Chapter 827
Episode 208. The Balmel Alliance Does What It Must (4)
As the Red Owl finished its spatial leap, the scene that unfolded was a beach bathed in the light of the Milky Way. The Kingdom of Shcheron—an area Jin had visited long ago after becoming a rider, to meet Olmango’s contractor.
“Ugh… Looks like there’s nothing left to throw up now. Damn it, Luet! How dare you humiliate me like that…?”
“I was just busy but still put some effort into drawing you, so don’t be so harsh, Murakan.”
“Next time I visit the Garden of Swords, I won’t let you off the hook… seriously.”
Murakan, his face pale, stared at the tavern nestled by the shore. A warm orange glow softly illuminated the surroundings. This was the tavern where Olmango’s contractor, Jogebi, worked.
And now, not only Olmango but also Keitam, Ox, and Telpen had taken up residence there. This tavern was the safe zone they had requested to meet Jin.
Jin and Murakan gazed at the tavern, briefly lost in memories.
They recalled the first time they all took a vacation together with their Tikan comrades, and the moment they opened Temar’s second tomb, sealed inside a giant clam beneath the sea, where they met Sara.
“Oh, Lord Jin!”
[Jin?]
[It’s Jin!]
Jogebi, Olmango’s contractor, along with Ox—the god of frames—and Telpen—the god of pencils—greeted Jin. The three had been in the middle of a card game.
“Long time no see. How have you gods been?”
“Hello there.”
[M-Murakan!?]
[Murakan, is that you!?]
“Ah, stop being so surprised when you see me! I’m not the reckless fool I used to be.”
“Hmm, I see.”
“I heard you’ve almost regained your old strength. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Ox and Telpen smiled sheepishly, and Jin looked at the two gods with curiosity.
‘Their divine power is so low that they can manifest freely in the mortal realm without a contractor…’
Ox and Telpen were truly minor gods. Some scholars even classified them not as gods but as spirits or special creatures.
‘I wonder if they, like Olmango, possess some unique abilities.’
Just then, Jogebi rolled his eyes and called out to Olmango.
[Jin! It’s you! Did you bring the cookie—the crisp, tangy Litra cookie…?]
“I heard about Keitam from the Sword King’s Garden, so I didn’t prepare any, Olmango. But Tikan must have been sending plenty of cookies regularly.”
[Ugh… Ever since these guys arrived, the cookies never last. With three mouths to feed, we need three times as many. So I’ve been living on seafood again.]
“That clam god is always whining about cookies. I prefer spiritual energy myself.”
[Your god probably doesn’t like spiritual energy much, Murakan. Solderet probably wants to consume something else too.]
“Let’s just say that’s true. Anyway, I have some business with that so-called god of painters, so let’s wrap this up quickly. I’m busy. Come to think of it, I don’t see him around.”
[Keitam is in the other room, working with his contractor.]
Keitam was the only one among the new gods here who had a contractor.
“Working? What kind of work?”
[What else would a god of painters be doing but painting? So wait a moment. Don’t disturb them while they’re working…]
Before Olmango could finish, Murakan flung open the door. Inside, the walls were plastered with canvases and paintings, and in the middle, a man and the incarnated Keitam were both clutching their heads in frustration.
“Arrgh! What the hell are you doing? I told you not to disturb me while I’m working! I begged you!”
[Who’s this? What kind of scoundrel did this? You must be crazy to want to die. Aren’t you afraid of incurring the wrath of a god… M-Murakan? Hey, Olmango, is this guy really Murakan?]
“…Lord Jin?”
The man and Keitam’s expression softened the moment they saw the two.
“Oh, Lord Jin. If you’d told me beforehand, I would have stepped out to wait. Sorry for the strange scene. I get a bit sensitive when I’m working, and I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just in the middle of painting the Garden of Swords.”
The man was Billy, Keitam’s contractor.
“P-pleased to meet you. Murakan, I am Keitam, god of painters. You probably don’t know me well, but I was quite close to Solderet… I’m the god who granted his important request. So please don’t be mad about me shouting in surprise.”
“Looks like you were really focused. Sorry for barging in. I was just eager to get home.”
“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m the one who called you and Jin here. I should be the one apologizing for not welcoming you properly. But damn it! Do you know how hard it’s been? Those blasted Ziplers keep pestering me with some demon stone nonsense, no new works come out, and my masterpiece suddenly went haywire like it caught a plague. Do you know how that feels!?”
“K-Keitam, please calm down.”
“Let go, Billy! If I kill this guy today, I’ll die too!”
Murakan was taken aback by the raw emotion.
