The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 200
Cha I-Sol had truly been moved to a safe place.
“??”
This place felt like a different world.
“It’s really bright here?”
“The other parts of the temple weren’t that dark either.”
“No, they were dark.”
“I’ve said this before, but can you pick one—either speak formally or informally....”
“Okay then, Eunha.”
“Straight to informal, huh. Fine, what is it?”
“You can speak informally with me too, Eunha.”
“I refuse.”
Iser grimaced.
“I don’t want to get close with humans like that.”
“But I want to be close with you....”
“That’s your thought, not mine.”
“I figured you’d say that.”
Cha I-Sol nodded.
“You’ve been like that from the start.”
“...Was it that obvious?”
“Yeah.”
Eunha’s eyes were always cold.
“But I was kind of relieved, because it didn’t feel like I was the only one you hated.”
“Why would that be a relief?”
“Because you hated everyone. That must mean something happened that made you hate people.”
“You’re strangely sharp about weird things....”
“Why do you hate people?”
“......”
Iser smiled.
“I even hate that kind of ignorance.”
“Okay, so why?”
“Because they took the most precious thing from me.”
“You mean Gio, right?”
“That’s right.”
I looked at him and dreamed of becoming a priest of the Sun.
“So, Cha I-Sol, I tried [N O V E L I G H T] to kill you too.”
I just couldn’t stand the disgust.
“But now you’re the first believer of the Black Cloak. No matter what happens, I won’t be able to harm you.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
“Because I once wanted to be in your place....”
“My place?”
“In the embrace of the Sun.”
Someday, when Giovanni becomes pope, beneath the sky he shaped. Also, upon the earth.
“I wanted to live as my teacher’s rightful disciple.”
It felt like destiny.
Like a future that would arrive on its own as long as I just lived a sweet life, without anything special happening.
There were too many reasons for it to become real.
“But humans crushed me.”
“......”
“...Even my teacher....”
Iser knew.
“......”
“......”
He knew very well that, on that day, he had eaten his still-living teacher.
“...There is nothing I loathe more than myself.”
“My sister, who stacked rotting corpses along our path forward... the Sun priests who locked me and my teacher in a tank... the humans too busy pointing fingers without knowing anything—I hate them all, but not more than I hate myself.”
Iser asked,
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
“What do you see me as?”
“Eunha?”
“How like you.”
But he wasn’t Eunha.
Nor was he the galaxy his name meant.
You couldn’t compare him to the gems of the night sky, barely visible when all the lights of the earth are gone.
“Do you like this room?”
“It doesn’t seem dangerous.”
“I put some thought into it.”
The room, padded with plush dolls, had no sharp corners and was entirely round.
The lighting was warm and bright—unbelievable for a deep-sea dungeon—and it carried the drowsy calm of a spring afternoon.
“I modeled it after my teacher’s hut.”
“Oh, that place is cool. And there’s lots of tasty stuff.”
Cha I-Sol said, munching on the dried fruit Iser handed over.
“But it’s different from there....”
The warmth and coziness definitely resembled Gio’s hut, but something felt off.
Like the faint whine of a fluorescent bulb—it was damp and unpleasant.
“It’s like I’m not taking a nap, but developing dementia.” freewebnoveℓ.com
“You use the strangest expressions.”
“Hey.”
Cha I-Sol said.
“I want to be your friend.”
“......”
“Gasp... your face....”
“...Please don’t be disgusting.”
He wiped at his mouth like he was feeling nauseated.
With a pale face, Iser barely responded.
“Pushing when someone already said no is a form of violence.”
“But didn’t you already commit incredible violence, Eunha...?”
“Unexpectedly sharp of you. But you’re wrong.”
“Don’t try to act like we’re the same kind of being to begin with.”
Iser was firm.
“If you’re my teacher’s third disciple.”
“......”
Cha I-Sol’s lips pouted.
“Gio isn’t my teacher though.”
“Then take pride in being his disciple.”
“We’re friends.”
“How dare you?”
“I’m talking about Gio.”
The girl asked,
“What happens when a root is moved?”
“...It will return to the sea.”
That was the final hope mermaids could cling to.
“It probably won’t be easy though.”
Gio always did only what he wanted.
It would be the same this time.
***
Giovanni took in the world.
“......”
He looked down at his hands.
“...Hmm....”
So small.
‘How old am I now?’
Maybe about thirteen.
He was in a noisy market square.
The clothes he wore looked a little too shabby for a noble.
The young Giovanni loved wearing these clothes and sneaking out into the world.
“Saint.”
“I’m not a saint.”
“Ah, yes, priest....”
“What is it?”
“You healed our son the other day.”
“It was nothing. I did it for my own selfish reasons.”
“Please, take this.”
An old man with deep wrinkles handed over an apple and disappeared.
“......”
Round, flawless, ripened to a beautiful red—it was a lovely apple.
“...Delicious.”
That man had a small apple tree growing in his yard.
Since it was still young, it didn’t bear much fruit and couldn’t support them well.
Which made this gleaming apple incredibly valuable.
‘I like it.’
It made him happy.
“Baby Saint.”
“I’m not a saint.”
“Yes, baby priest. It’s hot today, isn’t it?”
“Seems the Sun is in a good mood today.”
“Thanks to your blessing, my daughter gave birth safely.”
“That wasn’t me—it was your daughter’s strength. Congratulations.”
