"Ah! Ah! That's too much! How could you do this to our soul-infused works of art? Is this something a human would do?"
In the workshop ravaged by Iskandar, Ryunosuke Uryuu knelt amidst the ruins, sobbing. Tears streamed down his face as he surveyed the wreckage, as if his own father were buried beneath it.
"Ryunosuke! Only a select few can truly appreciate beauty and harmony. For most humans, beauty exists to be destroyed! We creators shouldn't cling too tightly to our works. Once given form, they're destined for ruin. Instead, we should find joy in the act of creation itself!"
Gilles lifted his Master, offering comfort.
"You mean we just recreate what was destroyed?"
Ryunosuke, face streaked with tears, asked.
"Exactly, Ryunosuke! Your ability to grasp others' words so directly is your virtue."
Gilles smiled, his once-terrifying face softening into a priestly warmth.
"Ah!"
Ryunosuke wiped his tears standing amidst the ruins.
"Was it because we hoped too much that we got this retribution?"
"Hey!"
Gilles suddenly grabbed Ryunosuke's shoulders, forcing him to meet his gaze.
"Listen closely, Ryunosuke. God doesn't punish humans—He only toys with them."
Gilles' expression turned grave, like a scholar proclaiming an unshakable truth.
"Lord...?"
Ryunosuke, eyes red from crying, stared in surprise at his mentor, his kindred spirit.
"I committed every act of evil and blasphemy possible in this world. Yet, no matter how much I killed or defiled, no god punished me! Looking back, God let me walk the path of evil for eight years. In the end, it wasn't God who destroyed me, but human greed—church and king sentenced me to death under the guise of justice!"
Gilles' face grew angrier, his eyes bulging. "It was all to seize my wealth and lands. Their so-called morality was nothing but naked plunder."
"But... Lord! Even so, God exists, right?"
Ryunosuke's words came as dawn broke, golden light spilling into their hidden corner.
"Why... as someone who doesn't follow faith or witness miracles, do you think that?"
Gilles looked at the man before him in disbelief.
"Because... though this world seems dull, if you look closely, you find so many fascinating, strange things. I've always thought—the world is filled with such delightful things, so perfectly arranged. When you indulge, nothing's more entertaining than this world. There must be an artist crafting this epic tale with fifty billion characters! If I had to describe it, that could only be God!"
Ryunosuke stood, dancing in the sunlight, his smile rivaling the dawn as he shared his thoughts. Even Gilles was captivated by his words and charisma.
Gilles saw a glimpse of that girl from centuries ago—the holy maiden he'd just parted with, so like yet so unlike Ryunosuke. Unconsciously, he asked, "Ryunosuke, does God love humanity?"
"Of course, from the bottom of His heart! Writing this world's script non-stop—how could He do it without loving it? He's probably thrilled, admiring His own work. God adores humanity's hymns of courage and hope, but He also loves blood, screams, and despair. Why else would creatures' innards be so beautiful? He must love this world."
Ryunosuke gestured wildly, proclaiming his views, glowing as if he wore a protagonist's aura, delivering a grand speech.
Tears clouded Gilles' eyes. He was utterly won over. This Master, who summoned him by chance, this kindred spirit, had become his second guide—a guide to darkness.
"In an era where commoners abandon faith and rulers discard divine will, I never imagined such vibrant, fresh belief taking root. I'm convinced, my Master Ryunosuke!"
Gilles bowed to Ryunosuke with a gentleman's courtesy, genuinely awed.
"Don't! I'll get embarrassed."
Ryunosuke scratched his head sheepishly.
"But, from your religious view, my blasphemous acts are just... play?"
Gilles asked.
"Think about it! Even villains need to perform well, right? Make people laugh—that's a top-tier artist. For your ruthless antics, God would probably respond with a playful shrug."
Ryunosuke, like a divine envoy, answered his "disciple's" doubts.
"Hahahaha! Blasphemy or praise—it's all worship to you? Oh, Ryunosuke, your philosophy is profound! God treats all beings as beloved dolls, yet He's a clown too? I see! That explains His cruel tastes. Let's paint His garden with vivid despair and cries! We'll show the directors above that God isn't the only one who understands entertainment!"
"Cool! So cool! Let's do even cooler things, Lord Bluebeard!"
In the shattered ruins, two "demons" cheered, celebrating the feast of blasphemy and praise they were about to unleash.
"You probably won't get the chance..."
From the darkness, a blue flame flickered. Assassin, clad in heavy armor, approached, sword in hand.
He'd followed the commotion from Iskandar's attack, anticipating Caster's return, and waited.
"You—"
The moment Gilles spoke, Assassin crossed over ten meters in a flash, raising his greatsword overhead.
Gilles couldn't react, but his grimoire did.
Thick black mist enveloped him and Ryunosuke, and they vanished.
But... an arm fell to the ground. A clean cut!
"Getting old..."
Assassin glanced at the arm dissolving into spiritrons, stepped back, and melted into the darkness.
***
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