“Oh, that’s more like it. Whether a god is strong or weak, they should have some fire in them. If you’re still upset after knowing who I am, here—cold water.” (Olmango handed it over.) “Good, drink it all down.”
[Ah! Now my mind’s clearing up. Understand, Murakan, I get a bit touchy when I’m like this.]
“That’s understandable. I’ve seen gods of the arts act like that before. So, what did you want with me and the kid?”
[It’s about my masterpiece.]
“Masterpiece?”
“Yes. The work I poured everything into. So perfect that even I, the god of painters, can never recreate it.”
Tears welled up in Keitam’s eyes. Murakan instinctively patted his shoulder.
Meanwhile, Jin couldn’t take his eyes off the walls, covered with countless paintings.
He was overwhelmed by their indescribable beauty, momentarily dazed. Landscapes, portraits, even abstract doodles—everywhere he looked, his eyes were opened and his mind sharpened. No one but a god of painters and his contractor could have created such works.
“All these paintings look like masterpieces, Keitam.”
[Compared to that child, these are nothing but amateurish.]
“What kind of work is it?”
[This one.]
Keitam pointed to the canvas he had been working on with Billy—a blackened board that looked like it had just been painted over in black.
Having seen his skill, Jin felt there was something profound hidden beneath the black surface.
“Isn’t it just painted black?”
[To your eyes, yes. But this isn’t just a painting—it’s a space.]
“A space?”
“Yes, Murakan. The space depicted on this canvas can only be recognized by Billy and me. Only I can enter, modify, and control it… or at least, I could.]
“Explain it in a way I can understand.”
[This painting is what’s called a pocket dimension, commissioned by Solderet.]
“Are you saying it’s Temar’s tomb?”
“Yes. More precisely, it was a painting used as Temar’s tomb. Solderet moved Temar from here to another place not long after. And this work became entirely mine.]
Murakan had once felt a twinge of resentment when he learned from Pikon and Olmango that Solderet had made arrangements without telling him.
But not now. He believed that as they approached the truth with Jin, the day would come when they would understand Solderet’s intentions.
“…Please continue.”
[Solderet didn’t tell me much. Unlike with Olmango, there was no prophecy about a promised contractor appearing after a thousand years. He just said with a tired face that this relocation wasn’t due to Ziplers tracking him, so we could rest easy. Ziplers don’t know I helped him.]
If Ziplers had known Keitam helped Solderet, Solderet wouldn’t have vanished, and Jin and Murakan wouldn’t be meeting him now.
“Did he explain why he moved Temar?”
“No. Probably to keep me out of it. Even when he first asked me to paint, he didn’t look well. I accepted the commission as a chance to create a masterpiece, but I didn’t want to get involved in your war. To be honest, I was afraid. As a god of painters, I just wanted to bless painters and live quietly.”
“Did your feelings change because I recently guaranteed your safety?”
[That’s part of it, but honestly, it’s because my work suddenly started falling apart. If it gets any worse, the events from a thousand years ago that I captured in the painting will be lost forever. Before that happens, I felt those qualified to see it should take a look.]
The “qualified” ones Keitam referred to were Solderet or those closely connected to him—namely Jin, Murakan, and Misha.
“To capture events from a thousand years ago in a painting… You hide incredible power, just like Olmango. What about Ox and Telpen?”
[We don’t have anything like that, Murakan.]
[Yeah, we just make frames and sharpen pencils.]
“I see. Then, Keitam, what exactly did you capture from a thousand years ago in your work?”
[The problem is that I can’t remember it. Until recently, every tiny detail was crystal clear, but ever since the work got corrupted, it’s been hard to recall. But I’m certain it had something to do with you, Murakan. That’s why I called Jin as soon as I heard from you.]
“A story related to me…?”
“Mr. Keitam said the work suddenly got ruined, and since then, he can’t remember the content. That suggests it’s likely a case of history manipulation by Zipl, but Zipl doesn’t know that Mr. Keitam helped Solderet, does it?”
[It’s unlikely to be history manipulation, Jin. As I said before, this piece is my magnum opus—I poured everything into it. Because the work is closely tied to my mental world, if it gets damaged, my memories get affected too.]
“I’m starting to get it. So you and the kid are supposed to enter the painting and check on the events from a thousand years ago before they get any more corrupted?”
[Exactly.]
“And if you find out who damaged the painting in the process, that’s even better?”
[That’s right. If we find them, we’ll make sure they pay dearly.]
“Alright, sounds simple enough. Since we can enter right away, let’s get ready.”
[…It won’t be that easy, Murakan. Inside the painting are the guardians I drew. It was originally meant to be a tomb for Temar. And because they’re part of the painting, I depicted those guardians as incredibly powerful, exactly as I imagined.]