Limited Extra Time - Chapter 189

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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He gave her back a light push, shoving her toward the entrance that had opened in the floor.

“Kyaaah!”

As she screamed at the sensation of the ground dropping away beneath her, Karsan Erha laughed softly.

“You truly are faint of heart.”

“…I cannot understand you. Why do you do such things? In such a beautiful and peaceful land.”

“Beautiful? Peaceful? Perhaps it appears so now. But our history was far from beautiful. We were nomads who suffered invasions from demons, barely surviving each day by extracting the sap from cacti to sustain ourselves.”

Karsan Erha, having returned to the Castle, now began descending the underground staircase. It was clear he had decided to confine her completely to this place.

Otherwise, he would never have shown Carina Leopold—an outsider—things that could be considered shameful secrets.

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“But look at us now. This nation, created by the First Shah who received the blessing of the God of Art, has become so mighty and beautiful.”

Perhaps the First Shah had begun all of this with good intentions. It was possible that it had become corrupted over time.

But this was undeniably wrong.

Children born into this world endured being overworked, their worth reduced to a single numerical score.

Living in a world evaluated solely by art, they naturally had no choice but to dedicate their lives to sculpture.

The manifestation of miracles likely occurred for that very reason.

“All of this culture, which seems as though it has existed for hundreds or thousands of years, was begun by the First Shah and continues to this day. Someday, I too shall leave behind a great masterpiece.”

“…”

“And this place is where I shall set you

free.”

He descended the entire underground staircase and threw open the door.

Carina Leopold’s eyes widened. A sweet fragrance permeated the vast plaza-like space.

“Uhhhhh…”

A massive circle was drawn on the floor, and within it, the sick and unconscious were intermingled, giggling deliriously as though intoxicated by drugs. None of them possessed sound minds.

“What is this?”

“I offer their life force in place of my own as the price of miracles. Since these people have little time left to live anyway, wouldn’t it be more fulfilling for them to perish serving the nation rather than waste away meaninglessly?”

“…You’re insane.”

“…For someone so sensitive, your tongue is rather crude. You hurt my feelings at times.”

I wanted to ask if he thought curses wouldn’t spill out.

Did this man truly comprehend what he claimed to be sacrificing as the price—

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Does this Movement Miracle Artist know what’s going on?

“This is all something they desired. As you’ve seen, those who didn’t wish for this are all on the surface. This fragrance is a mixture of hallucinogens and painkillers so they won’t suffer as much.”

The thought that their lives had seeped into This Land made every sight repulsive.

Despite breathing in the pleasant aroma, my stomach churned.

“So what did you gain from all this?”

“What do you mean?”

“What did you gain by taking so many lives? Beautiful scenery? Magnificent sculptures? So what? Are those more important than human lives and the lives of our people?”

“…It’s important. Isn’t developing the nation the most important thing in the world?”

“Would you really want to use it like this even if it cost you your life?”

“Of course, I would accept it gladly. If I believed I had contributed to a beautiful work of art.”

Madness upon madness—utterly, irredeemably mad.

When the king descends into madness, so too does his nation.

If only they could find happiness elsewhere, in something other than art, there would be so many greater joys available to them. Yet they clung to this alone.

“I find you pleasing. So I wish for you to love my country as well.”

Karsan Erha brought her hand to his lips, speaking those words.

Carina Leopold withdrew her hand with cold, merciless precision.

“I’ve told you this many times, but it seems you still don’t understand, so I’ll say it once more. I have a Fiancé. And I don’t approve of this method. Furthermore, I have no desire whatsoever to complete my paintings by wielding the lives of others as weapons. Do you understand?”

“…And you, it seems, cannot understand me at all.”

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“I’m unable to help you.”

Karsan Erha’s eyes darkened slightly. Was it the shadows cast by the subtle light filtering through? The atmosphere felt strangely ominous.

“I simply don’t wish to reduce my country to a minor power. I want my people to escape this Desert and live stable lives.”

“By exploiting them? How can you do this when you know how miserable Art Sickness is?”

“You… it seems you require some education after all. Very well. If you’re so concerned about them, remain here. Once you experience firsthand how desperately they wish to serve their nation, you’ll understand.”

