chapter 91

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons - Episode 91

Lighting a campfire.

“Is this how you do it...?”

Placing charcoal in the middle of it.

“It’s not the charcoal we used when we lived in Edlen, but the scent is fine.”

To the side, she set up a device so they could grill clams by building walls.

Perhaps because it was made of appropriately flat stones, it was bumpy and didn’t look very stable.

Soaked in a strange sentiment, Aria muttered quietly.

“It might have been better if we had bricks...”

Recalling memories from childhood and comparing them to the campfire of now, the mermaid looked down at her hands stained black with charcoal.

“...”

After a long while, Aria murmured.

“...It’s different from back then.”

When she prepared a campfire with that small body, it had been so hard.

“It always brings back old times, but becoming this peaceful is a very unfamiliar experience.”

Suddenly, Aria was seized by the delusion that she was dreaming.

A cold-blooded sage.

The incarnation of the sea.

The judge of all seawater.

The master of the world called the Deep Sea, and of the game board, would have no reason to remake such a small, shabby campfire.

To repeat the actions of her most peaceful time in life with these hands full of blood stench...

“It doesn’t feel real at all.”

She had never even imagined it could be possible.

There was no reason it would be.

“It feels strange, too.”

In truth, all of this might have been made by a single mermaid who couldn’t erase old habits, falling into a long sleep.

She sometimes had dreams like that, so it wasn’t all that strange.

Staring at the flickering fire, Aria soon murmured.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter...”

She did not rashly try to distinguish what in the present situation was truth and what was false.

It was unlike Aria, who had never valued hallucinations and had always faced only reality.

But if it was a dream like this, the delusion was well worth enjoying as a delusion.

“Gio.”

Dragging the hem of a dress that didn’t suit this place at all, Aria headed to the cabin’s kitchen.

“The place to grill the clams is ready.

We just need to put the grill grate on top.”

“I’ve finished all the prep as well.

The stew is almost complete, too.”

“Then are we planning to eat outside?”

“There’s a campfire, and the weather is nice.

Wouldn’t that be far more enjoyable?”

“Your words are right.”

This happened very often.

They would go to a bustling market together and choose the ingredients that appealed most that day, and Gio would cook with the ingredients the mermaids liked.

He was the only adult in that small house, and also the cook.

Aria and Iser would look up at their tall teacher by his side, learning human wisdom or chattering about pointless things.

An atmosphere that never became orderly.

At times like that, their teacher would ask for help.

“Would you help too, Aria?

The teacher’s hands are short of help...”

“Give the clams here.”

Receiving the tray filled with clams Gio had prepped, Aria continued.

“This is my role.”

Grilled clams were always Aria’s assignment.

“I’ll grill them well, so you don’t have to worry.”

“With Aria here, I feel reassured.”

“...Do you?”

“I’ll look forward to delicious grilled clams.”

“...”

Aria moved her lips slightly, then went back outside.

Back then, Aria’s stamina was weak and her body frail, but more than that, she was greedy.

Gio’s cooking felt like the essence of human wisdom, and she had stubbornly insisted on being given a role.

‘Back then, I tried hard to get even the role of lighting the campfire from Teacher.

Even if I helped with the cooking, he almost never let me take on anything with a high risk of injury...’

It even made her sulky, thinking he didn’t believe in her competence.

Giovanni tried to take on all the big and small dangerous tasks himself.

It looked like proof of distrust.

Only after he died did she realize.

It was because his young mermaid disciples were so precious that he didn’t want them to get hurt.

That was a separate matter from trust.

“...”

Even so, that young mermaid had eventually won even the role of lighting the campfire.

“Ridiculous.”

That such a pathetic role still remained made her feel as if she were floating, detached from reality.

An unfamiliar sentiment.

Though she had never thrown it away herself, she had thought there would be no way she would ever take on this role again, even after death...

“...”

“Coo?”

“...I told you not to act like we’re close, sir god.”

“Coo-coo-coo.”

“Are you really unfazed?”

The teddy bear sitting by the campfire and clapping was truly trivial.

It was a question in an even, unburdened tone with no special emotion in it, but Aria’s inner thoughts as she looked at the old, faded-colored doll were not so simple.

“Are you really not bothered at all?”

Aria covered the sun with the sea.

“I put a lot of effort into it.

I hated the sun, so I let all of your children sink into the sea.

I didn’t even have the confidence to touch Gio who melted down like water...”

“...”

“Yeah, I didn’t have the courage.

Having felt the emotion called rage for the first time in my life, I wasn’t in my right mind, and I might have made his remains vanish in some way, so I was simply cautious.”

“...”

“And yet, it was you who lost warmth, who lost all your children, from a mermaid’s struggle that couldn’t even live on land... but now, seeing you looking so complacent like this, it’s so absurd and ridiculous.”

Everything was like that.

“Why is it so peaceful?”

