The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 212
The familiar yet new monster that Yoo Seong-Woon encountered wasn’t limited to the “Four-Legged Rainforest Underground.”
Clatter.
“...What is that?”
“...A bird...?”
At some point, this monster began appearing sporadically across multiple dungeons.
“No, is it... water?”
It was a living mass of water in the shape of a bird.
Lacking vocal cords, it produced no cries, but it emitted faint sounds using the plants or minerals within its transparent body—usually ripe fruit, fallen leaves, or gemstones.
“What the hell, if it’s just water, can’t we drink it?”
“You don’t even know what kind of creature it is. You shouldn’t just mess with it.”
“Hey, hold on. What if it’s like a living elixir or something?”
“No, wait—”
Chomp.
“.......”
“...Huh?”
The hunter saw their teammate trapped inside the transparent body. Their eyes met. The teammate, only just realizing where they were, opened their mouth like they wanted to scream—but not even a single air bubble emerged.
Then, in an instant, they dissolved.
“...Hu—Huaaagh!!!”
Information about this bizarre monster quickly spread among the hunters.
The victims were usually humans harboring ill intent. Even if the malice wasn’t aimed directly at the monster, harboring impure thoughts was enough to provoke an attack. Those who heard about this peculiar creature felt a strange familiarity.
“...Isn’t that the Black Cloak?”
“Oh yeah, that’s it. I just solved that déjà vu.”
“No wonder it felt familiar. It was the Black Cloak...”
Some of the hunters who had participated in the earlier raid of the “Four-Legged Rainforest Underground” were able to make additional guesses.
“A bird made of water?”
“Looks kind of like that contracted beast Hunter Sergio travels with.”
“Oh, right. That one called Honey... that water-bird thing, yeah?”
“It looks a little different, but even accounting for that, it really does have a lot of similarities.”
“Thought he might’ve just tamed one from some remote dungeon, but turns out it was a whole flock.”
It wasn’t that uncommon for tamers to raise mysterious monsters. Some dungeons could only be visited once, and tamers often captured monsters from such places.
And especially in a world where even public hunters don’t reveal much about themselves, personal privacy had only intensified. Thanks to the Collector’s Guild’s influence, Hunter Sergio’s contracted beast hadn’t become widely known—but those who’d actually raided with him were a different story.
Even without having seen it directly, they realized—through information posted on the association forums—that the rumored creature bore a striking resemblance to Hunter Sergio’s companion.
“So, has anyone confirmed the species name of this monster? I think Hunter Sergio just called it a ‘water-bird’...”
“Appraiser said it’s officially just ‘water-bird.’”
“Wow, what a half-assed name. I thought that was just a nickname since it’s made of water.”
“Well, it is a bird that lives in water, so maybe it’s not that far off...”
“Anyway, how did he tame it? Judging by its behavior, is it one of the monsters native to the Black Cloak’s dungeon?”
Though the traits matched, other opinions were brought up as well.
“Could be they’re just compatible and hang out together. You know how there are some monsters that don’t have a ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) fixed habitat but are always found in places with similar energy...”
“Yeah, those monsters do exist.”
What the gardener called “Children of the Origin,” hunters referred to by another name.
“Share Monsters, huh.”
This term referred to monsters that “borrow other dungeons,” and while technically different from “Children of the Origin,” the similarities made them difficult to distinguish without a gardener’s insight.
“It’s not uncommon for monsters with shared traits to borrow dungeons.”
“True, this might be a newly emerged Share Monster.”
A dungeon, simply put, is another dimension. Even without a gateway to Earth, monsters can enter one another’s realms, resulting in strange new arrivals. So it wasn’t unheard of for unfamiliar monsters to just appear out of nowhere.
And as always with new monsters, there were... incidents.
“...Uh, what’s that guy doing?”
“Wh-Where’s that idiot going? Hey! HEY!!”
“There—There’s a tree, there’s a tree...”
“What the hell is wrong with him? Stop him! He’s about to fall in!!”
This living water mesmerized people.
“Beautiful...”