“…What.”

“Carina Leopold, I have tried to treat you well. I hold your abilities in the highest regard.”

Karsan Erha reached out and gently brushed her cheek. A cool sensation sent a shiver down her spine.

“They are here because they wish to be. And you… you’ve lived in the Empire too long and have been restraining yourself. Carina Leopold, you need to become more free.”

As he spoke, Karsan Erha pushed her deeper inward, toward the center of the vast chamber.

He turned his body.

“You are a great artist. You must paint. You—creating—will be more beautiful than anything.”

“…ya.”

Carina Leopold called to him in a small voice, her eyes rolling slowly.

She placed the unfamiliar syllables on her tongue again and again, murmuring them inwardly before releasing a short breath.

Steeling herself, she forced out the words that Millaiyen had once spoken when he lacked confidence.

“X damn it.”

“….”

She strode forward and pushed him

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back, then shut the door with her own hands instead.

“Ugh….”

Then she quickly crouched down, burying her flushed face into her knees with rapid breaths.

Her heart pounded as though she had uttered something forbidden, her fingertips trembling.

Her eyes darted about.

“I’m not a bad person.”

Clearly, the one who had created this situation was the one who had lost their mind.

Carina Leopold exhaled sharply and sprang to her feet.

Madness surrounded her on all sides. The stale, musty odor that permeated the air was deeply unsettling.

“…First, I should rejoin Millaiyen.”

Or should I resolve this situation first?

It was presumptuous of me, perhaps, but leaving things as they were didn’t seem like the right approach.

The Art Plague was certainly a disease that needed to disappear, and seeking life force—the price of performing miracles—from such strange sources was something that should never be done.

“What could I possibly do about this?”

By now, everyone in this country must be living with the same mindset as Karsan.

Perhaps for them, living this way was happiness itself.

“Is there truly no way to eliminate the Art Plague?”

I wished such a disease would simply vanish from the world entirely.

‘Wait, wasn’t it supposed to disappear if one simply stopped creating art?’

If one abandoned art for a lifetime, perhaps freedom could be obtained.

‘Now that I look more carefully… is this an Archive?’

Enormous bookshelves filled the space

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completely. Old books covered in dust were stacked everywhere.

“Could I create a sword?”

How wonderful it would be if there existed a sword or some divine artifact that could cure the Art Plague. If I could paint it into existence, that would be ideal.

But I had no information.

Thud.

A single book rolled toward her as she pondered.

Carina Leopold narrowed her brow as she reached for the book

I picked it up. I couldn’t fathom how such an angular book had rolled all the way here.

“…’Art Sickness and Miracles: Complete in One Volume’? Author: Atelier?”

She carefully shifted her steps to examine the book in a slightly brighter spot.

“…This book is rather crude.”

The plain cover bore only the title embossed in gold leaf.

Compared to the other dust-laden books surrounding it, this one had accumulated surprisingly little dust—a detail that struck me as odd.

Even a sense of bewilderment crossed my mind.

Moreover, it was impossibly thin. I found myself questioning whether this could even be called a book.

It was scarcely thicker than a moderately thick notebook.

[I am a being who knows Art Sickness exceedingly well. I also know Miracles intimately. Why? Because I am a great and magnificent existence.

If by chance you are someone who has faced hardship due to Art Sickness, or been trapped in a crisis, or foreseen a future where Art Sickness brings death, I earnestly urge you to read this without fail.

I hope anyone who has faced such circumstances or foreseen a future of dying from artistic obsession will definitely read this.

As the title proclaims, this single volume concludes everything regarding Art Sickness and Miracles.]

Carina Leopold’s expression darkened.

“Is this a fraudulent book?”

How could anything possibly be concluded in such a thin volume?

Carina Leopold exhaled a sigh.

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Yet since I was trapped here with nothing else to do, I reasoned that even nonsense might contain some useful kernel of truth. With that thought, I dutifully turned the page.

[First, if you are reading this book, you must be a person of desperate longing. What I wish to convey above all is this: those capable of manifesting Miracles must never forget that they were born with artistic talent because they have received the profound love of the great God of Art.]

Carina Leopold closed her mouth and shut the book, examining its cover.

“Is it a cult book after all?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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