As he listened to the grand, epic hymns and symphony resounding by his ears, and watched the red-clad young man standing high in the air beneath the stormy night sky, Pablo felt an inexplicable sense of awe.
But he quickly cast aside that emotion. A smile spread across his paint-smeared face.
Rather than retreating, he was quite excited.
"Saint Red Sage" Gilan Iros clearly possessed the status of an Apostle just like him, along with extraordinary strength.
Ever since he had been forcibly dragged into this domain and witnessed the miserable state of "Cupbearer Physician" Gabriel firsthand, Pablo had intuitively realized this.
Yet he was not afraid in the slightest.
As the Apostle of April, he was formidable in his own right. Combined with his inherently neurotic nature, bordering on madness, it was difficult for him to feel fear at all.
"Interesting! Interesting!!"
Pablo muttered to himself.
A bone-carved paintbrush appeared in his hand. Its bristles, woven from a maiden's hair, trembled in midair before him, already stained with thick blood serving as paint.
Without any warning, he began to paint.
Colored motes of light flowed from his eyes, reflecting the figure in midair as though he were studying him with all his might. With only a few strokes, the brush copied a portrait on the spot—it was Gilan.
The blood-painted portrait looked exactly like the young man in red, fitting the scene perfectly.
This was not the first time he had used this method.
He copied a painting through spirituality, then inflicted equivalent damage upon the target by destroying the painting.
But last time, he had merely dispatched one of his other selves, whose strength was less than one percent of his true body's. Now that he was acting personally, he was confident he could knock the Red Sage