The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 228
Joo-Hyun, after hearing the story, made a strange expression and spoke.
“...Maybe if you softened your tone a little, it wouldn't be so bad?”
“My tone has always been like this. What can I do?”
“Exactly. That... is something you should do something about.”
That was something Joo-Hyun always said.
“These damned holy beings really need to attend a speech academy.”
“I consider myself fairly well-spoken, actually.”
“That’s not the issue and you know it. When you speak, Mister Gio, there's always something vague and ominous about it. Whether your intentions are good or bad, it feels... unsettling.”
“Hmm, and as Giovanni?”
“You’re a bit better as Giovanni, but still not what I’d call normal or clear. All three of your selves—Gio, Sergio, and Giovanni—your tone always has this massive distance to it.”
As Sergio, he felt like an ominous evil spirit clumsily mimicking a human. As Giovanni, he came across as an inherently different, sacred being. And as for Argio—it didn’t even need to be said.
“No need to say it, huh.”
“I refrained because I thought you’d pretend to be hurt.”
Argio really did seem like a wicked god.
‘Even I was startled the first time I met him.’
It wasn’t the same as Sergio’s ominousness, which emerged from an uncanny silence. Argio’s sweet voice burrowed into the ears and brain like a devil’s. His golden eyes, which held Gio within, were those of a predator targeting prey. It made her instinctively take a step back.
‘A classic image of an evil god who chases only self-centered pleasures...’
She could understand how the family of animals inside the frame must have felt.
“Even just speaking like this would get you halfway there. The reason they can’t easily shake their fear is because you speak too much like an evil god. Just... try to adjust your tone a little.”
“It’s not ‘like an evil god.’ I am an evil god.”
And that wasn’t something he could help.
“This is beyond my control.”
“I don’t get it. Why not?”
“I’m filtered. I guess you could call it... filtering.”
“...?”
Filtering?
“What do you mean, filtering? Are you saying your tone and behavior are forcibly corrected? Is that why you can’t help but talk like that, even in front of those poor animal friends?”
“You understood correctly.”
“But why?”
“It’s the same reason the Black Cloak seen through the portrait is always so stiff and ominous. It took me a while to recognize that difference myself.”
It was something he realized while dealing with the Collector’s Guild staff.
“Because I’m a portrait, it seems that unless I undergo a certain kind of ‘management,’ there are issues with my tone, atmosphere—many things. That was true no matter which Gio I appeared as.”
When filtered through the ‘Portrait of Gio,’ the central frame, even things like tone and atmosphere became more refined—let alone the matter of ‘class’ or whatever nonsense.
Though it still left plenty to be called ‘urban legend-worthy,’ it was better than nothing.
“But if I move directly from this hut or speak while trapped inside the frame, it’s a different story. I become a more typical, rigid ‘Gio.’ I can’t even properly feel the dissonance myself.”
“So that’s why you call it filtering...”
It was absurd.
“Why does something like that happen?”
“Because I’m a portrait?”
“Can’t you do something about that?”
“I don’t think it’s going to be easy.”
“Unbelievable.”
Joo-Hyun started to feel sorry for Gio.
‘...It really does seem to be related to his identity as a portrait, which makes it even sadder.’
That’s what a portrait is, after all. Fundamentally, a picture meant to capture someone’s most ideal moment.
In other words, it was her theory that Gio was ‘filtered’ like this because he’d been taxidermied into a fixed state of appearance or perception at some moment in time.
“......”
And at the same time, it made things difficult.
“Then it really will be hard.”
“It would seem so.”
“Hmm, couldn’t you just... be a merciful ruler?”
“An evil god?”
“At the very least, I don’t think you can be a merciful friend to them. You want an equal relationship, but no matter how much their fear fades, they’ll still revere you.”
“I’ll leave that as one of the joys of the future.”
Gio, once chastised by friends for his impatience, had decided after some reflection to take things slowly.
Joo-Hyun and Yoo Seong-Woon were particularly thoughtful people, burdened with the need to define relationships and existence. But Gio had no intention of forcing such thoughts on his animal friends.
If it was fun, that was enough—for him and for them.
“A servant who’s also a friend, a friend who’s also family—why not?”
“See? You’re secretly greedy, Mister Gio.”
“It’s natural to want to have everything if you can.”
Especially with Argio.
“......”
“You look like you have something to say.”
“That’s dopamine addiction.”
“Ahem. Quiet.”
How dare she reduce sacred social interaction to mere chemical secretion?
***
There were once those who were called heroes.
All the beasts of the world had become monsters, attacking everything human. People were forced to live amidst starvation and chaos, groaning beneath a plague that devoured both flesh and soul. In desperation, they pleaded to the strongest among them.
“Please, slay those savage beasts.”
“Oh, heroes blessed by the gods...”
“Please—we beg you. End this war.”
There were countless sacrifices.
Though praised with the noble title of heroes, they were only human. They screamed in pain. They had nightmares in fear. It was not uncommon for conflict among heroes to escalate into bloodshed.
More than anything, they learned the truth.
“...This is real?”
“It’s just another trick by the Demon King to fool us. Don’t be deceived!”
“But... you know it too. This isn’t a fabrication.”
The evil god they believed they had fought turned out to be a monster born from humanity’s ignorance and selfishness. It was all humanity’s doing. Because they didn’t recognize a saint as a saint, because they burned the forest not knowing it was their last chance—this disaster had begun.
“What are we supposed to do...?”
“I... I can’t accept this.”
The heroes fell into confusion.
“Then what does it mean to be a hero?”
