1371: Chapter 1367: Stunning Scenery 1371: Chapter 1367: Stunning Scenery “The Ever-Hunted Saintess Maria”
One of Siberia’s breathtaking sights and, at the sa ti, one of the Red Star Republic’s highly classified archival forbidden areas.
It is said that once a legendary strongman ca here with an engineering brigade in search of ore…
but in the end, they found only fragnts.
Lu Ping’an stretched out his hands, making a cara-clicking gesture.
And between those hands was the still-weeping humanoid figure.
In just over ten minutes, the sa scene had occurred three tis…
each ti, her state of death was different, the only commonality being the “cries” and “despair” that seed to stem from an extraordinary invasion.
In an endeavor to gather more intelligence, Lu Ping’an released batches of dogs equipped with insulation devices, watching as so went mad after screaming in agony.
Others went mad beforehand, trying to rescue the woman pursued by the beast swarm, and then were torn to shreds by the monsters.
This eagerness from ow wasn’t exceptional, even Lu Ping’an felt an urge to “rush to the rescue.”
He could even sense that this was an elent of the extraordinary.
“…
Is this a trap?”
If it was a trap, its efficiency was rather peculiar.
“No, she just longs for redemption.
It’s just that her emotions have ‘infected’ the mortals around her.”
Big Cat sighed and spoke thus.
She had almost figured everything out.
This was a scene from the doomsday, also the final scene of the “Saintess” at her life’s end.
Obviously, she, or it, had experienced doomsday, and what unfolded before them was presumably a replay of her last monts.
Whatever powers she had obtained, she was clearly trapped on the sa day.
“Is she rational?
Can we communicate?”
“Probably not, probably already dead.
Even if not dead, she would be hopelessly insane by now.
Just remnants at this point.”
In Chris’s judgnt, this was the residue of a “high contamination source,” a bizarre origin continuously displaying its own doomsday finale.
Redemption?
Already completely mutated into monsters, and then monsters that turned to debris decades or even a century ago.
With what could one redeem it?
It just kept repeating itself, like an automated playback tape…
“….
Seems like a wasted trip.”
Chris let out a sigh.
The monster’s strength was not low, but since those “demons” might not even be alive, the chances of their genes being usable were too slim.
“No, I think it can be used…”
Completely relaxing the “cara” gesture, Lu Ping’an silently set up an easel and began sketching in a scene incomprehensible to others.
Chris walked over, and with just one glance was stunned…
“The painting is really terrible…”
Lu Ping’an paused for a mont and said helplessly, looking down.
“….
As long as the aning gets across, that’s fine.
You know, the focus is always on who is writing (painting), and what is being written into it….”
“….
Though the skill is terrible, the emotional quality is not bad, that kind of complete desperate despair.
Heh, looks like you had it rough back in the day as well.”
Little Chris shook her head and swished her tail, showing a surprisingly discerning eye.
In the “painting” before them by Lu Ping’an, raw and crude, with black signifying death, grey representing despair and numbness, and white for the world—when the entire world was rendered in such simplistic colors and rough lines, the whole thing looked like a re doodle.
Yet, under the “rendering” of Lu Ping’an, the Painter…
a Sixth-tier Scholar, anyone could feel the contained despair and…
“Hopes?
There’s no redemption for it, it’s already gone.”
“Heh, what a painter draws in his painting doesn’t necessarily only exist within the painting…
Whether it has no salvation has nothing to do with , but what I am—”
Watching the “little guy” beside him who had co to his senses and was now baring his teeth and grimacing, Lu Ping’an shrugged his shoulders.
The remaining words, “I am one saved by the hope in despair,” were too ironic, so he simply skipped them.
But at this mont, Lu Ping’an indeed recorded the scene of despair and imbued it with his own hope.
“Scene?”
“Yep, but it’s not just that…”
It wasn’t hard to guess; Lu Ping’an’s first core combat ability was the “scene.”
Yet, the previous scenes were part of the Gardener’s path, only suited for Magic Plants, and were too “realistic”… At the level of combat Lu Ping’an was currently engaged in, just stacking up a dozen Magic Plants was aningless.
He simply borrowed that part of the career ability to create a “blank space,” then wrote his own content into it.
“Moon God?”
“Heh, you can’t hide anything from you, can you?”
Within the courtyard, that World Fragnt “mirror” was digested by more than half again.
In Lu Ping’an’s eyes, both the posture and the despair of the “Naless Strongman” were reflected; he easily “copied” this “despair.”
Understand, imitate, copy, and then rewrite.
The concept was simple and direct, and now, with the combination of three paths, “Gardener,” “Scholar,” and “Runner,” Lu Ping’an could fulfill his wish.
Lu Ping’an painted happily, with more and more despairing gray erging, a color of sorrow and desperate straits, and also the color of monsters.
Death, even more death, Lu Ping’an casually took out a golden cup, transforming the liquid’s black color into materials representing corpses and death.
A painter is capable of drawing things that don’t exist.
One after another, corpses, bodies, and severed limbs of that woman’s kin, appeared on the canvas.
In the end, a vast expanse of white, the color of snow, devoured everything, providing the most rciless numbness and response.
No rescue, no hope, not even a second living being.
And in the center of the painting, where a woman was supposed to be crying, Lu Ping’an didn’t lift his brush…
He even added the sound of her crying, but he had not yet added his own figure.
“Do you plan to finish it off with the dragon’s eye, taking your ti?”
Watching the elated Lu Ping’an in front of her, Chris was sowhat surprised; it was also the first ti she had seen such a pleased expression on Lu Ping’an.
In that complex expression, there was so frustration, so helplessness, perhaps a sense of powerlessness towards reality.
But the slightly upturned corners of his mouth seed to also carry a bit of pride, so satisfaction…
“The importance of the core doesn’t need to be overstated; it’s directly related to your success or failure, it’s good to be cautious…”
The next second, Lu Ping’an simply put down the pen.
“I know its importance, and I am aware of my own level, so I hadn’t planned to draw…”
So, how are you going to solve it?
Just when even Big Cat, who had seen and known a wide world, was dumbfounded, Lu Ping’an moved on.
He walked straight towards the Witch weeping amid her despair, transford into a Giant with one step, beca a blaze with another, and with another step, beca the avatar of war and death.
“…So, dragging her into the painting solves everything, doesn’t it?”
[Host, you have acquired the mixed profession, Painter of Despair, predicted profession strength Upper Silver…]
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