The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 219
The Sun of Earth welcomed the visit of "Gio’s Portrait" with great delight.
“Were you expecting me?”
She answered yes.
From the moment he first revealed himself beneath Earth’s sunlight, the Sun had marveled at the vast vessel he possessed and laughed joyfully, saying she wished to interact with him.
“I came here today to contemplate what stance a god ought to take.”
What stance a god ought to take?
“My father said a god must be nature itself, a bystander.
If the sun were to descend directly to the surface, there would be no hell greater than that, so remaining distant and observing from afar would be more merciful.”
Earth’s Sun said she disagreed with that view.
“And for what reason?”
Because the Sun always reached out to life.
Every living being born beneath sunlight was her child.
Earth’s Sun had defended her children from the grasp of tens of thousands of divine beings that flowed into the world after the Great Calamity.
There had simply been too many situations in which she could only protect them by intervening.
“And so, what stance do you take as a god?”
The birth of life and the love of mercy.
“Mother Sun.”
That was it—he seemed to understand well.
“You truly are the mother of all life.”
Life on Earth comes forth from the belly of the Sun and eventually returns to her embrace.
As my fragment, my other self, it is only right that I shape an environment where it may fully frolic beneath the Sun.
“A kind of nurturing, then.”
Because they are her children.
“Then what do you think of the stance taken by my father, the Sun?
He only ever gazed at his children with affection, never embracing them.
He would sometimes weave the framework of fate, only to release it from his hands.”
That too may be a form of love.
“You believe so?”
Because if he were to hold them in his hands, they would burn.
He could not carelessly caress them.
“But you are reaching out your hand.”
That is why she, as the Sun, had to give up many things.
Fearing that they might tremble before her vast body, she hid herself.
Worried they would turn to ash from a single breath, she held it in.
Afraid their brains would melt from her gaze, she kept her eyelids shut and held the Earth in her arms.
“That must be uncomfortable.”
It was something she could endure because she loved.
“Love... what a sweet word.
Then did my father, the Sun, refuse to hold his children, including Giovanni, in his arms?”
Embracing them is not the only form of love.
Just their existence may have been too radiant, too overwhelming—he couldn’t bear to touch them.
Perhaps he loved those pure humans untouched by the Sun’s hand.
“I understand.”
The stance of a god is as diverse as the divinity itself.
So love like that, O great mystery.
***
“...So we did talk, after all.”
“I heard one of the priests in the Church of the Sun went mad.”
“I object.”
“I’m not saying it was your fault.”
It was just a bit interesting, that’s all.
“May I one day have the honor of observing you two speak?”
“I refuse. It’s terribly embarrassing.”
“That’s really unfortunate...”
At any rate, he understood what Gio had been agonizing over.
“Hm. What about this?”
“Can you offer another form of help?”
“You have another divine friend, don’t you?”
“Ah.”
He was referring to the god of death.
“Shall I take you to him?”
“Thank you.”
Gio did not refuse.
***
“Have you come to visit?”
Gio recognized the death priest who came to greet him.
“You guided me the last time, didn’t you?”
“It is an honor that you remember.”
“Please guide me again to your father.”
“That too is an honor.”
And naturally, the priest took out a small envelope.
“A gift of gratitude.”
“...What kind of gift?”
“I’m glad you’re treating me more comfortably than last time.”
“It’s all thanks to the advice given to me by the bishop... ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) though it may be more than I deserve.”
“I see. Then there’s someone else who should receive this gift.”
What Gio handed over was Basram tea.
“It’s a tea with the roasted flavor and aroma of grains.
I heard that the death priests enjoy tea, so I brought this with me.
It holds the warmth of gentle sunlight—please enjoy it when you are weary.”
“Would it be alright to share this with the believers?”
“I’m curious—what would you use it for?”
“This place is often visited by believers with weakened bodies.”
“Is it because of the Temple of Death?”
“Yes, and so...”
