The Master Painter and the Forbidden Room – Part 02
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Translator: Kell
“Ah, thank goodness! I’m so glad this isn’t hell. If real hell turned out to be so boring and unremarkable, it would’ve ruined my gruesome, yet solemn image of it. I would love to see the real thing, but I don’t want to if it would only bring disappointment. Why did God create man to be sinful?” He made exaggerated gestures.
When he realized that he was not dead, and in fact completely unharmed, he let out a deep sigh.
He was relieved to find out that I was just a Beastfallen, not a gatekeeper of hell. I don’t know if that was because he once thought he was dead, or maybe he was just stupid.
He said I was better than some hungry beast that chased him around, intending to eat him. He must be talking about a recent experience.
His malnourished figure belied the guts of a fearless warrior.
“It’s an honor to meet a real witch,” he said. “I believe what knocked me out earlier was this thing called Magic. I’ve heard rumors about it from troupers recently. Apparently anyone can create supernatural phenomena like witc—”
I pulled out my sword and pressed the blade against the man’s neck. He blinked repeatedly, glancing back and forth between me and the blade.
A few seconds later, he let out a fake-ass scream. “P-Please wait! Calm down! You got it wrong. I don’t know exactly what you got wrong, but I think you got it wrong!”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “Like you said, this woman is a witch. And you approached her without her noticing you. What’s more, despite being knocked out by Magic and having a Beastfallen threatening you with his sword, you don’t seem all that frightened. You didn’t cry, scream, or piss yourself. You’re also very perceptive, like a trained assassin.”
He didn’t look like one, but there were people who deliberately acted weak to let their enemy’s guard down.
“So all I have to do is piss myself?” he asked in a serious tone.
As I sighed, Zero tapped me on the shoulder. “That is enough, Mercenary. You are scaring him too much.”
“I’m not just scaring him. His actions suggest that he’s a pretty devout churchgoer. He may not be a bandit or an assassin, but if he snitches to the Church, they’ll come after us.”
As soon as Zero was identified as a witch—or even suspected of being one—we must be prepared to kill the person.
“N-No! It’s a misunderstanding! Yeah, I’m a devout believer, but it’s just a disguise to hide myself.”
“What?”
“I’m an artist! The Church has a soft spot for art, so I pretend to be a devout believer so they keep their eyes off of me and my work. I have proof! It’s in my bag. Oh wait. You don’t look like you can read.” He turned to Zero. “Milady, if you could check my bag for me.”
“Well, sorry for looking illiterate!” I pressed a knife to him.
“I meant no offense! Please, keep that thing away. You’re gonna ruin my face!”
It was surprising how even in this situation, he was more worried about his face than his life.
I didn’t need to shoot Zero a glance. She rummaged through the man’s bag and pulled out a sheaf of parchment. She gave the text a brief scan.
“Oh, is this a poem? Are you a poet?”
“I’m a bard. I can sing your praises here if you want! I can write a song to honor your beauty in a heartbeat.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry, but I can only write songs about beautiful women. Writing a song about your valor is difficult, but if you give me three day—”
“I don’t want it!” I barked.
I pushed the man away and put my sword back in its sheath. Not that I entirely believed the guy, but the over-the-top language and wild gestures made sense if he was a bard.
Still, we couldn’t rule out the possibility of him snitching on us to the Church.
The man breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. “Thank goodness we cleared that up. I felt a lot closer to death now than I did with the explosion earlier. Apologies for the late introduction. My name is Eduardo, a bard who lives in the area.” He extended his hand for a handshake.
I slapped his hand away. “Stop being overly-familiar, you peeping tom!”
“Peeping tom?” Eduardo asked in surprise. “Wait, did you think I was peeping? How rude! An artist like me would never commit such a vulgar act!”
“So you don’t remember peeping.”
“I swear to God!” He denied with confidence.
I was starting to think that maybe Zero was wrong. Did we just wrongly accuse the guy?
“I was simply watching!” he added. “Observing the perfect body of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen! Her nude figure was like a work of art. Ah, the glow of the clear water sliding over her porcelain skin!”
