Does the Nameless Painter Dream of Masterpieces? (1)
Edmund Hagenrot. In the original story, he was born into a scholar's family and lived under strict education to inherit the family business. But his true dream was to become a painter. As a child, he had been captivated by a painting he happened to see, and though he lacked talent, he was someone who kept striving endlessly. …Even though he ended up contracting with a demon in the process and became a villain who joined the Demon King's army. Surprisingly, his evaluation among players wasn't bad. A villain with conviction. The despair born from the gap between talent and dreams. The story of a pure young man who simply wanted more people to see his paintings. It was a process everyone experiences at least once.
“Cough, hack…!” All my companions except Luna and me collapsed to the floor, vomiting up filthy water. Some even spat out fish with human fingers or eyeballs attached. …Why were the two of us fine?
[System: Abraxas, activating mental barrier.]
For now, I had Abraxas to thank. “M-Master! The moment I fell into the water, I just held my breath…!” Luna had apparently given up immediately due to her past trauma. …What would normally be a negative trait was now working in our favor. A perfect hard counter. Even in the original work's Chapter 3, when Luna was the protagonist, there had been details about special buffs activating when she was present.
—Clang! Clang! I parried Edmund's brush strokes with the holy sword. This was similar to the original. …The moment he painted, it overwrote reality. “He really is dangerous enough for that person to warn about. Honestly, I'm surprised.”
“That person?”
“The Great Dreamer, the Sleeper in R'lyeh, the Lord of the Depths. You know those names, don't you?”
Edmund smiled even after seeing his ability neutralized. Those were all epithets of Cthulhu. “…Well, there are plenty of people who want me dead.” I gave a bitter smile. …How was I supposed to close the distance? As if he knew we would try to escape the depths, the gap between us was too wide. I couldn't rely on luck. Even if I laid down steel threads or threw daggers, they would be deflected.
'Edmund's ability is similar to Luna's, but different in nature.' If Luna's magic was about manifesting ideals into reality, Edmund's was the power to make the paintings he drew become real. Implementation and overlay. Creation and imitation were opposite concepts. …In the end, just like in the original, Luna's magic would be the key to killing Edmund.
“Luna, there's something I want to try…. Can you still use 8th Circle magic right now?”
“Y-Yes, I can…!”
“Then use fire magic. I think we need to burn the painting away.”
Ultimately, the medium was the canvas and brush. Burning it completely was the best way to stop it. “B-But without you, Master…!”
“You can do it. I'll vouch for you, Luna.”
Right now, my companions were in no state to use Copy and borrow their abilities. …They were still vomiting filthy water and fish, faces twisted in pain. I'd have to handle the defense for a while.
[Shade, Shade. What the hell happened to you that you're still vomiting water…]
Even Phantom, the Shadow Wolf, couldn't be used in this situation. Among the worst options, this was still better. Luna could move. So did I have to use Complete Copy? “You're planning to use your ability. I'm sorry, but I've already accounted for that.”
“……!!!”
“The reason I didn't kill the elves was partly my own conviction, but—”
—Whoosh. I immediately whistled upon seeing Edmund swing his brush. A sense of danger washed over my entire body. “…Because I thought you'd make the perfect hostage to keep you restrained.”
At that moment, elves burst from the ground like zombies and grabbed my feet. Reality alteration using paintings. He was probably controlling the elves like his limbs. In the distance, I could even see Luna's mother. “If it's a battle of numbers, I have no intention of losing easily either.”
Edmund Hagenrot held one conviction: that art had no need for human lives. That was why he never killed any living being. …After all, art was meant to move people and make their hearts race. There was no need to speak of sacrifice. 'The reason I dragged Shade and his party into the depths in the first place was for that reason too….' Honestly, I was a little surprised. It was a trap that would have sent them into eternal sleep. Yet they had escaped the painting with magic. According to what the Great Dreamer had told him, they were supposed to be ordinary humans…. …That couldn't be right. How could a human who opposed an Outer God be called ordinary?
“Why did you choose that path?”
—Thud, thud! Shade's clones emerged from the shadows. That ability wasn't a simple Copy that replicated something. …It was more like a path of hope where everyone united for the sake of one. 'For now, I'll call it All for One.' A glint of interest flashed in Edmund's eyes. Yes, he had wanted to paint a hero like that. The emotion he had felt as a child when seeing the portrait of the First Hero crossed his mind. Title □■□■. Artist unknown. It felt as if a hero who should have been forgotten even in history had been revived.
“Why did you choose this path, you ask?”
“Yes. Someone of your caliber could have aimed for something other than an Outer God, couldn't you?”
Edmund stopped painting and attempted conversation. The elves emerging from the ground through his paintings. Shade was carefully knocking them unconscious without injuring them as he advanced. That was surely what one would call a hero. A hero chosen by the gods had its limits. …It seemed dialogue might work.