Though the death priests revered the end of life as a glorious blessing, they did not deny the happiness of life either.
They also played the role of ensuring that the fleeting lives of mere humans could end in a way that was precious and brilliant.
“If you permit it, I’d like to offer it to those who suffer in life.”
If life was not happy, only those who twisted death would increase.
“May I have your permission?”
“Of course, my kind friend.”
“...Thank you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You’re quite the cheerful one.”
Though his face remained stiff, the priest was certainly more comfortable around Gio than before.
Even when Gio casually referred to him as a friend, he didn’t seem to mind—it even appeared to please him.
Gio felt gratitude for that reaction.
It was truly heartwarming.
“Do the death priests not enjoy play?”
“There are as many deaths as there are lives.
So naturally, there’s a lot to be done.”
“Then I suppose playing together would be difficult.”
“If you wish it, I’ll try to make time...”
“I’m not forcing you.”
Again, the priest lifted a round lantern shaped like a bell and walked into the dark temple with a white cloth covering his eyes.
In the shallow water spread over the floor, Gio could sense the god of death—like a river flowing through.
Soon a large door appeared, and the priest stepped aside as the bishop, Eunyeong, came out.
“It’s an honor to meet you again.”
“The honor is mine.”
“Now, my father awaits—this way...”
Before they could go any deeper, Death suddenly stuck his head out.
“My friend.”
“Oh.”
At that, Eunyeong motioned to the guiding priest.
“...You’ve done well. You may now step back—these two elders shall speak.”
“...Yes, Bishop.”
Death’s active approach seemed unfamiliar.
Both of them were slightly flustered but moved diligently.
The priest quietly withdrew.
Eunyeong closed the door to the Room of Death and tried to retreat into the darkness.
But Gio called out to her.
“Won’t you join us?”
“...Would someone as insignificant as I be permitted to sit in that presence?”
“I came here today to speak.
To seek opinions.
The more mouths, the better.”
“If that’s the case, then I—Eunyeong—will humbly take a seat.”
Perhaps because she had lived close to the god’s physical form, Eunyeong remained composed even between two divine beings.
Feeling that the setting was now appropriate, Gio began to speak lightly.
“It’s been a while.”
“I see we’ve grown distant, haven’t we?”
“Out of guilt, I brought something to share.”
“Something to share, you say.”
Death chuckled.
“Have you kept your promise?”
“I brought some jeon.”
Gio lifted the lunchbox wrapped in black silk.
“Would you join us, Miss Eunyeong?”
“...Did you make it yourself?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I... don’t know if I can still serve Death after eating this.”
“It’s not like you’ll live forever from eating it.”
“......”
“Why doesn’t anyone ever believe me?”
Joo-Hyun didn’t. Yoo Seong-Woon didn’t.
Only the passersby who met him in portrait form simply accepted it.
If he gave food, wasn’t it just... ‘Wow, food!’ and then you eat it?
“I think it’ll be delicious.”
“I have no doubt about that, Sergio Hunter.”
“I really think it’s tasty...”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“It’s not some bizarre potion. It’s just food.”
“......”
“Funny how you never have anything to say at times like this.”
“...Mmm...”
Eunyeong soon nodded.
“If you promise me I’ll remain human, I’ll eat it with joy.”
“I promise.”
“That was rather quick.”
“I have no intention of turning you into anything non-human.”
“And it has no such effect?”
“Of course not.”
“In that case...”
She looked up at her father.
“...Will you eat?”
“......”
Death looked troubled.
“...It does look delicious.”
“...Oh, does it?”
Eunyeong was surprised.
“I didn’t think Father could feel appetite.”
“Nor did I.”
For a divine being to eat was nearly impossible.
Even if Death had a physical form, it was no easy task.
Divinity didn’t possess the concept of appetite.
But Death stared at the jeon laid out neatly in the abalone-decorated box.
“...My daughter...”
