"Another world?"
Annand imdiately beca sowhat interested, "Can you tell more?"
Nigel substituted tea for wine and took a small sip.
He then sighed and began to recount to Annan the story of his journey from the beginning:
"At first, I received a letter from an old friend. He helped out a lot when I had just returned to the world of art... He is a wizard and a well-known artist within the industry, a student of the legendary ’Eye of Lag.’
"When I ca back to the art world, I was sorely lacking in fa. I had considerable confidence in my paintings at that ti—after all, they were ones that Yawen had deed ’acceptable.’
"But in the end, they were only ’acceptable,’ not ’very good’ or ’nice.’ My skin wasn’t thick enough to exploit Yawen’s slight praise to promote myself under his na.
"If you have no fa, you can’t sell your work for what it’s worth. The only people who would buy the paintings were so art-appreciative nobles from the countryside. I had to sell so paintings to save up enough money to open a gallery.
"Only then could my reputation truly be established—I was ready for the fact that I wouldn’t make a na for myself for the first two years after returning to the arts. Not until I had saved enough money to open a gallery and invite critics... or until a connoisseur saw these paintings of mine at a noble gathering."
It was all up to that to make a na for myself.
The artist Nigel spoke so.
In his plain, humble words, there was actually a hidden absolute confidence in himself.
Although he said, "I dare not promote myself under Yawen’s na," Nigel knew the true level of his paintings. He believed that any true connoisseur who saw his painting in another noble’s ho would undoubtedly recognize what level of artist he was.
All it took was one noble willing to sponsor him. With his talent, he could effortlessly soar to great heights.
"But just then, I t him... a traveling wizard from Frigid Wight Tower. He couldn’t stop praising my work and spontaneously offered three tis my asking price to take the painting ho.
"Not two months later, nobles from the Royal Capital travelled all the way to my hotown, eager to buy my paintings for a large sum. Only then did I realize how he had helped ."
"What is the na of your friend?"
Annan inquired.
"Rafaelo Santi. That’s his na."
Nigel responded promptly: "He’s about a decade older than . But unlike , he was born into an artist family. His parents are followers of the Stone Father and Paper Princess... His father is a renowned architect in the United Kingdom, and his mother is a painter from Noah—one of the artists whose works I studied and imitated when I was teaching myself to paint in my youth.
"But he was sent to study the art of wizardry in Winter when he was very young. Because his father told him, ’The skills of sculpting have their limits—the energy and physical strength of a person, the quality of the stone, all affect the final piece. A truly perfect sculpture is only possible with the mastery of the Idol and Shaping schools of spells.’
"So he went to the White Tower to focus on studying spells. And in his thirties, he beca a silver-ranked grand wizard, graduated smoothly... and began to devote himself to studying art."
Nigel earnestly expressed his feelings: "I really envy him, and I am very grateful to him. For , he is one of the few friends I truly want to associate with. Therefore, even after I beca famous, even more famous than Rafaelo, I still frequently wrote letters to him.
"Although my mother is a ritualist, I don’t know any rituals. My experience in painting constantly reminds that I do not have the talent to make a na for myself with ease in different fields like those prodigies.
"All I have is hard work. The art of this era is constantly developing, and I don’t even need to take a step backward... Just by stopping, I would soon be left behind."
"Because it took a full two decades of seclusion and wholehearted study to finally comprehend this experience. If it were those with talent, perhaps only fifteen years, or even ten years—if they had enough money to spare themselves so work ti, perhaps only five or six years would be needed to surpass .
"I didn’t have the energy to delve into anything else. And with my talent, I was far from mastering the skills of a ritualist through short-term learning..."
Without sufficient proficiency, it would only be an embarrassnt.
Nigel’s self-esteem as a distinguished painter, coupled with his sufficiently calm and rational assessnt of his own abilities, ant he had no intention of venturing into the ritualist profession.
He knew very well that ritualists crave talent and accumulation even more so than painters; hence, he wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to cross that boundary.
"So, we always corresponded by letter. Not knowing where he had traveled to, I could only send my letter to a contact point in Winter... It was a place he would often return to, and might as well be considered his ho.
"We would receive one or two letters from each other almost every year, but eting face to face was much more troubleso. It was for this reason that he wrote to ... hoping I could make a trip to Winter to paint so ’things he was incapable of depicting correctly.’
"He promised a handso reward, including a villa in Winter. That is why I chose this ti to sell all my properties in Noah to repay the debt I owed to Paper Princess."
Of course, over the years, what he had accumulated far exceeded the debt he owed back then—a debt that was many tis over, even hundreds of tis more.
But what Nigel was repaying was not the ager living expenses he had received in exchange for sacrificial offerings of unsellable poor paintings to Paper Princess... it was the money to sustain his "dream."
It was precisely because he owed Paper Princess so much that he persisted through his tears when criticized by Yawen.
That was the initial spark that had allowed him to embark on this path and not give up.
"I arrived at the agreed-upon Frigid Wight Tower and, under the introduction of Rafaelo Santi, t Earl Felix. He gave a commission... to enter the depths of ’Furnace Mountain’ through a secret passage and depict the form of ’the world’s wound.’
"—At that mont, I thought he wanted to murder ."
Nigel said with a residual fear in his heart.
Anyone who had traveled thousands of miles to a foreign land, only to be told with a smile that they would be sent to the bottom of an active volcano... would feel like they had been deceived and that their life might be in jeopardy.
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"And indeed, when I descended into the depths of ’Furnace Mountain’ through that deep well... I discovered a magnificent sight I had never seen before."
Nigel murmured in a dreamy tone, "It truly was the ’world’s wound.’
"I truly saw the ends of the world—where all colors faded away, where no material existed. At a glance, I could easily see ’beyond the world.’
"It was a realm of chaos where no material possessed a fixed form. Only by intuiting ’beauty’ could one just manage to discern their essence.
"That was... living flas and light held captive. I lost my sanity at that mont, and when I awoke, the painting was complete.
"It was my proudest work, one that could never be replicated. I felt my passion, skills, and sothing else had all poured into that painting... I could never paint it again in my lifeti.
"Simply by uncovering the canvas that hangs over it, every piece of paper and fiber in the room would spontaneously combust. Every mirror would flash its fierce light all at once, as if the imprisoned light within their depths struggled to escape."
Nigel looked at Annan with utter certainty, speaking words difficult to comprehend, "It is a ’light’ that is exceedingly similar to the light within you."
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