They were just people who had made it this far out of sheer goodness.
They had come to save the world, their families, their friends. Though driven to the edge, they still had the reason to distinguish right from wrong.
“This doesn’t make sense. We were the ones at fault from the beginning. Even the beasts speaking human language stemmed from our greed... and it’s still the same now.”
“Why did we come this far? To protect the same humans who pushed us into death? We bled and suffered for this? Why?”
“It’s awful. Truly awful. I don’t think I can fight anymore. If we must keep repeating these filthy sins just to live, then the world would be better off crumbling.”
And yet, there were those who grit their teeth.
“You call that an excuse? We came this far—what does the wrongdoing of people long dead have to do with us?”
“Have you forgotten our purpose? We endured all that to make the world better than it was. Yes, the past humans sinned. But how can you ignore the far greater sins of the fallen saint?”
“Even if sin is required to survive, it can be limited to the few. Let the guilty and we who fight carry the burden. Innocents shouldn’t have to die.”
It was a long conflict, but the conclusion was the same.
“......”
“...We seal the evil god. Everything else comes afterward.”
The immediate disaster had to be stopped.
“We all came here because we had something we wanted to protect—family, friends, lovers. Even after learning the dirty truth, we’re still here... in the end, for ourselves.”
And so, the heroes succeeded in sealing the evil god Argio.
“...Something’s wrong.”
“The beasts’ curse hasn’t ended.”
“The plague is still spreading...!”
Someone cried out.
“That’s obvious! Humanity caused all this in the first place!!”
The true cause lay in the world’s primal origin. The second was burning the saint who held that horror at bay. The final cause was humanity’s refusal to distinguish beginning from process, and dumping [N O V E L I G H T] all blame onto the evil god.
“But, but...! Even if we created the fallen saint, Argio still caused many disasters! He incited beasts and led massacres! You all know that!”
“That doesn’t matter! Look properly at the relics’ stories! Argio wasn’t the origin—he was added to the process! Sealing him won’t stop a disaster we started!”
“Then why did we suffer, bleed, and endure nightmares?!”
Their grief exploded into rage.
Argio, the god of pain and fury, had been sealed—yet even at his tomb, the heroes turned on each other.
What could be more disastrous?
“......”
“......”
And still, the evil god was sealed.
“...Let’s return to the village.”
“We need to report to the court.”
“At least the massacres caused by the evil god will stop.”
“We’ve accomplished that much.”
Many disasters remained, countless tasks left unfinished—but they had sealed Argio, the one behind the slaughters. That alone should’ve made the world a little easier to live in.
But even that turned out differently.
“Argio appeared in the village of Zibia!”
“What?! But we sealed the evil god!”
“They say a massive massacre took place!”
“No way...!”
All those massacres—
“......”
“We have to go now—maybe the seal broke!”
“I was the one who led the sealing spell.”
“But still—!”
“If it had broken, I’d know.”
The massacres and wars they had blamed on Argio—most had actually been started by humans themselves, using the ‘evil god’ as an excuse for their rage and greed. Perhaps not all, but many.
“It’s all meaningless now.”
The heroes were hollowed out.
“If we’d known this, we wouldn’t have sealed him. We suffered so much to do it. Should’ve just let him burn the world.”
“Don’t say that. Argio was behind many of the horrors. We prevented something far worse.”
“I... I don’t know anymore.”
And the people’s fury turned on the heroes.
“You said you sealed the evil god!”
“They lied! They were deceived by him!”
“No, they must be his followers. Kill them all!!”
Fear, too, turned against them.
“It’s over—they’ll come kill us!”
“I always thought they were strange. That power—how can it be human?”
“They must be monsters too! Kill them first before we all die!!”
Some heroes resisted, but were killed. They were human, after all. When betrayed by those they sought to protect, they broke.
Most chose to flee. They hid, pretending they’d never been heroes. They wandered, always pursued.
“......”
But they were all caught.
“...Ha...”
Except one.
Thanks to hiding in the tomb of the evil god. But he had once been a famous hero—so he too was discovered. Suspected of being a servant of the evil god, a subjugation force came for him.
“So you were here after all, vile follower of the evil god...!”
“Kill him! He’ll become a seed of evil!”
“He’s a sower of heresy and lies!!”
It should’ve been his last chance to die.
“...No, this is perfect.”
“Chief Elder...! Are you going to spare him?”
“He has use. Bring all the materials we secured earlier.”
“Surely not...”
“Here, we will write a new history.”
He and the ‘materials’ were made into pillars of the ‘new world.’
“With these monstrous ones, it may not be impossible to steal divine power...”
The man was sealed into a coffin shaped like a goddess. He wasn’t the only one. Surrounded by blades and tendrils that tore at flesh and blood, he could no longer think clearly.
“GAAAAAAHHH! AAAAAAAAAGH!! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”
“You still have the strength to scream? Wonderful. This time we might really succeed.”
“GRAAAAAAAAAAH!!”
“Seal it tight. So it never escapes, even after countless years.”
“Please... please stop...!!”
“From now on... we will kill God. And build a new paradise.”
“Ghh...! Nnggh...”
Through pain and hatred, the man thought:
‘In the end... everything will fail.’
The world was a mess from the beginning to the end. Even the lives that composed it were chaos. Whatever they meant to build using the materials—the ‘heroes’—it would never succeed.
And then darkness came.
“......”
Time passed.
“......”
And kept passing.
“...Nggh...”
...Why can’t I die?
Trapped in a crown of thorns, the man wept tears of blood.
***
He finally called for the evil god.
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