“Please take this water. It’s so hot today.”
The older woman handed over cold water.
She must have gone to the deepest part of her yard to fetch it just for him.
On this hot day, she had gone all the way for someone just passing by.
He was grateful.
“So refreshing.”
The ceramic cup carried the scent of a cool forest.
It must’ve come from a high-quality water source, likely kept protected from dust and bugs.
“Excuse me, Saint.”
“I’m not a saint.”
“Oh, right. But you healed my broken leg a long time ago, didn’t you?”
“I remember. It was a fracture.”
“I wanted to repay you, so I brought some honey from home.”
“That was something I chose to do. You don’t need to repay me.”
“But you should eat more sweet and tasty things.”
“Why?”
“Because you deserve it, simply as you are.”
“......”
Honey streamed into a bowl.
“...Thank you.”
People called him a saint.
They said he was the Sun’s son.
They claimed the god had incarnated in a small body.
That his smile was sunlight, and his footsteps were destiny.
But wasn’t that no longer human?
‘Why, I wonder?’
He was human.
‘I’m just living the way I want.’
But people always layered meanings onto him.
Giovanni kept walking.
He walked and walked.
Eventually, he reached a familiar village.
The warm sunlight carried the scent of summer, falling across earth and sea.
He realized he was looking at the ocean.
This was the sea.
The end of the land.
The dazzling sea of a seaside town.
“......”
The wind brushed against him, and he turned without thinking.
“......”
The sea.
He looked forward again.
“......”
Still the sea.
“...Did I come too far?”
At some point, he was standing above the surface of the sea.
If he jumped in now, it’d probably feel amazing.
The sun blazed above with no cloud in sight.
The water touching his bare feet was so cool that for a moment it felt like ecstasy.
‘I feel like I’ve fallen into this before.’
If he went in, a small and beautiful mermaid princess would surely welcome him.
“......”
“Teacher.”
A young mermaid reached out her hand.
“Aren’t you hot?”
“Where’s the ground I was standing on?”
“It’s gone now. I ate it all.”
“How old am I?”
“You were over thirty, I think.”
“Aria, what about you?”
“I don’t remember.”
The mermaid who had become the sea withdrew her hand.
Her childlike form vanished like a mirage, and a beautiful woman whispered,
“It’s been too long.”
Her voice was calm and sweet.
“It’s been far too long. We could’ve taken a shorter path.”
“Was it greed?”
“You can call it that.”
The mermaid who had become the master of the sea no longer had the fragile look of a successor.
She was no longer a child.
She was the villain who had to bear everything.
And the vast ocean itself.
“Draw me, teacher.”
“What kind of picture should I paint....”
“Draw me. My brother too, if you like.”
“This sea is truly beautiful.”
“I loved the sea you used to paint for me.”
“Why?”
“Because I could feel life in it....”
The mermaid, now with legs, stepped up above the water.
She was only a little shorter than Giovanni now.
Aria leaned on him lightly and embraced him.
“Did you know? When you hug someone like this, you can hear their heartbeat.”
“I can’t hear it well.”
“That’s right. You’re dead.”
She asked childishly,
“Why did you do it?”
So pitiful.
“You could’ve run away. I’m sure of it.”
“I would’ve been caught while running.”
“Wouldn’t that have been better? Dying together might’ve been less horrible than this.”
“I didn’t think any of it was horrible.”
Even the mermaids’ atrocities.
Separate from the weight of sin, he understood their choices.
That’s just how it ended up.
“As you all said, I was already dead.”
“...Your body’s cold.”
Aria asked, without lifting her head.
“Did you fall into the sea?”
“I did.”
“Wasn’t it cold?”
“It was very cold.”
The salt water seeping into torn flesh and bone wasn’t exactly pleasant.
The shackles around his legs nearly sliced his ankles.
He wanted to thrash in pain, but had no strength, so he drifted like a dead ornamental fish in a tank.
“I didn’t expect Iser to end up entering that place....”
That hurt the most.
“I’m grateful to Iser.”
“Why?”
“Because he killed me.”
“Why didn’t you die before that?”
“I wanted to see you all.”
It had been a long time.
How much had they grown?
What kind of expressions would they have?
Were they starving from not fitting in with humans, or obsessing over strange research again?
Were they struggling with deep wounds?
“I couldn’t even see Iser’s face in the tank.”
His eyes hurt too much to look.
“But I was happy.”
“Did it not hurt when you were being eaten?”
“To be honest, the numbness was stronger, so it was okay.”
He wondered why the Sun had kept him alive.
“It was so I could hear that child’s voice.”
At least that much reached his ears.
Thanks to the mermaids’ ability to speak even in the deep sea.
“That alone makes me feel like I should thank the Sun, doesn’t it?”
“...Teacher, you’re too optimistic....”
“Feels like my chest is getting wet. Just my imagination?”
“It must be.”
Aria cried bitterly.
“Mermaids don’t cry.”
They can’t cry.
“This is just a dream.”
“Can I call you Aria?”
“...I am just her thought.”
“So you're a piece of her then.”
“You really... say such perfect things, don’t you?”
“What is she doing now?”
“She’s probably struggling.”
“Do you want me to stay here?”
“...Haha....”
An awkward laugh.
“......”
“......”
The mermaid couldn’t bring herself to say, Please stay.
“I see.”
And Giovanni, too, never said, I’ll go back.
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