Chapter 828
Episode 209: Temar’s Seventh Tomb – The Painting of Keitam (Part 1)
“What? What do you mean there’s a guardian inside?”
[That’s right. Since the painting was originally meant to serve as a tomb, it’s only natural.]
“It’s not natural at all that there’s a pocket dimension inside the painting, that there’s a guardian within it, or that the guardian’s combat power is at your whim. How strong are these guardians exactly?”
[I can’t recall the exact level of their power. As I mentioned earlier, the painting was damaged, and my memory has become unreliable. All I know is that they’re incredibly strong.]
“Are you saying there might even be a guardian with power on the level of a Changseong-class warrior?”
[That’s unlikely. It wouldn’t make sense… Among the people of Temar at that time, no one was stronger than that.]
“And me?”
[Of course, I know you and Temar were evenly matched. Hah, maybe I painted you at your prime.]
“My prime? Even now, the kid and I together wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Really? That strong? You said you were close to your prime, right?”
“Close and complete are two different things. Heh, back then, Murakan was someone you couldn’t kill unless you were Changseong-class. No matter how many tough guys came at him, if none were Changseong, he was untouchable.”
“That sounds like bragging.”
“If you don’t like it, become Changseong yourself. But I guess a kid like you wouldn’t understand. You have to experience it to know. Ha ha ha.”
Jin almost threw a punch.
[The only saving grace is that everything I paint exists solely within the painting. Whether it’s Murakan at his prime or something even stronger, nothing can come out.]
If it were possible to bring the painting’s contents into reality, Keitam wouldn’t be treated as a mid-to-low-tier god.
[However, if you enter my painting, that place becomes your reality for the duration. The guardians can attack you, and you can be injured. If you can’t defeat them, you could die.]
“So, according to you, Keitam, the painting contains a thousand-year-old history but offers no other rewards, and there are immeasurable dangers lurking inside.”
Keitam nodded sheepishly. He felt he had no right to stop Jin and Murakan from entering.
But Jin wasn’t about to give up.
He judged that the chance to witness an intact piece of history from a thousand years ago was worth the risk.
Besides, the corruption in the painting had started ‘suddenly,’ and Keitam said it was unlikely to be due to historical tampering.
The witch Helluram, or Lokia Ganesto.
Jin had a feeling this incident was somehow connected to them.
“But if one of them is the culprit, why would they suddenly damage Keitam’s painting now? Is it because they don’t want me to know the history depicted? If so, there must have been a better time to do it—when I was too weak to help Keitam.”
The reason the suspects damaged the painting could only be uncovered by entering it directly.
“Keitam, is there any safety measure for entering the painting? Like a way to escape immediately?”
[Since I lost control of the painting, there’s none at the moment. But if you manage to repair the damaged parts inside, I might regain control.]
“So basically, you’re asking us to restore the painting?”
[You could say that, Murakan. But I truly believe you need to see the story of that era. No one else can enter—it requires the ability to manipulate spiritual energy. The restoration is just my hope. Even if you safely explore the thousand-year-old events and return, the painting might never be restored.]
“Oh, don’t take my joke so seriously. But do you really feel sorry?”
[Of course.]
“Really?”
[I’m telling you!]
“Then can I understand that you’ll accept any reward I ask for?”
[Well, I’m sorry, but hearing you say that might just loosen my reason a bit. Heh heh heh…]
“Keitam, you’re the one telling us to go in for our own good. What more reward do you need, Murakan? We might find crucial clues about a thousand years ago. That’s the greatest reward. It’s history even you don’t remember.”
“No, no. Still, maybe thanks to us, the painting could be restored. There’s one thing I absolutely have to get from this painter god.”
[Stop annoying me and just say it. What is it?]
“Draw me a book of erotic paintings. A book of spring pictures drawn by the god of painting himself. Ha… that would be amazing. I could fix the damage to my eyes caused by Luet.”
“I’m amazed, Murakan. You’re asking a god for that?”
[Fine, I’ll draw it. Jin, if you want me to paint something, just say it.]
“I’ll gratefully accept whatever you offer.”
“Heh, then I’ll take care of the kid’s share too.”
“I’ll just go in and think it over. Whatever it is, it’ll be worth more than a book of erotic paintings.”
“You just can’t stand to see me do well, huh? Tch. This kid used to have some charm when he was younger.”
“Alright, I’m going into the painting now, Keitam.”
Despite the lack of any real safety measures, Jin felt neither burdened nor afraid.
