
　There is no way anyone could do such a thing.

''........Are you seriously saying that?''

　Anos met the questioning gaze straight away.
　His eyes were unwavering and peaceful.

Faris, I will buy your soul. I will not say for free. I will give you peace.

　Drops of tears spilled from Faris' eyes.
　He knelt there as it was and hung his head to Anos.

　The infamous Demon King Anos. But Faris did not suspect him in the slightest.
　He continued to paint Fashima's forest. He was the only one who understood its true meaning.

　In the age of mythology, when strife was constant, no one ever spoke of peace to the demon tribe, even though they raised their spirits to destroy their enemies. Everyone had given up on the idea that it would never end, that it was never going to end.

　No, they didn't give up, or even think about it, they believed that fighting was normal.

　For the first time, he had someone who understood.
　He wanted to paint the picture he wanted, Faris thought.

　As a creator, that was his primary motivation.

"Surely, I will present His Majesty the Witch King with a picture of peace.

　Not long after this vow, Farris and Atelier Domunflus slowly came to understand that this demon king's stated ambition for peace was his true intention.

　He had corrupted the God of Destruction, reduced the number of lives lost to the world, and then began the path of peace and reconciliation, hand in hand with the God of Creation, the Great Spirit, and the brave men and women.

　Faris immersed himself in the creation of the flying castle ship Zelidhavenus.
　As it neared completion, Anos's plans were also well underway.

　After a while--.
　The perfect opportunity to corrupt the God of Destruction comes around.

　When Anos went out to Domunflus Island, he saw in front of him a flying castle ship that had countless gun gates and strong wings, and even the sky of destruction was free to run around.

''........Your Majesty, how is it?''

It's a beautiful piece of work.

　Looking into the abyss of the flying castle ship Zelidhavenus, Anos said.

'But there's one thing that bothers me.

　Anos pointed to the front of the flying castle ship.
　Seeing that, Faris made a thoughtful expression.

''You mean........that painting?''

Yeah.

　Painted on a single point where countless magic formulas were connected and supplied with magic power was a picture of a cluster of Fasima forests.

　Carving a decent jutsu in that place would improve Zelidhavenus' performance somewhat.

　Flying through the skies of destruction is a Herculean task, even for Zelidheavenus. It would be better to increase the performance of the ship to its limits, but at the same time, it was something that Faris could not afford to compromise.

　The flying castle ship Zelidovenus is not a weapon, it is a work of art.

　The gun gates have been installed. Its hull was reinforced.
　But his beliefs did not allow him to just carve an awkward piece of magic into it.

　He knew it wasn't perfect as a weapon, but he left it as it was.
　Now that he was in the Demon King's army, it was probably a naive idea.

　Still, he is a creator.
　He can't fight if he defiles his soul.

　All of his men who went with him were sympathetic to that thought.
　Even to the point of death.

　However, Farris thinks that this is not something that can be missed by the demon king who wants to fulfill his great desire for peace.

　He will be ordered to fix it.

　But it is not something that can be fixed as long as Farris is alive.
　Zeridhavenus is now complete.　

　He was ready to be punished.
　If Zelidhavenus had made it this far, it would be easy to at least make some minor adjustments after he was gone.

　He couldn't paint a picture of peace, but the Demon King would surely bring peace to him.
　That's the longing of these sorcerers.

　That's what these sorcerers want, Faris thought.

It's a poorly done picture. ─ It's a bad drawing, and I'm sure he was thinking about something else.

　Faris rolls his eyes.

'Redraw it. Beautiful.

　In exasperation, he just stared at his lord's face.

"I can't trust my life to an ugly ship. If you think you can't fly, the birds can't fly.

　Faris knelt and bowed deeply.

'Until tomorrow morning. Good.

Ha, Your Majesty.

　At this moment, Faris vows again.
　He will paint a picture of peace for this sovereign, no matter what it takes.