Chapter 183 : Prologue – The Moon of Creation
The Mythical Age—
Snowflakes were fluttering down on the ground.
And reflecting the warm light that was shining down on them.
No… That’s not exactly how it was.
Those snowflakes were a crystallized form of light themselves.
In addition to the regular moon, there was another one floating in the night sky: the <Moon of Creation>, Artiertonoa.
That full moon, shining a silver light, illuminated the ground and made the snowflakes fall.
Those flower-shaped snowflakes generated by that moonlight were called ‘lunar snowdrops’ by many.
All forms of life showered by the light of the Moon of Creation were imbued with magic power at their core.
And from it was born the origin and foundation of all life: the source.
That land was a battlefield where many had lost their lives.
Illuminated by the silver moonlight, all the dead bodies, the broken trees, and the withered greenery on that wasteland froze as if time had stopped, and then disappeared.
When old things vanished, new things were born.
It was said that after thousands of nights of destruction, the moon would shine in the sky to perform the miracle of renewal.
Artiertonoa would recycle all the lives that were lost, maintaining the order of the world.
As the silver lunar snowdrops rained down, corpses kept piling up, but in the middle of that scenery of death seemingly frozen in time, one figure was moving.
It was a man.
Standing still in this place where overwhelming destruction tantamount to utter eradication took place, dressed in the black garment of a king, was the infamous Demon King of Tyranny: Anos Voldigoad.
He slowly stepped forward and glared at the sky with his Magic Eyes dyed mauve. A plank-like foothold of darkness appeared after the next step, then another one appeared above the previous one.
The darkness quickly formed a staircase leading to the Moon of Creation shining in the night sky.
The Demon King began to climb that staircase.
The Moon of Creation was faraway, and even after climbing so high the mountains on earth looked smaller than pebbles, the other end of the staircase was still nowhere in sight.
How much time did he spend climbing those stairs?
It seemed as if seven days had passed, yet it was still night.
As long as the Moon of Creation shone in the sky, morning would never come.
Seven days had long passed, yet the silver moon was still far away.
As the Demon King kept climbing up, lunar snowdrops fell on the dark stairs he created.
Just when the snowflakes making up the moonlight seemed to shine remarkably bright, a silver-haired girl appeared about ten steps above.
Her long hair reached her ankles, her eyes were shining silver, and she was wearing a pure-white dress.
“Turn back.” said the girl.
“I refuse.” the Demon King replied as he resumed his ascent.
However, no matter how many more steps he climbed, the distance between him and the girl never shrank.
“What is your goal?” (Silver-haired girl)
“To bring down the moon.” (Anos)
Her emotionless gaze pierced the Demon King.
“You won’t succeed.” (Silver-haired girl)
“Nothing is impossible for me.” (Anos)
When the Demon King said that, the girl suddenly vanished.
Undaunted, he proceeded up the stairs.
Seven more days had passed since then.
Once again, the dazzling lunar snowdrops fluttered down, and the silver-haired girl reappeared.
“Why do you want to bring down the Moon of Creation?” (Silver-haired girl)
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?” (Anos)
The girl stared at the Demon King without saying a word.
“When morning comes, the <Sun of Destruction> destroys lives, and when night falls, the Moon of Creation creates new lives. You gods create us to kill, and kill to create us. We’re sick of being your toys.” (Anos)
“This is the logic of this world.” (Silver-haired girl)
“Then I’ll destroy that logic.” (Anos)
The girl widened her eyes in surprise.
“If this sort of absurdity is the logic of this world, then we’re better off without it.” (Anos)
“If the logic is destroyed, so will the order. And this world will perish.” (Silver-haired girl)
The Demon King threw a murderous glare at the girl who spoke in an indifferent tone.
“Is this world a kind one?” (Anos)
The girl didn’t answer that question.
Or perhaps she was unable to.
“Is this world worth protecting? We kill and are killed, we destroy and are destroyed. All hope was lost a long time ago. This world of yours is a giant torture chamber. As long as we abide by its rules, no light will ever reach us, and only our screams will echo.” (Anos)
The Demon King stopped in his tracks and spoke to the girl who was staring at him from above.
“O god whose name I don’t know. Carve this into your skull: I’m not going to follow the rules you people have set forever just because of your cliched threat of the end of the world.” (Anos)
It was then that she broke her silence.
“Militia.” (Silver-haired girl/Militia)
When the Demon King gazed at her questioningly, she continued.
“I am Militia, the Goddess of Creation, and the order that created this world. And you?” (Militia)
“I am the Demon King Anos.” the Demon King replied.
“Anos” she said in an indifferent tone.
“…This world… isn’t kind…” (Militia)
The girl disappeared, leaving behind a lunar snowdrop.
The Demon King stood still and stared at the flower.
Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t walk any further.
As if lost in thought, he stared at the faraway <Moon of Creation>, peered into its abyss, and stood still.
One hour passed, then four, then ten. Then a whole day passed.
As he stood there, still motionless, a lunar snowdrop shining like the moon fell in front of him.
The silver-haired girl reappeared on the stairs.
Militia peered into the Demon King’s abyss with her emotionless eyes.
“Hmm. You showed up sooner this time.” (Anos)
“Because you were waiting.” (Militia)
Militia pointed at the Demon King.
Probably as a way of asserting that he was waiting for her.
“You could tell?” (Anos)
“I could.” (Militia)
“I see. Nothing less from the Goddess of Creation.” (Anos)
The Demon King turned around and sat down on the dark staircase.
