The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 373

It was a giant bird.

“......”

Or was it human?

'It must be one of the Children of Origin—of that I’m sure. The very structure of its mystery is entirely different from a monster’s.'

The head of the Association’s research department stared at the mass of feathers roaring like a dragon. But it was not a dragon. It may have had two pairs of arms. It may have had jewel-like claws and legs. There were countless eyes embedded in its feathers.

Its feathers shifted like those of a chameleon. Or maybe like aurora film—or a prismatic spectrum. Even to the eyes of a researcher who had seen all manner of beauty, it was arresting. Inside that thick beak, the teeth resembled rows of shark teeth...

'Magnificent.'

Was it angry?

Then at what?

It looked as if it simply hated all humans.

'But could such an enormous mystery be that simple? Even at a glance, it's this ever-changing.'

It looked, perhaps, like an angel that had fallen and become a monster.

It soared with thousands, tens of thousands of wings. Or it climbed the air with talon-hooks, tearing space apart. It let out a deafening scream that split the air like a shriek, numbing eardrums. In a single flutter of its wings or sweep of its claw, people died.

From its many eyes, from between its feathers, from its glorious beak and at its joints, a golden ichor-like fluid dripped—cruel, somehow. When that golden spray touched a human, they would transform—into gleaming jewels or gold.

'No, this isn’t indiscriminate attack...'

The head of research knew it. Those dying now were all the ones who had long since thrown away their conscience. In the Association and its direct research branches, there was no one more fit for survival than a sociopath.

“Ah, right.”

Then I’m in danger too.

'Almost died watching.'

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK—!!

“Damn.”

Barely made it. The last defense gear she had activated had saved her.

'This new prototype’s working better than expected. It even held against that.'

With a few improvements, it might become an extraordinary product.

'If I don’t die before then.'

At the Association’s research lab, new and powerful tools were constantly developed. The results of analyzing and breaking down countless mysteries. And for each one of those mysteries, even more people died.

This attack seemed to be part of that cost.

“A funeral could hardly be better than this.”

She watched through the translucent shield. Her gaze remained steady and calm. Her eyes were fixed on the mass of feathers, but her hands never stopped scribbling on her tablet.

“Let’s see here...”

Thanks to it chewing at the shield, its inner mouth was exposed in full.

'...The number of teeth is constantly changing. That’s... unusual. A mystery that morphs constantly. Most mysteries bound by rules aren’t this fickle. Which must mean this one’s on a very high level.'

To be able to observe such a being at close range—it was an honor. She recorded her observations, eyes shifting in that inorganic, dry way full of obsessive fixation.

“Does it have hands?”

Oh—yes. It did have hands. Even when viewing that blurred silhouette from afar, she’d described it as ‘human’ for a reason. Between the feathers, she could see white arms and hands—made of feathers fused together.

“It seems unbalanced. Which suggests it may have copied someone’s form....”

She was sure she’d seen arms like those before.

“Ah.”

Hunter Sergio?

“Yes, exactly the same.”

With her memory of physical traits of all major social figures, she was confident.

'Then this must be some transformed form of Hunter Sergio?'

No—that couldn’t be. The head of research was one of the few who knew Sergio’s true identity. If he had turned hostile toward humanity, it wouldn’t be limited to just this scale.

'If this is a transformation of Sergio, then it’s not this—it would be that.'

The mask of the garden, which had long borrowed the face of reality, was now peeled away. This garden, no more than a façade of mystery particles, had become hollow. That hollow space was now being filled by countless paintings.

It felt as though she had entered a white gallery, overflowing with artwork in every direction.

'Even beneath my feet.'

Thanks to wearing armor in advance, she wasn’t greatly affected—but the hands clawing faintly at it were still unnerving. Human shapes, weeping blood and screaming—none of it was pleasant.

The emotions most commonly observed in the “paintings” were sorrow, rage, and joy. Occasionally, love or affection appeared. It seemed the garden’s master had ultimately climbed inside the system called the “Portrait of Gio.”

'Was that the plan all along...?'

To gradually dismantle the system, hand it back to the “Portrait of Gio,” and then, embraced by that vast mystery, toy with the participants of the garden. The current scene was exactly what this garden had always desired as its final outcome.

“This is troublesome.”

The research head scratched her head with a pen.

“There’s going to be massive damage...”

The thick emotions surging in from all sides carried heavy impact. People were being unwittingly swept up into the paintings’ feelings, driven mad. The emotions were too sharp, too vivid for humans to contain.

Some staff were being sucked into the paintings. Others were attacked by the limbs of the “Portrait.” Right now, the giant mass of feathers was being held in place by her—but the damage from the “paintings” was considerable.

“And now the system’s suddenly revived and completely deranged.”

'Love me¿'

“No thanks.”

