A Wish to Grab Happiness

Characters of mythology in the hands and feet of the Great Demon. Enemies of the human species, demons.

Once created by the Great Demon, they are still chosen and reborn to be influenced by the Great Demon. Apart from family members who are sorted by the will of the Great Demon.

Regardless of where the will of the person is. Only the Great Demon, that way it can be repainted to the presence of the demon man who was once there. Apply darker paint over the painting as if.

Whether you are a person, an elf, or a beast. It can be repainted. A demon is the only paint that is unique. Apply memory, history, even its blood.

That's the devil. Disaster itself.

And they were here. King Garrist Capital, Archet. Only a few more cities in the East.

Although disturbed by disaster and battle, the glory of the Garrist kingdom is still alive and well. Richer than other countries, people enjoy days of peace. With some inconvenience, it can be called happiness.

In the city, merchants go even though they say it's death and snow. I guess this city, close to the Wang capital, has a strong taste of its glorious side. There was a grin on everyone's face.

And the anguish of soldiers on the front line. And a petition for crest religion. Nothing to do with this place.

There was a man in the city streets. One, I was stopping behind me for people going through the city.

The man doesn't really remember why he's here. Maybe he was on his way down to his family, or he was waiting for his lover.

But by now, it didn't matter to a man anymore. Primitive memories gushing from the depths of the soul heavily repaint the man.

From the tip of your hair, to the toe of your feet. The feeling of the skin being carefully replaced, piece by piece. No screaming, no whimpering. It grows weird as a natural way of being.

By the time I realized, the man was already not a man anymore. It was just a different kind of individual.

Man - Demon Man. That individual, formerly known as the controller Drigman, drips his hair with a white breath. The expression is quiet but rough, and so pitiful.

"I'm sad. That's what tore my chest with a blade. This must be what's indispensable for words of pity."

That was just a monologue. Just words thrown in the hollow. The man who holds it in his ear skews his face in surprise, but walks down the street without paying any particular attention.

"You should see it. The color of this disgusting sky. Smell the thin, creepy air."

That wasn't the word I threw at anyone though. Maybe not in the sense of dedicating it to someone. The main great demon Zebrellis and maybe that's how it was addressed to his compatriots.

Drigman just shakes its body out of pity. Its long lips ripped open her cheeks and breathed out her white breath in full.

There was no longer a shadow of a man, neither his body, nor the shade of his face. Only the appearance of the demon who was once there is there.

"What's wrong? Did you feel bad?"

Is it a guard? Just one, someone spoke up to Drigman, who remained limp in the center of the street. Kindness and vigilance are mixed with voices. In the hands placed on his shoulders, he felt a slight but caged force.

But that stuff didn't matter to Drigman. It doesn't matter if you're a man or a woman, young or old.

This is human. How sad. Drigman toned his voice and said.

I'm sorry, but stop imitating our words.

Cold voice everywhere. So much so that I even thought I'd get my ear ripped off with that.

moment. Red struck through the white. No one who spoke up knows what was done or what happened. The moment I felt that way, its brain marrow and skeleton were jumping.

Blood is scattered, meat becomes shards. It seems as if it was even blown up. Red, death snow pouring red red blood everywhere is gone.

After a moment, screaming and yelling. The hustle and noise flood the surrounding area. In the middle of it, it's just that Drigman was sad.

Oh, where did that great world go? Where did the glory of our compatriots go?

How is it that the devil seed has given this earth to man like a man? How can we, who were once champions of the earth, be driven to the valley into the woods and allowed to prosper to them?

How can a slave species willingly put two legs on the earth?

Drigman remembers what happened once. I have struck the earth with two legs, and I do not remember ever being defeated in the meantime. Until the end, all the time.

Even though it has passed through time, the human race - the slave species and so on - said to dawn upon our earth. Impossible. Never in any miserable time have I experienced so much humiliation and hardship.

Inside the chest, a boiling thing is producing a voice. Drigman's hair paid for the blood.

- Oh, I remember you, you Altier. If it wasn't for you. Not even you. This stupid world was never even born.

Anger and hatred crawling through your guts. Something close to a sloppy obsession strokes Drigman after a long time. Forced to swallow it, Drigman sees herds of livestock gathered around him.

Confused eyes, awe-inspiring eyes, angry eyes. It's all the same for Drigman, though it's a wide variety. But is the light slightly stronger than it used to be?

It's sad. It's pathetic.

What they deserve is nothing to think about, nothing to think about. Just leaning dark eyes. He said it was just a stupid look. That is their happiness.

Drigman heard the murmur go into his ear. The livestock in front of me is talking about something. It's probably a language, but it's hard to ask if it's badly pronounced.

No. Maybe he just didn't want to ask Drigman. Whatever, no one wants to make their ears clear in the words of the cattle. Would there be anything that cattle and pigs would make a noise and try to figure it out? First of all, he's not here.

So Drigman doesn't listen to them. If I hear you, I won't try to understand what you mean.

"Let me forgive you just one thing. I am generous. Unlike Gem Ba-Agatos"

The name of a former compatriot. Does she also have legs on this land? Or is the soul still asleep in the earth?

Well, that's a good story now, too. Still the Lord himself, the Great Demon Zebrellis, is under the control of the Hate Altier. Then let's follow suit now.

Therefore, there is only one thing to do. Exhale, leak. I saw both livestock in front of me.

Correct the world to the way it should be. To that world as it should be, with man and beast as livestock. We must return to a wonderful true world.

I think it's wonderful that those who are just livestock have developed society so far. I think it's great. But that can only be done under the control of the demonic species. That's the love Drigman has for them.

They are righteous. Justice itself, naturally. Being a person or a beast is what feels its happiness in the service of greatness.

With legitimate affection and pity, Drigman says.

"- Do you want to finish here? Or choose whether you want to finish as livestock. It will be self-evident which is happier. I'm telling you, you can't beat me."

At the same time, an adventurous human neck with a weapon blew up. It's not a metaphor. It just blasts as it is, scattering blood and flesh. What escaped with its back turned, its legs smashed and exploded.

The bewildered, the fleeing, the frenzied. Everyone was too abrupt to decide that attitude to this situation.

Controller Drigman, who was just one of them, thinks.

We were wrong once. As a result, it transformed the beautiful world into such a corrupt world. Then I'll have to try again.

Let's redraw. Painting, this world.

A foolish being just lets him survive being foolish and doesn't allow anything but to obey. That's the world that makes you happy. To get that great world back.

Right, once now. Can we start over?

"Isn't that good? It's getting interesting. We're having fun."

Let's crush the crazy world where humans are the champions of the earth and start over now. For us and them.