Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Volume 1 - Actually, This Is an Isekai Story (4)
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"But why do so many mages operate under pseudonyms, or aliases, I guess?"
"Oh, I've heard my father mention it. Painting is ultimately just a hobby for mages—something they do to relax during breaks from research or practice, right?"
That's why there are plenty of mages who don't bother painting at all.
Makes sense. There must be a lot of people who think they should focus more on magic than wasting time on paintings.
Or maybe they just don't enjoy drawing in the first place.
"Exactly."
"But if they use their real names, it's like advertising to the world that they're slacking off."
"Ah...?"
"That's why most mages have separate artist names."
It was an explanation that clicked immediately.
In this world, being an artist was fundamentally a hobby, not a profession—practically playing around. So it wasn't surprising that kind of culture had formed.
Come to think of it, I'd heard that mages earned better pay than artists of the same caliber, so maybe that's why.
Apparently, they often just entered pieces into exhibitions and took them back instead of auctioning them off.
"They create them as a hobby and want to keep them for themselves, huh?"
"Pretty much. These days, with magic copies or photographs, the actual sales rate has gone up a bit, from what I hear."
Following Rozaria into what looked like a massive art gallery, I was greeted by countless paintings displayed in neatly divided sections.
It seemed primarily organized by popularity, but the separate replica gallery suggested other criteria as well.
Honestly, the painting culture here was way more developed than I'd expected.
"All the replicas have the original's location marked."
"It's tough to travel to far-off regions without seeing replicas first, so popular ones get displayed via copies elsewhere. Sold originals aren't shown out of courtesy, so everything on display has its location listed."
"That's neat."
Not quite a ranking system, but grouping the crowd-pleasers made it super viewer-friendly.
The fact that they'd implemented such a polished offline system showed how serious the hobbyists were.
And honestly, more than anything else...
"Whoa, this is insane."
What hit me hardest was the quality of the paintings on display.
Being in the capital's gallery probably helped—tons of highly acclaimed originals were here.
Looking at them, it was hard to hold back the gasps of admiration.
Medieval paintings were typically crude, made with limited pigments.
There were oils and watercolors, of course, but also tons painted with pigment types I'd never seen before.
Since painting was a mage's hobby, pigment development must have advanced rapidly thanks to magic.
Talk about a silver lining.
At first, while touring the works, my thoughts were all about the pigments and their pristine conditions.
But as time passed, those faded away.
The paintings themselves had an insane pull.
"Whoa..."
The art in this world resembled classicism the most, out of any era I knew.
Not that it was truly classicism—just similar in expression.
Fundamentally realistic, but with natural exaggerations to highlight key elements and infuse meaning.
Unlike classicism's reverence for ancient themes, though, it infused the artist's unique message.
How could similar color palettes convey such different emotions? It was mind-blowing.
"Oh, this one's by Professor Rondo."
"Professor Rondo?"
"My magic professor at Graveda Academy, where I'll enroll! She's also my grandfather's disciple."
"Full name's just Rondo? Hmm, must be skilled. Why no title...?"
"She probably turned it down on purpose. She's an elf."
"Ah, an elf..."
Hearing "elf" snapped me back to reality.
Magic felt like advanced tech from my Kali days, not fantasy.
Other races weren't common in Kali's life, so "elf" really drove home that this was another world.
An elf painted this?
My first impression of World Within the Door by Professor Rondo the elf was how refined it was.
Despite being oil, the stereoscopic effect was eerily subdued.
The lines were so clean, you'd swear it was a photo.
I'd heard magic cameras already existed.
If it weren't specified as oil and depicted something impossible for a regular camera, I'd have mistaken it for a photo. The style was that unique.
"Whoa, this is nuts."
With cameras newly invented, clean realism probably lost appeal.
So artists leaned on painting's unique depth and special qualities while still evoking replication's beauty.
That was the common thread in today's hits.
But this piece expressed the same vibe completely differently.
It deliberately killed off traits that screamed "painting," mimicking a photo instead.
Yet no one seeing it would ask what made it different from a photo.
Everything but the door was hyper-realistic—you could believe it was a photo.
But inside the open door wasn't a mundane building interior.
A brutal, merciless battlefield with flowing blood and raging fires filled it.
A perfectly ordinary, beautiful house containing a vividly rendered outdoor warzone.
'Cameras are recent, so no photo editing tech. Even if there was, analog compositing wouldn't blend this seamlessly.'
It felt like a photo of a world that actually looked like this.
The connectivity only possible because it was all hand-drawn from the start.
Not shying from photos to prove it's a painting, but getting as close as possible while showing what only paint can do.
A true leader in technique and ideas for this era.
'Is this stuff okay?'
These masterpieces were so stunning, I was losing my mind.
But the problem? All I knew how to draw was otaku art—deformed, non-realistic manga style.
Was it right to unleash that in this beautifully shining art scene?
"Man, if they post my trash art, I might get straight-up murdered..."
Even if that risk existed, I'd draw anyway.
And enter it here.
If they hated the weird otaku stuff and shunned me, oh well.
Even if the masses ignored it, I had to believe someone in this world would like my art and keep drawing.
"Ah, it's such a shame. If we'd arrived a day earlier as planned, I could've done your portrait and taught you to paint."
"Schedule slipped—can't be helped. You've got dorm unpacking too. Head back."
"You sure you don't need more help?"
She'd already handled the big stuff, so I could manage solo now.
Just shop at the art supply store she recommended and head back.
Bringing me to the capital, touring exhibits, and pointing out the best shop was plenty.
"I'm good. I'll want to see it too, so visit during break and hang out. I got no friends without you, Ria."
"Yeah...!"
After parting with Rozaria, I headed to the spot she'd mentioned.
The moment I stepped inside, the sharp oil scent of paints hit me—confirmation I'd found the right place.
A dazzling array of materials and tools solely for painting stretched endlessly before me.
I lost track of time just browsing.
"No wonder the paintings' quality was so high..."
Innumerable paint types, top-tier canvases, mana-infused color pens, special brushes and knives.
The feast of insane tools left me gaping.
How was this medieval era classifying colors like codes with such diverse additives?
Non-stop admiration.
The clerk explained these were mage-oriented, so special tools required basic mana control.
A bit disappointing that non-mages couldn't use them easily for painting.
But even without those, the basics far exceeded expectations—totally bearable.
"Now, what to start with..."
I didn't know which materials best recreated my digital style in reality.
I'd always drawn on computer and tablet— no way I knew that yet.
Guess I'd have to experiment to find out...
"Ah, screw it. Buy a ton of everything."
Wait, wasn't I loaded with cash right now?
Just buy it all—problem solved.
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