'I love you, my friend.'

“This is just... creepy.”

Luckily, she was dull to emotion. Most of the staff, though, were already losing their minds because of this “system.” Some seemed to have received bizarre quests and were acting with eerie determination.

'A clever garden.'

To summarize: it had broken the “Promise of Eternity” to enlarge the “Portrait of Gio,” and then carved an opening to crawl inside. Calculated. Bold. Deeply narcissistic.

“I’d like to be friends, but... in this state, that’s not happening.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t like Jeong Hae-Woon, the kind of gardener who could get along with any garden. The two gardens that had just a while ago been helping to mediate between other gardeners had now gone completely silent.

'Like children scolded by their parent.'

It seemed likely this was the “Portrait’s” doing.

'Judging by how light my body feels, I think it’s still showing a gardener some degree of courtesy.'

Maybe the toil of a gardener and the sins of a human were separate. Now that the erratic garden and the Portrait of Gio had fused, it was harder than ever to get a sense of its rhythm. And that made it all the more fascinating.

“Ha... tragic.”

She was a habitual liar—but this time, she meant it.

'If only I had more time, I could’ve learned so much more.'

To have such an alluring mystery right in front of her. Every direction she looked—entrancing. But all she could do now was record what she knew.

Time was far too short.

“......”

Click. Clack-clack...!!

“...Oh, it went through.”

CLINK—!!

“Let’s hope it—”

Connects.

CRACK-K-K-K—!!

***

“Boss~...?”

The Hunter who had once been paired with Hunter Sergio as a blonde duo—Sanarae—whimpered.

“This is way too rough.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“That’s not what I ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) meant.”

“You want me to curse at you instead?”

“You’re the worst....”

CRACK—!!

Swiping blood from his hands, Sanarae dealt with the rampaging beasts.

“...What the hell did these guys eat to get this tough?”

His hands were numb.

'For my hands to hurt like this is rare.'

Even if doppelganger-type monsters weren’t known for durability, this one was a meticulously refined creation. Among the “successes” of those lunatic researchers, he was the only true standout.

'If I’m struggling this much, then the others...'

Sanarae sighed so deeply it felt like his soul was leaking out.

“Haaaaaaa....”

“Shit, we’re already on the verge of death—stop sighing and wasting our luck.”

“Our luck’s already gone, boss...”

“You’re back-talking? Congratulations, promotion when we get back, asshole.”

“Please no...”

Sanarae let out another whimper and hurled himself into the mass of frenzied beasts.

'Better I take them down before my kids get killed.'

Humans were fragile. With his own regeneration and reflexes, Sanarae was best equipped to lead. Limbs could be severed and he’d still survive. But 100% pure humans? They might bleed out and die just from a few hits.

Recognizing that, his teammates yelled out:

“Boss, stop going off on your own!!”

“He’s doing it again, guys! Stick close!!”

“Shit! Boss! Stay with us!!”

Their highly uncooperative attitudes made Sanarae grind his teeth.

“Shouldn’t you be like, praising the hell out of me right now?!”

“Maybe our baby boss doesn’t know how the human world works, but humans are social beings—”

“I’m a modified monster hunter, not a baby! What, you think I was born yesterday?! I was born an adult, okay?!”

He was grateful they hadn’t rejected him after learning his origin. Still, it stung. He was the boss, legally an adult—but ever since the truth came out, they kept teasing him about his age whenever they got the chance.

“My biological age is legally adult, dammit...!!”

“Real age is how much life experience you have, baby boss, now stay back!”

“FUCK!!”

It would’ve been funny the first few times—but no more. Enraged, Sanarae swung his fists at the frenzied animals. He couldn’t bring himself to hit his own teammates—out of the solid bond of camaraderie.

His squad leader yelled out:

“Damn! Look at that effect! Keep going!! Didn’t you see?! That asshole’s skull-busting speed just doubled!!” 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

“BOSS, SERIOUSLY!!”

Crack, thud!! CRUNCH!!

“If you keep teasing me I’m gonna cry, I swear I will!!”

“Cry, then!!”

“You’re all so mean!!”

For a moment, they’d felt joy in reuniting—but seeing Haryeong act like this, the members of Eunwol were at a loss for words.

“......”

“Mother...”

“Stop calling for your mom. You’re back to your senses.”

“It was an exclamation.”

“What kind of exclamation sounds like that.”

“Please respect me.”

Adjusting her cracked glasses, the flower gardener Jeong Yeong-Won gripped her staff.

“Should I help them?”

“...I honestly don’t know what else to do anymore.”

“Fair enough.”

Most of Eunwol were healers or supporters. Their combat-capable members had been dragged into the field by Haryeong’s pressure. The rest—those in relatively safe positions—just stood still like this.