This forest, and Gio who owned this place, and the tiny creatures and even the enormous being he kept at his side as family as if playing house—everything was only uselessly peaceful.

Aria looked down at the soft doll that securely held a vast rank.

“Do you not resent me?”

“Coo.”

“That’s why those who call themselves gods are so disgusting.”

You couldn’t expect emotions or exchange from them.

A priest offering sacrifices to a god was almost the only way a human could communicate with a god.

That was how much you couldn’t converse with gods, couldn’t face them, couldn’t understand each other, couldn’t exchange emotions.

So he wouldn’t hold resentment toward a mere mermaid.

“Even emptier than a monster like me.”

And yet they speak of mercy and love—what beings that can hardly fit with it.

“Even tormenting the sun isn’t something just anyone can do, so can’t you show a reaction that feels a bit worthwhile?

Being sad, resenting me, getting annoyed... there are plenty of reactions you could have.”

“Coo-coo-coo...”

“You’re laughing?”

It irritated her.

“...”

Though the grain was quite different from her younger brother’s, which even felt noble, Aria nonetheless muttered while maintaining a gentlemanly smile.

“I didn’t resent you either.”

It was true.

The clever mermaid knew clearly who was at fault.

Greedy fools blinded by honor caused the accident, and she and her brother and Giovanni were simply dragged into it by bad luck.

So if she were to be angry, the target would have been only the nature of humans who easily spoiled and betrayed.

“That world was too horrible.”

No human showed eternity.

Even she, who had become rage itself, loathed it.

“To the point I could only endure if the sky was covered to its end by the sea...”

So that was why.

“...”

“Yes, Father.”

A fact she only learned much later, even as a mermaid, but.

“They say the sun god and the deep-sea god were one body?

In the end, you were my father too.”

“Coo-coo.”

“No, you’re a split existence, so if we get picky, should I call you uncle instead.

What would you like me to call you?”

“Coo-coo.”

“Uncle?

My god, that gives me goosebumps.

I only said that to try it.”

It was a disgustingly peaceful word.

“At this point, even I’m losing my mind.”

It was truly rare.

In all her life of living with a clear mind, there were exactly two times she fell into confusion.

The first was when Gio took the side of Aria, who wasn’t human, and the second was when she confirmed Gio’s corpse whose form couldn’t even be recognized.

And in this dreamlike situation, Aria was becoming confused once again.

“It feels like I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be...”

A bitter laugh slipped out.

“...”

The spring breeze that brushed by was gentle.

“...Stop tickling me.”

“Aria, is it ready?”

“Yes.”

This place was inside the belly of their kind teacher.

That fact felt a little far away.

* * *

“How is it?”

“It’s cooked well.”

After tasting the seasoning of the stew, Gio continued.

“To my palate, it’s a little bland.”

“You used to like spicy things, Teacher...”

“I just eat them without issue; it’s honestly too embarrassing to say I like them.”

Perhaps because the tomatoes were far sweeter than the ones he usually used, it was a bit bland.

Gio took out dried Milky Way Mary from the cabinet, ground it finely, and sprinkled it over the stew he had ladled out.

“Just right.”

It was suitably spicy, suitably stimulating.

It also carried a savory sweetness, along with the saltiness drawn from the aged ham, and thanks to the vegetable stock that had seeped out from various vegetables like carrots, a refined bitterness was added.

“Ah.”

Rustle.

Clack, clack.

Crunch...

“Looks like you like it.”

Whether because Milky Way Mary glittered, or because this too was a fruit.

A few waterbirds flew in from their nest and slipped away with a few Milky Way Mary berries.

Gio turned a blind eye to his friends’ small embezzlement.

‘They’re cute, so it’s fine.’

As long as they didn’t steal at other people’s houses, that was enough.

Gio patted the waterbirds who splashed a greeting, then opened his mouth.

“It’s been a while since I last simmered it, so I was a bit uneasy, but a fairly satisfying stew came out.”

“Haven’t you simmered it separately in the meantime?

You enjoy cooking, Teacher.”

“I was dead, so not really...?”

After all, it was quite recent that ‘Giovanni’ had been layered over Seo Gio.

“...”

“I misspoke, Iser.

Relax your expression.”

“No, it’s me, rather...”

“Calm down.”

There was a bit of commotion, but anyway, the stew truly was satisfying.

“Both the one with clams is good, and the one with meat is good too.

Iser, do you prefer the one with seafood as well?”

“...It’s hard to say anything since I no longer have much that could be called an appetite, but yes.

If I had to choose, the one with seafood still feels far more familiar.”

“For someone without an appetite, you ate those pumpkin-sized tomatoes just fine.”

“That was...”

Perhaps because he had nothing to say, Iser seriously pondered for a moment, then shamelessly replied.

“The tomatoes were delicious.”

“I grew them.”

“As expected of you, Teacher.”

“Of course.”

Whatever mermaids’ general tastes were, Gio liked the one with meat a little more.