“You said there’s no way a Changseong-class guardian would be here due to plausibility, so there’s no enemy now that Murakan or I can’t handle. There might be a variable with Murakan at his prime, but… it’s still just a painting. It can’t have the same power as a real Changseong.”
Even if the power levels matched, the painting’s guardians couldn’t truly equal a Changseong’s combat strength. No matter how vivid, a painting is still a painting, with clear limits.
If it were possible to depict a real Changseong-class being at will, Keitam’s painting would have been Temar’s final tomb. There’d be no need for reburial with such guardians present.
[Alright. Ox, Telpen!]
Ox and Telpen stepped forward. Ox placed a translucent frame around the painting, while Telpen pulled a pencil from his mouth and handed it to Keitam. The pencil grew so large in Keitam’s hand it looked more like a spear than a writing tool.
[I’m going to draw the entrance into the painting. Everyone stay perfectly still. This requires extreme concentration. Especially you, Murakan—if you open the door suddenly again, I swear I’ll lose it while working. Seriously, it pisses me off just thinking about it.]
“Y-yeah, got it…”
[Shut up!]
This time, both Murakan and Jin were a bit dumbfounded but stayed quiet. Keitam was already swinging the giant pencil over the black painting, his eyes wild with madness. Murakan twirled his index finger near his temple, and Jin shrugged.
With each stroke, white circular rings appeared on the black painting. After a moment, a scene began to emerge inside the white circle.
‘…A forest? No, a mountain?’
The circle was too small to see clearly, but it was unmistakably filled with lush green trees. It looked like peering down at a forest or mountain through a small gap above the clouds. Even at a glance, the scale was impressive.
Drip, drip.
Sweat fell from Keitam’s brow onto the floor. He collapsed, wiping his forehead as if exhausted.
[Whew, finally opened it. Almost couldn’t do it.]
“It looks more like a forest than a tomb. It seems part of a massive mountain range. Is the tomb somewhere in there?”
[Probably. Damn it, I don’t even remember what my own work looks like anymore. I don’t know how to express this miserable feeling. You go see it and tell me. If it gets restored, I’ll draw you over a hundred books of erotic paintings. Please! Oh god! Give me the answer!]
Hey, you are the god. Also, a hundred books!?
Jin expected Murakan to make a fuss over that, so he reflexively covered his ears. But Murakan was staring intently into the circle, his eyes trembling in shock.
“Murakan?”
“That’s… my mountain range…”
“Your mountain range?”
“Yeah, my mountain range, my home. I can tell just by looking at those trees… It’s definitely the Murakan Mountain Range.”
Murakan Mountain.
The tallest mountain on the surface, its name naturally derived from its owner, Murakan.
And now, Murakan felt a flood of long-forgotten memories wash over him.
Memories from when Murakan Mountain wasn’t just a mountain, but a vast mountain range stretching across all of Hupester.
Back then, the Murakan Mountain Range was called the spine of Hupester, and Murakan was its sole ruler.
“So you’re saying Murakan Mountain used to be a mountain range?”
“Yeah… The mountains left now are just the broken remnants. Even the Storm Castle at the peak… Ugh!”
Suddenly, Murakan grabbed his forehead and bent over in pain.
“Murakan, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Damn, just remembering those days gives me a headache. I don’t know how I lived forgetting such a massive mountain range. It had its center in Mittel and stretched across all of Hupester—from the southernmost to the northernmost point.”
“…There really was such a huge mountain range in Hupester?”
“Yes. No dragon could pass through it without my permission.”
Even after a thousand years, if such a massive mountain range had existed, there should be stories about it.
There wasn’t a single line about the Murakan Mountains in any historical record, nor even a whispered legend passed down through generations.
Only one old tale remained in Runkandel.
A thousand years ago, the black dragon Murakan was defeated by Temar Runkandel, the first clan leader. After his defeat, Murakan was granted the Storm Fortress and fell into a deep, endless slumber.
Jin was overwhelmed by a sudden intuition.
‘The story Keitam captured in his painting from a thousand years ago must be the truth about Murakan and Temar…’
Murakan took a deep breath and lifted his head.
“Hey, Keitam. How exactly are we supposed to get in now?”
[If you just barge in headfirst, you’ll slip right through like you’re stepping on thin air. Looks like you’ve already started to remember some old memories.]
“Not just some—I need to remember everything and come back. Don’t forget to wait with those hundred volumes of erotic paintings. Let’s go, kid.”