But they weren’t really doing nothing. Non-combat staff were rotating out as they exhausted their stamina, continuously healing and buffing frontline fighters. Everyone was doing their part.

“Guild Haryeong members do have amazing regeneration.”

“That’s why I don’t hate them. My healing efficiency with them is phenomenal. Swinging my staff actually feels rewarding.”

“But they’re so wild it’s still a problem.”

“And they come back hurt just as much as they regenerate. That’s why I don’t love them either.”

“Net zero. They’re incredible people either way.”

Jeong Yeong-Won gauged her stamina, then gave a small cough.

“...Still, I think I can at least help with mobility.”

As she swung her staff, brilliant flowers bloomed atop many of the “paintings.”

“If I weave in some vines here to make a walkway...”

“Oh, so that’s what you were resting up for? But it’s still plants—won’t they break if those maniacs trample on them?”

“I’ll hold them steady.”

Even though frames were laid out in midair, touching them would trigger status effects. And the “paintings” in this zone were full of traps and poison. So she laid out terrain to make it easier for the combatants to move.

It would also provide healing as they crossed it...

“Hey, on your head.”

“This much is fine.”

Jeong Yeong-Won brushed the flower blooming like a crown on her head. It wasn’t covering a vital organ, and it had bloomed beautifully—closer to a prank than a threat.

“But still, it’s amazing seeing you so calm, Flower Keeper.”

“Shouldn’t a flower keeper be calm by nature?”

“It’s normal to get mad when someone eats away at your garden’s assets. And after using this much power, for you to be in a good mood—it’s a miracle.”

“Does it have to be a miracle...?”

“Maybe gardeners just get treated better.”

“You were about to die not long ago.”

“Exactly.”

Jeong Yeong-Won looked up at her superior.

“So what do you think this situation is?”

“You said earlier the Eye of Origin seems fused with the garden’s master. Maybe the master did something to throw a tantrum? These beasts going wild when they hadn’t been visible at all before...”

“If it keeps going like this, it’s going to be trouble.”

Most of the “paintings” only triggered status effects through gaze or touch—but occasionally, hands or monsters would burst out from behind frames. Some would speak in chilling voices or issue weird “quests” like some twisted system.

'Not that I have much stamina left anyway.'

She’d done all the support she could. But staying still like this wasn’t in her nature. Gently, she sat down in the flowerbed she had created.

“...What, you that tired?”

“No.”

Placing a hand atop the blooming painting, Jeong Yeong-Won closed her eyes.

“I’m going to try communicating with the gardeners.”

She had to find a way to soothe this garden, now turned into a more tangled labyrinth than ever.

***

“......”

Yoo Seong-Woon, who had been resting his hand on a frozen painting, opened his eyes.

“...This might take some time.”

“What happened?”

“I used a little trick to open a passage for the gardeners.”

He looked up at Bisa Beul.

“I’m going to try cultivating the fragmented garden into something traversable. Do we have time?”

“If we don’t, we’ll make some.”

Still blindfolded by black cloth, Bisa Beul turned to his staff.

“You can manage it?”

“Yes, Guildmaster.”

“And our priests...?”

The Moon Sect priests nodded.

“...There are things we’re not happy about, but for now—we’ll help.”

“If we want to settle this crisis, we need the gardeners’ help.”

“We have to reach the source of this disaster.”

“Honestly, we didn’t even know how we’d get there like this.”

Zeorge, burrowing into the “Portrait of Gio,” had gone berserk. The garden, which still vaguely resembled a “world,” had mutated. Even more wildly than when the two Symbols of Eternity had clashed. There was no more ground or sky.

Now, all they could stand on—or touch—were “paintings.” And within those, monsters could appear. Touching them triggered status effects. There was no way to approach the epicenter in this state.

Bisa Beul chuckled softly.

“You heard all that, Curator Yoo Seong-Woon?”

“Let’s give it a shot.”

Fortunately, the current “Portrait of Gio,” now fused with Zeorge, had an unclear ego. Their traits had muddled in fusion, and Zeorge couldn’t focus on individual humans.

Which made it easier to slip through the cracks and tend to the garden unnoticed.

'And I’m in good condition.'

As Yoo Seong-Woon closed his eyes again, frost bloomed across his body. Starting from the tips of his fingers, he began to freeze—slowly turning into a glacier-like form.

In that way, he forgot that he was human.

“......”

He became one with the snowy field, sinking into the garden.

***

The surviving hunters felt it.

“...Huh?”

The floating paintings were moving with new rhythm and structure.

“This is... no doubt...”

“Yeah—it’s the power of the gardener.”

From that, ground was born. And sky. And thus, a world.

In the end, a new dungeon had been created.

“...Holy shit.”

A gallery resembling a snow-white forest.

The final stage had begun.