‘When I lived in the village, it was definitely hard to get land meat.’

Because it was a seaside village, meat was far more expensive than seafood.

Even as a noble, he was the youngest who received no support, and what little he had he spent buying medical tools or donating, so he couldn’t live lavishly—making meat like this quite welcome.

The sausage meat after removing the casing had been thoroughly cooked in the stew, its texture becoming appropriately soft, and if you simmered it longer at a low temperature, the meat would likely become much more tender.

“Dried meat is dried meat, so it doesn’t soften easily.”

“I like it like this as well...”

“For now, it seems we’re ready to eat dinner.”

With Iser’s help, Gio carried two large pots out into the yard.

Since someone had prepared suitable wooden chairs and even a table—who knew from where—the atmosphere brightened at once.

“Now.”

The stew pots were set beside the campfire.

“Let’s eat.”

“Guruk.”

“Honey, don’t think about going into the pot.”

“Koong-koong-koong...”

“I’m not planning to drink you as broth.”

Scooping up stew with Honey plopped into the pot, Gio put it into a bowl and set it down near the campfire.

Honey began absorbing the stew while still sitting in the bowl.

Since it had all become mushy, you couldn’t tell what was stew and what was Honey.

“Dana, don’t steal your brother’s stew—let’s eat a fresh one.”

“Ryu-jonjonjonjonjonjom?”

“Good.”

Dana, who had been peeking at the bowl Honey had melted into, trotted over with a springy step at Gio’s call and took her place in front of her bowl.

Since the stew seemed to suit both animals’ mouths quite well, the amount was gradually decreasing.

“For those who want to add more aroma, I’ll leave pepper here, so add it as you please.”

When Gio put the finely ground Milky Way Mary on the table, Aria’s head tilted.

“Pepper?”

“Yes, pepper.”

“Isn’t it completely different?”

“The taste is similar.”

“It’s edible, right?”

“Do you think I’d give you something you can’t eat?”

“...”

“Aria?”

After a moment of silence, Aria nodded.

“You weren’t someone who joked around with food, but...”

“Why are you saying something so obvious so seriously?”

“Sometimes your actions are unpredictable, that’s why.”

And it wasn’t because she doubted Gio’s lively charm.

‘It doesn’t look like an ingredient.’

Not that it seemed inedible—it just gave off an air that felt like it would be used as a precious medicinal herb rather than as a minor ingredient used so casually.

In some dimension, they called something like this an elixir.

“...You really find things like this so easily.”

“It blooms all over the forest.”

“Ah, all over?”

“Is there a problem?”

“...”

After looking around, Aria shook her head.

“No, what problem.”

It was a world filled with things so precious that if humans—whose very nature was not bold, but viciously greedy—saw them, their eyes would spin.

If anyone could come and go here freely, problems would certainly arise.

But no matter how humans lacked limits to evolution, they wouldn’t be able to crawl into this terrifying dimension with only vulgar greed.

‘Unless it’s greed close to conviction, they won’t even be able to approach this dimension.

The very idea of humans coveting Teacher’s nest makes me nauseous, but... it almost certainly won’t happen.’

Aria accepted the stew her teacher ladled out, considering the possibility that Giovanni might be persecuted by humans again.

The wooden bowl was very warm.

Warmth spread to the tips of her fingers holding it, and a faint tickle bloomed like a sprout.

“...”

“Is seafood stew alright?”

“Yes, I like this more than land meat.”

The smell stirred the appetite.

She hadn’t thought she was hungry, but when she smelled the stimulating aroma unique to tomato stew, she felt hollow inside.

She wanted to fill that hollow with the stew before her.

It had been a long time since she had thought she wanted to eat something.

Her mind, which had been turning in complicated circles, began to loosen.

‘...Strangely, even if Gio’s cooking has a strong smell, I don’t dislike it.

Now even the notion of preference has faded, but still, for some reason...’

The sound of tableware clinking, coated with gentle warmth that was warm enough to soften her fingertips.

That peaceful, modest murmur tickled her heart with a strange carefulness.

‘Is it because I returned to my hometown.’

Strictly speaking, this place wasn’t even the deep sea, so it wasn’t her hometown, but perhaps because Giovanni was here, she felt a strange nostalgia and atmosphere.

It was a sensation hard to define.

Even while belonging there, it felt like she was a step away, and even though it was time spent together, it felt empty and longed-for, as if it couldn’t be grasped.

This emotion, which she hadn’t even felt in that deep, dark sea, was truly unfamiliar.

‘...He probably hasn’t forgiven us.

And yet he gives this kindness.

To say it’s because he gained divinity and became twisted... Giovanni was... originally this strange, too.’

She felt a prickling at the unfamiliar sensation, enough that she had to clench and unclench her hand several times.

“...”

It felt like it shouldn’t be this comfortable.

She became frighteningly listless, unable to escape this gentle air.

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons

Fantasy, Modern,