“I knew it! You fucking peeping maniac!” I gave him a good smacking.
He was absolutely guilty.
“You didn’t have to hit me! As you can see, I’m frail. A punch from a beast like you will kill me.”
“Looks to me like you’re alive and kicking. Maybe I should beat you up for real.”
“Please, no! I’m not made to endure any more pain! I’ve received my punishment. I won’t do it again!”
Shooting him a glance, I turned to Zero. “Did you really not notice this guy?’ I asked. “He came too close, didn’t he?.”
“To be precise, I was only aware of a living being lurking in the bushes. It felt like a wild animal, like a deer or a monkey. I did not expect a human being.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” the bard interjected. “To observe the world, I learned to become one with nature.” His eyes were crystal clear, to the point that it sickened me.
“Wipe that look off your face!” I roared. “What do you mean becoming one with nature?!”
“You live in the woods for a week. You don’t bathe, of course, and the only things you eat are nuts, fruits, and leaves. You don’t even wear clothes unless it’s cold. You get muddy.”
“What are you, an expert hunter?! It’s unbelievable how you can be so passionate about peeping.”
“Not peeping! Observing! I have a duty to compose verses about all the beautiful and unusual things in this world. For that, I don’t care what people say, and I don’t care if I have to commit a little crime.” He looked at Zero. “So please, milady!”
“Why me?”
“Please let me see your naked body up close!”
I grabbed the poet’s head, pulled him back, and threw him at a large nearby tree. His body traced an arc in the air before hitting the tree, sinking to the ground. Did I overdo it? Not that I’d care if he died.
I don’t kill unless it’s part of my job, but this guy was an exception.
But his appearance belied a ballsy and tough nature.
He immediately recovered and tried to convince Zero. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right away. Actually, I want you to be the subject of a painting more than a poem.”
“You paint too?” I asked sharply, hiding Zero behind me.
“No.” The bard shook his head gravely. “There’s someone who paints wonderful paintings based on my poems. They’re famous in their field, and their works are even displayed in churches and lords’ manors. But they haven’t been able to paint anything new for the past two years.”
“Oh, yeah? Really sorry to hear that.” I made my voice sound as disinterested as possible, but the bard smiled.
“Appreciate the sympathy,” he said. “Nowadays, some bigshots are so desperate for paintings that they’re sending in bandits to get them, putting the painter’s life at risk.”
“Now that sounds really serious. Just leave the country, then.”
“The painter has a weak constitution. They can’t handle long journeys.”
The desire of the powerful for works of art can be frightening. In this age, it wasn’t uncommon for people to go to war over the world’s best sculpture or something.
“I bet it’s because my poems suck,” Eduardo continued. “Since their frail body prevents them from going outside, my poems are all they have. I’ve been thinking that rather than composing poems, it might be better to just show them the subject matter directly. I can’t bring them landscapes, but I can bring them things and people.”
“So, you want me to disrobe in front of this painter?” Zero asked.
“Nah, at this point, you can keep your clothes on. You are beautiful even when wearing clothes. I beg you to give it some thought. Can you please take a look at their paintings before making a decision?”
“So you carry around paintings too?” I asked.
“Of course not.” The bard laughed and pointed deeper into the woods. “There’s a house that doubles as a workshop over there. We can get there before nightfall. There’s a vacant room, so you can stay there for the night. Pretty good deal, right?”
He was right. It was a good deal.
If people found out that the painting used a real witch as a subject, they’d both be in trouble. In other words, we could use it to make sure they wouldn’t snitch on us.
Nodding, Zero shot me a look that said, “What is the right thing to do in this case?”
I shrugged. “We won’t lose anything by going. Even if it’s a trap, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“I see.” Zero leaned out from behind me and looked at the bard. “Lead the way, then. If you have a proper kitchen, Mercenary can cook us some food. Besides, it is going to rain tonight.” She pointed at the sky.
It was clear and sunny, but the fast-moving clouds and the humid air suggested that her prediction was right on the money. In which case, camping out would be awful.
I picked Zero up to my shoulder. “Lead the way,” I told the bard.
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