They would often blend into natural scenes where flowers and trees blossomed gently.
Sometimes they gathered to form a puddle beneath a tree, or perched on branches in rainy forests, gazing down at people.
Unless there were odd gemstones or fruits among them, a group of water-birds would be indistinguishable from an ordinary puddle.
But at night, things changed.
“Look, there’s life glowing in there.”
They glowed red, blue, and at rare moments, a mesmerizing, blinding golden light that people couldn’t look away from.
Still, calling it “mesmerizing” might be exaggerating—after all, a few tiny water creatures barely formed a puddle, and unless they clustered deep, it was just a shallow stream.
However...
“There! That’s a whole lake...!!”
“Get him!!”
...that wasn’t always the case.
SPLASH!!
Massive numbers of water-birds, impossible to count, gathered in a pit, a lake, or even an existing sea.
In those depths, their glow resembled that of living spirits—almost indistinguishable from water ghosts.
But once again, a person’s survival depended on their morality.
Those who lived good or ordinary lives might be pulled under—but would regain their senses in time.
Smack! Whack!!
“Ow!!”
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!!!
The water-birds would frantically peck at them, as if to say, “Wake up, dumbass!” They were made of water, yet delivered a surprisingly painful sting.
“Wh-What the hell just happened!?”
“You were about to fall into the water-bird lake!!”
“M-Me!?”
But if someone was evil or sinister, they would simply drown.
The water-birds didn’t bite or swallow them, but simply ignored them—as if to say, “So what if a wicked human drowns?”
Seeing that behavior, people nodded.
“They’re definitely on the Black Cloak’s side.”
“They really do look like him...”
And of course, Yoo Seong-Woon was hearing all of this.
***
“I hear your kids are showing up a lot these days.”
During a long-overdue hallway meeting, Yoo Seong-Woon smiled faintly.
“Some are calling them Black Cloak’s angels.”
“I’ve never painted an angel.”
“Hmm... These days, angels are often likened to divine servants. Probably that kind of meaning. Though I doubt you created them with that in mind...”
Could a being of Origin intend to create children?
Would a tree think before blooming?
Unlike divinity, which has intent and is called fate or nature, Gio likely created life simply by existing.
“That’s the truly terrifying part.”
He was a being who could create life as easily as breathing.
“Do you like the piece you created this time?”
“There’s no reason to paint something I don’t like.”
“As expected...”
Yoo Seong-Woon glanced at the serene-faced Joo-Hyun and the obscured face of Gio.
...So they’ve already talked, I take it.
The “white frame” that had stirred such quiet ripples—perhaps it was what Gio had once called a tombstone. But Joo-Hyun looked no different than usual.
Their eyes met.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“...Nothing.”
If there’s no problem, there’s no need to meddle.
Joo-Hyun isn’t the type to let her own greed cause a disaster.
Yoo Seong-Woon wasn’t especially interested in the white frame either. It was another of Gio’s creations. Some interest, yes—but not enough to be tempted.
He already carried within himself a mystery large enough to rival purgatory.
“...We finally meet again, and there’s no juicy topic to talk about. Speaking of which, do you all know what Cha I-Sol’s been up to? I checked, just in case—can I share it?”
“Go ahead.”
“Apparently, she got seriously scolded by Iru Da.”
“Oh... she got scolded, huh...”
“She apparently admitted that she wasn’t kidnapped by the mermaid but went into the frame on her own. Naturally, Iru Da wasn’t thrilled that her partner dove into danger without a word.”
Cha I-Sol, as always, was good at pretending otherwise, and even wrote an apology. She confessed the truth only to Priest Kang Seodam, who knew Gio’s identity.
“Separate from that, she apparently accomplished something too.”
“Accomplished?”
“She did well in this latest raid.”
At that, Gio nodded.
“She was instrumental in handling Iser. My father specifically sent her into that dungeon to help her properly master the power of the sun.”
He likely also wanted her to gain experience in “killing beings capable of communication.” From a divine standpoint, there was no better opportunity. The one being killed had already accepted their fate—lessening the psychological burden.
