So it should have been impossible for the Castlefall Sword as Shin used it to exist in Militia’s World, huh?
“The existence of a chief god with the order of Castlefall has not been detected by Pablohetra. When it comes to limited elements, it’s possible for those from the shallows to influence those from the depths. But there has never been any sign of a limited element with Balandias’s weakness in the Sacred Silverwater Sea before.”
That explained why Zaimon had been so shocked. To him, the Castlefall Sword Mezberetta was an object that shouldn’t have existed in the silver seas at all.
“Is that incomprehensible to you?” I asked.
“It’s an extremely rare situation, but I can think of several possibilities in which it could occur. If you know the reason for it in this case, would you be willing to share?”
“I told you before, our world is defective. Just like what we did to the Royal Tiger Maytilen just now, we changed Equis into a more convenient tool. To put it simply, Equis doesn’t control Militia’s World at all.”
Ottolulu closed her mouth. It seemed this hadn’t been one of the several possibilities she had considered.
“I’ve never heard of such a silver bubble...”
“Do you get it now?”
She fell silent once again.
“Understood,” she said after a long moment of thought. “Militia’s World has evolved in a way unprecedented in the Sacred Silverwater Sea.”
Ottolulu looked away from me and surveyed the Gallery of Causality.
“I can feel the magic power of Militia’s World at work in this gallery, even though it belongs to Balandias. It’s a colorless order with no bias, and it seems to signify that the Royal Tiger Maytilen has been recreated into the property of Militia’s World.”
Since Misha was the one who recreated it, that was inevitable.
“It just seemed wasteful to destroy her,” I said simply.
Ottolulu stared back at me in silence.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“In the history of Pablohetra, there have been no worlds unaffected by the will of their chief god, nor worlds that have acquired the chief gods of other worlds before. The problem,” she replied, “is that I do not know if this is a problem.”
“Bwa ha ha. Makes sense,” I laughed. “There’d be no end to it if you had to worry about every little thing.”
“According to the principles of Pablohetra, my duty is to respect the decisions of the rulers of each world,” Ottolulu said.
As the Arbitration Goddess, Ottolulu maintained neutrality. Now, if only the rulers of other worlds thought the same...
“Pablohetra seeks information. May I investigate this gallery?” she asked.
“Do as you please.”
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
Ottolulu bowed once and left.
I turned to Misha. “Misha. Where did you put it?”
“This way.”
I followed Misha through the gallery. Beside her, Sasha looked at us curiously.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Costoria and Atzenon’s Lions of Ruin are after mom,” I replied. “I’ve got Aeges on guard, but the people pursuing her are residents of the deep-level worlds. Even with Equis’s protection, there’s no telling what could happen.”
“I get that, but what does that have to do with the gallery?”
Misha opened a door to a room, where inside a single painting was displayed.
“Huh? There’s a picture in this frame already.” Sasha stared at the painting. It was a portrait of a silver tiger cub. “What’s this—”
“Rawr!”
Sasha flinched back. The tiger cub in the painting had moved forwards with a cute roar.
“Don’t tell me... Just like Equis...”
“When she detects the causality of war, she’ll leap from the painting and protect mom with her life. She’ll buy her some time.” I took the painting into my hands. “Besides, mom likes cats.”
“It’s a tiger,” Sasha pointed out.
“Rawr!” the tiger cub version of Maytilen roared menacingly.
I glared at her coldly with the Magic Eyes of Mauve.
“M-Mew...” the tiger cub cried weakly.
“It’s a cat,” I corrected.
“Whatever...” Sasha muttered tiredly.
Misha meowed back at the tiger cub in the painting.
“Shall we get going, Farris?” I said, turning around. I had heard his approaching footsteps.
“Where to?” he asked.
“Dilhade. You should see how our nation has changed in the past two thousand years with your own eyes.”
Farris gasped. He had the face of a man struck by inspiration, as though a sudden vision was expanding in his mind.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“No. I have already seen the change. Right here, at this very moment.”
“Oh?”
He walked past me, ignoring my questioning look, to stand before the wall. It was tall, wide, and white like a canvas.
“No matter how far you are from home, I can see a glimpse of the new Dilhade in you and your followers, Your Majesty.”
He drew a magic circle and pulled out his beloved magic brush.
I could tell his senses were sharpening. The artistic soul he hadn’t revealed in the midst of battle was now bared in front of me, quietly, warmly. He’d said he only had a vague idea of what to draw, but his head was full of images already. It was this look, out of all the ones I’d seen, that suited him best.
“Oh, how beautiful this world is,” Farris murmured.
Magic particles gathered where Farris moved his brush. On the gallery wall layers of color were placed as if by magic.
Three primary colors merged together, forming a myriad of subsequent shades. The colors gained shape, and in the span of mere seconds, an image took form. Having poured his entire soul into the work, at its completion, Farris was panting and sweating heavily.
“What do you think?” he asked, turning around and kneeling before me. “Here is the painting of peace I promised you two thousand years ago, Your Majesty.”
On the large canvas of the wall had been drawn a single path—not any particular street of Dilhade, but a fictional path. A large number of demons were walking it: Misha, Sasha, Shin, Lay, Misa, Arcana, Eleonore, Zeshia, and Eldmed—all my subordinates were walking the same path together.
At the center was the Demon King, smiling. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his followers as they all walked the path to peace. The Demon King wore a gentle, virtuous smile I had never made in my life.
“It barely looks like me,” I mumbled.
Sasha stared at the wall with a conflicted look while Misha shook her head. Farris waited quietly for my next words.
“Someone once told me the Sacred Silverwater Sea is overrun with oppression and injustice. Are there more worlds like Balandias out there?” I asked.
“Not everything is beautiful. The principles of Pablohetra, the lull of the silver seas. The surface of the sea is rough, which is why we rise against it with hope,” Farris replied honestly. Judging from his expression, he had seen some awful worlds in his time.
“I love it. I can’t wait to see your next work,” I said to him instead.
“Do you have any requests?” he asked, still on his knees.
“The sea. Stay with me, burn the sight of me into your mind, and paint it all here, on the wall of the Gallery of Causality.”
I gestured at the white walls of the room we were in.
“This time, I’ll show you the lull of the silver seas.”
Farris looked up at me, Magic Eyes sparkling just like they did two thousand years ago. Now that his wish for a picture of peace had been fulfilled, he couldn’t help but seek further peace to paint—something like the sight of the Sacred Silverwater Sea, sparkling beautifully.
“Throughout every reincarnation, my soul is with you,” he said, bowing his head and pledging his allegiance once more. “I devote myself to painting for you, Your Majesty.”
He was capable of changing this white wall into a beautiful painting. And from here on, he’d show me images I’d never expect, colors I couldn’t imagine, scenes that looked more genuine than the real thing. There was no predicting how the artist Farris Noin would fly when he spread his wings across a canvas and let his imagination soar.
I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do next.
The End