“Something a little more of the same?”
“What we will do is the spell of unity. The spell of unity is to utilize unity, as I explained before.”
Consistency can be obtained from two main sources. One is something that was a part of me. Whatever made me up is consistent with me.
And the other one is similar to me.
“Something like me can replace me. Then what was a part of me and what was it like me to become one.”
“The consistency is stronger.”
"Exactly."
The godmother's expression as she nodded at Judith was filled with pride as if she was looking at a disciple who would learn ten things after being taught one.
“I should get something similar to me since I can get anything that was a part of me.”
“But it’s not a doll.”
Erne, who had been quietly listening from the side, joined in the mystery.
“Then is it a portrait?”
The godmother burst into laughter, surprised at Erne's muttering voice as if talking to himself.
“How do you get it right so quickly?”
Usually, she was the one who got the right answer to these questions, but when Erne took that opportunity, Judith looked at him with surprised eyes.
“Because of Zark, no, thanks to him.”
While Judith stopped by Baron Briggs's residence to chat with Layla, Erne strolled through the garden and exchanged idle chatter with Zark.
“Every time we met, we talked about the portrait.”
Recently, Zark has been busy bragging about the portraits of a couple he painted in preparation for their wedding.
“I heard he’s a very famous painter. He draws so similarly that you can’t tell if it’s a painting or the real thing. Well, he drew a tree, and a bird passing by tried to land on it.”
What is it? Judith's mind briefly flashed with cultural knowledge she had learned in her previous life.
“They say that no matter how much money you give them if they don’t get inspiration, they won’t accept the commission.”
“But he managed to accept the request for a portrait of the Baroness and her husband?”
“They say he was inspired when he saw Zark’s face and accepted the offer on the spot.”
Mr. Zark's face is so-so.
Judith nodded absentmindedly and received a glare from Erne.
It seemed to mean, 'How can a married woman nod while thinking of another man's face?' Judith slightly avoided his eyes and ignored him.
“I wish that artist would paint your portrait. The more identical they are, the better the effect.”
“Yes, I will.”
Judith readily agreed to have her portrait painted in front of the godmother, but as soon as she left the godmother's room, she looked troubled.
“You went to capture the priest yourself, instead of the Marquis; I don't think you'll fail, so why don't you paint the portrait?”
“What we will do is the spell of unity. The spell of unity is to utilize unity, as I explained before.”
Consistency can be obtained from two main sources. One is something that was a part of me. Whatever made me up is consistent with me.
And the other one is similar to me.
“Something like me can replace me. Then what was a part of me and what was it like me to become one.”
“The consistency is stronger.”
"Exactly."
The godmother's expression as she nodded at Judith was filled with pride as if she was looking at a disciple who would learn ten things after being taught one.
“I should get something similar to me since I can get anything that was a part of me.”
“But it’s not a doll.”
Erne, who had been quietly listening from the side, joined in the mystery.
“Then is it a portrait?”
The godmother burst into laughter, surprised at Erne's muttering voice as if talking to himself.
“How do you get it right so quickly?”
Usually, she was the one who got the right answer to these questions, but when Erne took that opportunity, Judith looked at him with surprised eyes.
“Because of Zark, no, thanks to him.”
While Judith stopped by Baron Briggs's residence to chat with Layla, Erne strolled through the garden and exchanged idle chatter with Zark.
“Every time we met, we talked about the portrait.”
Recently, Zark has been busy bragging about the portraits of a couple he painted in preparation for their wedding.
“I heard he’s a very famous painter. He draws so similarly that you can’t tell if it’s a painting or the real thing. Well, he drew a tree, and a bird passing by tried to land on it.”
What is it? Judith's mind briefly flashed with cultural knowledge she had learned in her previous life.
“They say that no matter how much money you give them if they don’t get inspiration, they won’t accept the commission.”
“But he managed to accept the request for a portrait of the Baroness and her husband?”
“They say he was inspired when he saw Zark’s face and accepted the offer on the spot.”
Mr. Zark's face is so-so.
Judith nodded absentmindedly and received a glare from Erne.
It seemed to mean, 'How can a married woman nod while thinking of another man's face?' Judith slightly avoided his eyes and ignored him.
“I wish that artist would paint your portrait. The more identical they are, the better the effect.”
“Yes, I will.”
Judith readily agreed to have her portrait painted in front of the godmother, but as soon as she left the godmother's room, she looked troubled.
“You went to capture the priest yourself, instead of the Marquis; I don't think you'll fail, so why don't you paint the portrait?”
“Are you concerned about spending money on a portrait?”
“Wow, Erne, now you're pretending.”
“Miss Harrington, you’re not pretending anymore.”
Portraits, especially couple portraits, are only painted by nobles. It is not even a law that only nobles can paint couple portraits, so why do they have to paint portraits?
“Portraits aren’t expensive.”
It's because of the price. The artist who painted the portraits of Layla and Zark won't be paid for anything. In fact, he might be paid more.
“There is a one in a million chance. Just go and draw.”
A portrait? Erne didn't want to do something so embarrassing. But for Judith's safety, there were times when he couldn't do it.