“I think he hopes Cha I-Sol will become an exceptional solar priest.”
“Oh... so that’s what’s worrying you.”
“Kids are exhausting enough just by being alive.”
“Gio really does seem to understand kids well.”
“I was a high school teacher, after all.”
“Isn’t 17 a little too old to still be called a kid...?”
Modern society had changed. Even fifteen was now considered grown.
“Still, it’s a relief that Cha I-Sol didn’t seem too traumatized.”
“Well, she wasn’t alone in that raid. I heard Priest Kang Seodam helped her face Iser. It wasn’t all on her.”
“No, it was a heavy situation.”
“...You’re blunt.”
Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.
“...Still, I agree it’s good she wasn’t shaken. She seemed oddly friendly with Iser—calling him ‘Eunha’ and all.”
To kill someone you once considered a friend—it could have destroyed her emotionally. Yet she remained cheerful.
Gio spoke.
“She seemed to understand that it was a necessary process for Iser. Cha I-Sol and I are alike in many ways. We both treat death as just another state—not something unbearably weighty.”
“...You realize how creepy that sounds, right?”
Yoo Seong-Woon gave an awkward laugh.
“You think she’ll turn out like you?”
“She’s very different. Our thought structures might be similar, but her approach to life and people is nothing like mine. She’s extremely sociable.”
“She does seem that way.”
He scratched his chin.
“That gift you gave Iru Da...”
“Yes. You mean the Bai Bamnil Flower Tea?”
“Did you give that to her on purpose?”
Yoo Seong-Woon and Joo-Hyun shared information. That’s how they knew Gio had once gifted Iru Da tea during a visit to the Church of the Sun.
‘And thanks to that, she played a major role in this latest raid.’
She had offered the tea, under Seodam’s supervision, to the goddess of the sun. Whatever divine emotions may be, it must have pleased her—because Iru Da had shown remarkable growth in using sun powers since then.
‘And with that strength, she helped kill the mermaid Aria.’
Gio answered at last.
“I simply thought it might be of use.”
“Really?”
Still as unsentimental as ever.
“Would he react like this if I died, too?”
The question passed through his mind with a smile.
“You really are too composed. Are you sure you’re okay with all this? Out of all the other Gios, wasn’t Giovanni the one you had the deepest connection with?”
“...That’s a mean-spirited question.”
Gio, as always, responded in a flat, mechanical tone.
“But I’m truly fine. As I said before, I’ve already sorted out my feelings.”
“...Hold up.”
“Yes?”
“You said that before too, but now it feels off. You said ‘you sorted it out your own way,’ right?”
“Yes.”
“...Hmm...”
For a second, Yoo Seong-Woon had a strange thought—“Why does this sound like the black-suits from the City of Void?”—and then he realized what he hadn’t before.
“...Did you do something? Like... put them inside the white frame?”
“They’re not suited to be residents of a diary.”
“Then... resurrected them?”
“Dead is dead. It cannot be undone—and it shouldn’t be.”
“That’s... shockingly reasonable.”
“I did, however, collect their melted remains.”
“...What?”
Yoo Seong-Woon turned to Joo-Hyun.
“Were there even mermaid corpses left?”
“...No? Both of them melted into water...”
Gio nodded.
“Mermaids are born in the sea, and return to it in death. That was likely part of the process.”
“Then how did you collect the remains?”
“They were already residents I had taken in.”
“Residents?”
“Residents of my palette.”
“...Am I the only one getting a bad feeling from this?”
“You needn’t worry about anything, Miss Joo-Hyun.”
As always, the portrait said it without emotion.
“The mermaids are dead. They can no longer harm anyone.”
“......”
After a long pause, Joo-Hyun responded.
“...I see!”
“That is correct.”
“But could you maybe explain it more clearly and thoroughly next time?”
These damn mystical beings really needed to attend public speaking classes.
Visit freewe𝑏no(v)el.𝘤𝑜𝓂 for the best novel reading experi𝒆nce