“Yes, Father. I’m listening.”
“...I do not wish to burden you, but I fear ruining this graceful gift.
Please, hand me that yellow one.”
“...Ah, the yellow one. You mean the pollack jeon?”
“Yes, that one. Its aroma is delightful.”
Even with a physical form, it was hard for such a vast, nature-like being to properly pick up “food.”
Unfamiliar with such humble joys, the god hesitated and asked his daughter for help.
Eunyeong smiled gently.
“This must be a child’s joy.
I never imagined a day would come where I would feed my father.
I have one more thing to thank Sergio Hunter for.”
“Please, speak comfortably.”
“Hm, shall I?”
Joyfully, she picked up the golden pollack jeon.
“Here... Father, how would you like to eat it?”
“......”
Swoooosh—
From the darkness, a massive “face” descended.
The Death who always dwelled in the shadows of the vast chamber opened his mouth—thin and rough like gnarled bark.
Eunyeong, recognizing that gap as his “mouth,” placed the jeon inside.
The “face” did not ascend back into the darkness—it remained there.
“......”
“...How is it, Father?”
“It is delicious.”
“Oh my...”
Eunyeong burst into laughter.
“Truly astounding.”
She felt immense joy.
Though she had served Death as her father, offering him familial love and reverence, she never imagined she could feel this kind of simple, everyday “family” happiness.
“Would you like something else? There’s vegetable jeon, oyster jeon, pumpkin jeon...”
“Give me the bumpy one.”
“You mean the vegetable jeon. Yes, right here.”
Seeing the tender moment between father and daughter, Gio smiled contentedly.
“How lovely this is.”
“Fufu... All thanks to Sergio Hunter bringing us this gift.”
“I’m happy it suited your taste.”
After all, people who enjoyed his cooking were the most beautiful.
“Should’ve made a bigger batch.”
“No, it’s more than enough.”
“But your body’s so big...”
“It’s enough.”
What Gio had brought was ultimately a “something” in the form of food.
More than size, it was the amount of mystery packed within that mattered.
And Death was savoring the joy of gourmet delight.
After a while, even Eunyeong, urged on by the two divine beings, took a bite of jeon.
“......”
“How is it?”
“...It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“To receive such praise...”
“No, it’s not praise. It’s just...”
Eunyeong, unusually, blushed and her eyes sparkled.
“...It’s truly delicious.”
“I’m glad.”
Death also laughed, swept up in his daughter’s joy.
His laughter filled the Room of Death.
Eunyeong, embarrassed by his reaction, carefully took another piece.
“I know it might be dangerous...”
“It’s not dangerous. I object.”
“Still... I can’t stop using my chopsticks.”
She was following the exact path Yoo Seong-Woon and Joo-Hyun once walked.
Afraid that this mass of mystery would change her, yet unable to resist its blissful taste.
And then Gio even brought out alcohol.
“Jeon calls for some drink, doesn’t it?”
“Heavens...”
Eunyeong exclaimed in joy.
“The aroma is amazing. What kind of alcohol is it?”
“Makgeolli brewed from fruit, rice, and flowers.”
“Exquisite...”
Time passed joyfully.
“......”
“......”
Death and Eunyeong realized something.
“...You...”
“Please speak.”
“Are you... trying to turn me into a pig...?”
“How did you know...?”
“...Oh...”
It was the same kind of realization Sanarae once had.
‘...Hansel and Gretel...’
Eunyeong thought that to herself.
She didn’t really believe this divine being would devour her like a witch... but still.
It was so good, so overwhelming, it felt slightly unfair.
And finally, Gio spoke his true purpose.
“What is a god?”
“A god... is it necessary?”
“I think I need to know... to prepare.”
“What kind of preparation?”
“A preparation about my own existence.”
He wanted to define everything about himself.
“Will you help me?”
“Of course...”
Death gladly agreed.
For the first time, he had experienced “true flavor”—and it was worth any price.
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