Even though Erne can block physical attacks, he cannot do anything about magical attacks, so he must be on guard.
Erne's only blessing was that the priest had misunderstood and was targeting him instead of Judith.
“If you try to save a few pennies, you’ll regret it later.”
Judith, whose thoughts were seen through, scratched her head.
By the way, this situation makes me feel strangely uneasy. Hey, I've tried to save money more than once.
Judith, who had been dismissing the awkwardness as nothing serious, spoke cautiously.
The feeling of awkwardness may not be a big deal, but the money that goes into a portrait is.
“But if you catch the priest, it’ll all be over. I told them the exact location, so there’s no way they'd miss it, right?”
***
I missed it.
“This is at a level where even if you feed it to it, it’ll spit it out.”
When Cain came into the incense shop with an ashen face, it was indeed bad news.
“How could the operation fail even though I gave you the exact number of people and locations? Huh?”
“I have no face.”
Cain, who had to come and deliver the results of the operation, did not have time to enjoy the joy of being released from confinement.
He shrugged his shoulders at Erne's cold gaze and took out his money pouch one by one.
Then he called out to Henry, who was looking at him with sympathy, and whispered.
“Please give me all the incense sticks in the display case. I don’t need change.”
“Yes, Marquis.”
As Henry took the gold coins and began to sweep the incense sticks from the shelf, Judith, who had been quiet, patted Cain on the shoulder.
“Don’t be so hard on him, Erne. The Marquis didn’t even go to catch him himself.”
“...”
How consistent. So consistent. Go away, pine tree. My wife is a pine tree. Should I be happy about this or not?
Taking advantage of the moment when Erne was too distracted to respond, Judith asked Cain.
“But why did you miss that deal?”
“The Followers risked their lives to protect the priest.”
Gelard surrounded the villa where the Followers were staying and waited.
They also need to eat to live, so they will definitely come out to find food.
“Knowing that, they carried out a diversionary operation.”
About twenty men rushed out to break through the encirclement. Taking advantage of the soldiers crowding there, the rest of the Followers began to flee in the opposite direction.
Gelard was an experienced knight. He also anticipated that the Followers might protect the priest and engage in this kind of sabotage.
“You expected it, so why didn’t you catch it?”
“They almost caught him. They say they saw the priest running away and chased after him with the knights, but they stopped him by breaking the poisoned jar.”
The moment the poisoned jar was broken, the poisonous insects and venom inside burst out at once, blocking the knights' path.
Even the knights who were far away were not able to escape the poison's influence, so how could the Followers who broke the complex be safe?
They too were poisoned and died in agony. Even so, they prevented the Knights from pursuing the priest until their last breath.
“But that guy called the priest.”
“What is that guy?”
When Cain frowned and paused for a moment, Erne urged him on.
“He said he laughed as he looked back at his fellow addicts dying.”
“Does he laugh when he sees that?”
"He's seriously crazy," Erne muttered.
He wasn't exactly a very sympathetic person, but he couldn't understand why the Priest would smile while watching people die because of him.
“Still, we arrested all of them except for the eight who escaped, including the priest.”
Although the number of dead was close to twenty, it was enough to shake the roots of the group that was plotting a rebellion within the main group of Followers.
“The priest couldn’t have run far, madam. There’s a wanted poster for him and the movement ban is still in effect, so we should be able to catch up soon.”
Cain had told Judith to be at ease, but Judith was not entirely at ease. From what she heard from Tia, Shadin was quite fond of the poisonous jars of solitary magic.
Because that's the foundation of business.
But this time, while running away, he broke nearly twenty of them.
What this means is that they have cut off the livelihood of a man who doesn't even bat an eye when his subordinates die.
Judith imagined someone cutting off her livelihood and then let out a short sigh.
“The priest must have been really angry.”
They say that even a mouse will bite a cat when cornered. But what if it's Shadin?
“...I should go draw a portrait.”
***
Judith and Erne went to find the painter Vincero, who had painted Layla's portrait.
It was not easy to meet him as he was a painter with such great fame that even Cain knew about him.
To meet him, I had to first talk to his secretary, who was...
“The House of the Counts of Rhineland? I’ve heard of them before, but I’ve also never heard of them before.”
He tried to refuse the portrait commission, saying that the family's prestige was inferior to the painter's reputation or something like that.
However, Judith's pride was hurt when she was treated coldly by her family, which had a reputation as a cursed family.
At that moment, Judith, who happened to see Binchero coming out of the workshop, called out to him loudly.
“Mr. Binchero, I’ve come to commission a portrait!”
When he heard his name, Binchero unconsciously turned his head and looked at Judith, then shook his index finger from side to side.
“I feel so inspired... Huh?”
Binchero, who had been shaking his head at the sight of Judith, met Erne's eyes as he slowly took off his robe hood, and collapsed on the ground.
“Inspiration, inspiration! Where have you been, my muse?”
Erne let out a laugh as if he was used to this kind of reaction.
“Oh dear, I should have come forward from the beginning. I’ve just ended up giving Miss Harrington a sore throat.”
What is this new bad luck?
Previous Next
Support Novellate!
Comments
Post a Comment