Fly the Flag of Fire!

The depression of the moonshadow forest is a dark cloth sewn in and braided over a thousand years. Nebula swirling blue-purple nights are watermarked ahead of billions of branch leaves, which makes history feel ancient by making no fine dust noise either. Reminds me of the time.

People are annoying. People are brittle. People are too short compared to the grandeur of this world.

Down on a mossy rock, Eleonora looked far away. Lower your gaze. Northwest as a direction? The raw of a man who is busily repeated over the great operation of the earth...... the light of his blink is small but intense and beautiful. Because it's close. Very trivial. They move Eleonora's mind with intimacy.

You can leave it to God to absolutely live, etc. Whoever goes to the earth is good relative. Subjective. You just have to colour that limited raw with a limited experience, as the mind is born with. That's fine.

Everyone is a traveler. Try the arrow. It's a curve consisting of a single brush. Drawing a trajectory of life in this void is like a meteor that disappears, drawing is like disappearing. There's no point in each of them. But beautiful and loving to each one.

"Did they call you again?"

I could hear the sound of beauty tickling my ears and confusing my mind. Voices, but not people's voices. It can't be the voice of people. A voice of enchantment that directly shakes lives...... a voice of witches. It resonates with the tone that best reaches the listener.

It was the witch who made the night itself appear above the rock shadow.

She has a fine physique and is shorter than Kai. I don't possess the kind of wand a picture story witch would have. It smells like a strange drug, and that obscures the extraordinary essence hidden behind a dark long coat.

Dust Dream Forest Witch, Mikazain.

He is the undisputed demon who manipulates the magic of wonder and dominates the dreaded realm. He is also the Lord who holds Eleonora's life.

"Life resonates. Some of the brave men of our time are good."

Is it the action of moonlight, the shadow of the headscarf is thin tonight? Witch's mysterious eyes peek from the back. Its eyes have few white eye areas, and for that matter only a hundred colors swirl in the large iris, and there is a constant brightness similar to the star blink. Even more unrealistic in the woods of the devil outside the usual... is the evil eye of a witch.

Don't. Don't take a long look at these eyes. My mind disappears in front of my misdigit life.

Eleonora took her gaze off with a similar determination to amputate her limbs. The witch seemed to laugh small. withstand the compelling. There is sweat in the meantime. Eleonora, who can now deal with any demon without fear.

A witch is utterly outrageous. It is vivid in the metaphor of willful enchantment, etc.

The truth, it's not a person. Because everything is different from people because of their background as organisms and their nature. Its presence looks terrible to the demigods where the Church denies its existence. Or... should I even say half-elf in a picture story style? Those who continue to be in this world without the time constraints of life cannot be the same life as people, flora and fauna.

"Well, I can't wait. That's beyond my expectations."

The words whined to the other side. That direction is still northwest.

I can't wait for the witch to live far away, and wonder what “that” could not fit inside my expectations. A person would be that man. Isn't it a disturbance centered on that man where he made it a phenomenon?

Marco Hahato.

who are at the heart of the Kingdom of Asuria and strongly influence the world.

Something you never could see before is something you would see if you overlapped breathing outside of human society. How could I not see it?

An angry giant, that man.

I can see the fierceness of burning down heaven. I can see the indignation that just burns down the ground. That man doesn't recognize the existence of this world. It doesn't seem hateful, but I guess depending on the matter, I won't even quit destroying the world.

In fact, that man has so far continued to hasten the doom of the world. This world, which is only so painfully surviving in the darkness of despair… a world that has not made man feel doomed by acting like a shaking cage… it has worked things in the direction of breaking the mechanisms for maintaining that status quo. Not by chance, but by understanding everything.

Eleonora thinks. That it would not be an exaggeration to say that this world is cursed by the fierceness of that man. And I think it's only a backlash.

Marco Hahato's life is cursed.

Neither its life nor its death has been able to give it a taste of serene happiness. I am imprisoned in a prison of pain. Connected by an iron chain of mourning. Never let go. I can't even forget it. There is no such thing as a means to break the curse.

It's a sin. of human society… hence the sin of this world.

Without sacrifice it will not come true, but therefore this world devours the lives of men. Sometimes even missed the itinerary, so further sins were committed to match the forms. It was cruelty upon misery, and cruelty upon irrationality, that fed the life and death of one man a curse.

One of those men is the victim, and every other human being is the perpetrator. Even for Eleonora, that's no other HR. Everyone who lives in this world is part of the curse. Whatever the difference in degree of responsibility, everyone is a sinner without exception.

What a pitiful world. It's hard to tell all life and sin is attached.

Eleonora smiled bitterly. Because I thought it was ironic. That man was also a sinner before he was cursed, but by being cursed by the world he escaped the only sin of man, and now he tries to commit an unprecedented sin by cursing the world.

Curse and sin are the breath of a witch. It fits into the routine. If so, is “that” still Marco Hahato? Who but he can exceed the witch's expectations? Let's breathe the curse and sin like witches.

I can't ask. Eleonora is not allowed to ask.

He who can show his presence in front of a witch, etc... I guess that's about Marco Hahato if he's human. Is there anyone else out there as well? I have also heard that there are special apprentices of minority origin.

"The diligence of the dreamers is love. Or maybe I'll leave this forest, too."

Because it was a stunning statement, Eleonora unexpectedly looked directly at the witch again.

Besides... oh... why are you exposing that face to night air!

Thin hair like Quinn's yarn floats without wind, including a pale pale green color like a young leaf that is clear on a leaking day. The smooth white cheeks reminiscent of the finest ceramics represent a baby-like swell and softness that innocuous and invites love. The curvature of the nose beam depicts exquisiteness that cannot help but follow with one eye at a time, at the end of which it leads to the lips that are reminiscent of the flowers that bloom ahead in the spring. The jaw is thin so as not to know the chewing, and the tip drips slightly down while the ears are also thin and pointed.

Is the appearance of isolation another demonic power?

There was a young girl there with an unknown beauty.

It enters through the eyes and burns into life itself. Shake your heart, shake your body. It seems as if the world was divided before and after seeing it. Eleonora nearly leaked her voice as she exhaled, chewing on her back teeth and indulging in it.

"Bear with it. With this, their lives will be ready to fulfill our mission."

You have to bear it. Eleonora fought with all her body and spirit, trying not to stop.

Beauty is a magic that not only compresses from the outside, but also comes from within and invades the mind. It's not like you should armor your body or mind to beat it. If fleeing senselessly also does not come true, then we must recognize the heart changed by emotion and make a new landing.

Eleonora tried it like flying a life, and saw a painful success.

With a transformed mind, I thought of my own life, which was transformed. It's neat. Now there is no shaking in front of the witch's beauty, and even if exposed to the witch's evil eye, it can remain clear.

I hear something constantly. Something that sounds mighty everywhere, albeit differently in the footsteps of doom… Is it the fetal movement of the Devil's Forest? If life was strong, death is strong again. If the survival of the world is mighty, then perhaps the doom of the world also involves something that rings in this way.

"Hmm... that was a total pick up. That amazing face in my eyes."

The witch laughed, and Eleonora smiled again.

I go to Dust Dream Forest late at night.

The upheaval of the usual world soon reaches the Devil's Forest.

This story, which begins with one vial, is finally about to come to its final act.