“One night, while gazing at the sky, I simply realized the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Yes. To a cosmic being, a mere human is no different from an ant….”
Edmund bit his lip hard. In truth, even after facing the Great Dreamer, he had hoped that someday someone would recognize his art. Even the massive shadow devouring this world—he wanted to turn it into a canvas. “…Because we can do nothing.”
“Is that so? Then why did you stop painting?”
Edmund's eyebrows twitched at Shade's sharp remark. “Weren't you capable of tearing apart the limbs of my incapacitated companions and killing them with your ability?”
He knew about the ability and had blocked it with the holy sword from the start, so he must know how to counter it. Why point this out specifically? “If I did something like that, I felt you would truly kill me.”
“That's a lie, isn't it?”
…Had he been found out? Even the Great Dreamer had been easy to deceive because his expressions were faint. “You actually want to leave behind a masterpiece at least once, don't you? A work that everyone would know and rejoice over.”
The gray-haired man spoke while putting his mask back on. …Was he someone who understood art? “Isn't that every creator's dream?”
Edmund feigned nonchalance to probe Shade's true intentions. Creating a work that everyone would love. That had been Edmund's dream since childhood, his everything. “Yeah, most people are like that.”
…If he could achieve that dream, he wouldn't mind offering his life to the Great Dreamer. “Among them, you were the one who thought that a human without dreams was as good as dead.”
Hmm, how did he know that too? Could he read minds? “…It's strange that someone as prideful as you would so readily side with an Outer God.”
“I like siding with the strong, you see.”
“Really? Would you believe me if I said there was a future where you became one of the Demon King's Four Heavenly Kings?”
What? For a moment, Edmund's hand froze. “The Edmund I know was a man who painted whatever he wanted to his heart's content.”
A future without contacting the Outer God. The possibility of becoming one of the Demon King's Four Heavenly Kings and painting freely…. That had been within his reach? “There would have been no need to paint as if it were reality….”
“…You're quite eloquent.”
“Of course, the public's evaluation was harsh. Because you only painted grotesque and gloomy pictures.”
—Clang! Before he knew it, Shade had reached Edmund and swung the holy sword. It clashed with the brush, producing a fierce metallic sound. He was certainly someone the Great Dreamer would see as a thorn in his side. “…But back then, you looked happier than you do now.”
“Do you have proof?”
—Whoosh. Edmund swung his brush again. This time aiming for Luna's arm as she cast magic from afar…. '…I'll draw a red line.' But he couldn't complete the motion. The hypothetical. The possibility that he could have met the Demon King and fully unleashed his talent dominated him. “Other people told me that while your paintings are gloomy and damp…, there's an emotional line only Edmund can express.”
“…Is that so.”
Shade's words seemed to contain not a single lie. …After all, he had been waiting without burning the canvas until now. “Somewhere out there, you have fans too.”
Probably. “In the world I know…, when praising another creator, people sometimes jokingly compare them to you.”
This person's words were probably right. Recognition and the desire for fame. And dreams and the urge to create. Those were things more important than life itself to a creator—
—Slash! Edmund allowed Shade's attack. “…Now's the time. Luna, burn it!”
Seeing the flames flying from afar precisely targeting only his canvas, he smiled faintly. …Yes, this was the kind of person he wanted to paint. A hero who discarded everything for victory, a nameless hero's soul who fell to the bottom and became a shadow. The fourth reincarnation of the First Hero. —That truth reflected in Edmund's eyes. The brush was broken, the canvas burned. So what now? Would he surrender like this? No, no. He wanted to paint this person. 'I must create a masterpiece using even my own life as the canvas.' Edmund was a painter to the bone.
…Wasn't this too easy? After severing Edmund's right arm, I felt something out of place. In the original, he was a character with a backstory who faced the player regrettably. I pitied that Edmund and chose this method instead of killing him. “Master, shall we finish this?”
“…Wait a little longer.”
I had burned the canvas, broken the brush, and cut off his dominant right arm. Since dialogue had worked. …I thought that even if he was influenced by the Outer God, he wouldn't be able to attack us now. “Just surrender and give up. We might find a way to remove the Outer God's influence….”
“Ha, hahaha…. Hahahaha…!”
Edmund was laughing like a madman. “Shade-nim, what do you think is absolutely necessary for a hero's myth?”
This guy had more life in his eyes than before. He seemed sane. “I don't know, a hymn to humanity?”
“No, that's not it.”
Then, using a finger stained with his own blood, he began drawing in the air. “…Death and resurrection. All myths have that in common.”
All the tentacles on his back did the same, creating grotesque shapes in the air. “I've given you a hint. Now, please show me directly the possibility of an epic that will save humanity.”