Glorious God Throne

[Wait, wait! What just happened?]

[If I understand correctly, from the moment they entered Worsey Castle, they entered the world within the painting. As they continue, their memories will be assimilated and they’ll completely become people inside the painting.]

[…And then, like the “father” the little girl mentioned, they’ll be repeatedly skinned and bled, used up and restored over and over in the painting, becoming paper and paint?]

[Given the background of the Cursed Painting, it was created by the artist using his wife and daughter. There’s reason to suspect that the more people sealed inside the painting, the more powerful it becomes. The apparent skinning and bleeding is actually repeatedly draining the souls of those trapped inside, strengthening the curse’s power.]

[Hiss—So you’re saying their fate was sealed from the moment they entered the castle.]

[The Cursed Painting must have some strange power to cloud perception. The longer they stay in the painting, the easier they are to assimilate. That’s why they forgot their true origins and thought of themselves as adventurers seeking shelter. I suspect if they waited longer, they would be assimilated even deeper, perhaps even thinking themselves the castle owner’s siblings, settling in permanently…]

[There are so many experts in the comments section speaking so eloquently, while I’ve been watching from start to finish just screaming for help. Is this the difference in intelligence between people? Or did humans evolve quietly again without me knowing? Wuwuwuwu!]

[Although I don’t quite understand, it seems to make sense.]

[So, what’s the current situation?]

[Wait, if I remember correctly, isn’t this the extraordinary who took away the Nameless Faceless God statue before? Now he’s here with the Cursed Painting, and he seems very familiar with it. Could it be that this was his possession all along?]

[I’m okay with the classical beauty!]

The livestream comments hadn’t stopped since Joey appeared.

Until the entire castle, along with the overcast sky outside, began to distort and transform, falling from three dimensions to two, as if an infinitely large painting encompassing heaven and earth was manifesting. The livestream screen began to violently distort and flicker.

The formless space churned like turbulent waves, making all those watching the livestream dizzy, as if someone was stirring their brains, their vision becoming blurry. Only a few people with higher than normal spiritual sensitivity could still watch normally.

The blood covering the entire world surged toward Joey, dissolving and devouring everything in its path. Bloody ghost faces, thorns, and clusters of blood-red burning roses floated in the sea of blood. Countless images appeared simultaneously, rushing toward one person from all directions, as if wanting to pierce through him, crush him, and burn him to ashes.

The continuously manifesting painting seemed to want to wrap around him.

Joey stood motionless, while the surging blood sea stirred up waves of air around him, making his short cloak and silk-like black hair flutter.

He suddenly raised his hand, and a scroll silently appeared in it.

Whoosh—

The sound of the scroll being unfurled rang out, as if an illusory piece of paper spread out from beneath Joey’s feet, extending toward the distant horizon on one end and toward the mother and daughter in the castle on the other.

Where the white paper spread, five-colored light danced upon it, with an extremely alluring dreamlike atmosphere floating about, dyeing even the burning deep red blood sea with seven-colored hues.

Those with high spiritual sensitivity could vaguely see an illusory dining table being drawn between Joey and the mother-daughter pair, with Joey at one end and them at the other.

Around them, the surging grotesque blood sea and the rainbow-colored flames jumping within the blood intertwined and devoured each other, neither giving an inch.

Two paintings seemed to overlap in the space between heaven and earth, with their contents constantly encroaching onto each other’s canvas.

For a moment, they were evenly matched.

The woman in the black long dress had a flash of surprise in her eyes. “This is… ‘The Last Supper’?”

“Oh, so you recognize it. That’s perfect.” Joey sat down at the illusory dining table, leisurely propping up his elbow, admiring the surging blood sea and colored flames crushing against each other, the two paintings frantically pulling at each other in the space between heaven and earth.

His gaze turned to the mother and daughter across from him, and he made a gesture inviting them to sit. “I’ve been looking forward to a scene like this for a long time.”

“…After all, it’s my most proud work to date. I’ve always wanted to test which one is more worthy of being the Association’s highest treasure – this or ‘The Sabbath’.”

He spoke calmly, his voice carrying a light laugh, those pitch-black pupils showing an extremely simple purity.

“Thank you for fulfilling this wish of mine.”

The woman’s expression grew increasingly grave.

— ‘The Last Supper’ was merely one of this person’s works, a tiny part of his power, but ‘The Sabbath’ contained all of their power, the only refuge for the mother and daughter’s souls.

Though these two paintings appeared evenly matched in their display, it didn’t mean this man had no other ways to deal with them. He had many more methods at his disposal, and if he wasn’t just trying to test how powerful his own work could be, the attack they faced would certainly be far greater than this.

Thinking this, she, as an evil spirit, couldn’t help feeling despair. She felt the small hand holding hers unconsciously tighten its grip, the little girl’s tension and fear transmitted to the woman’s heart through this tiny action.

…Were they really going to be captured and returned, forever confined in a small scroll, never to see the light of day again?

The illusory painted world was collapsing, cracks spreading through the surrounding space, countless colored flames burning within the cracks, vaguely revealing glimpses of the real world outside.

…No, impossible! Absolutely impossible!

The despair that had been spreading since Joey’s arrival finally exploded completely. The mother and daughter’s pupils instantly turned completely black, fragments of memory from their day of death seemed to flash through their minds again. Emotions at their extreme transformed into a terrifying spiritual storm, spreading outward with the two at its center.

The despair and hatred of being killed by a beloved husband; the fear and unwillingness of having all blood drained by one’s own father, lying like a broken doll, feeling one’s body temperature getting colder and colder, slowly approaching death in a cramped studio; the darkness and loneliness of being confined in a painting for decades, and the despair of being captured again just after finally escaping confinement… All these negative emotions exploded in an instant, becoming the best nourishment for ‘The Sabbath’, igniting an extremely intense spirituality.

Boom!

The distorted spiritual waves continued to spread outward, their pitch-black eyes consumed by hatred and despair seemed to contain only irrational madness. The mother and daughter’s forms instantly dissolved, merging with the entire painted world, becoming paper and paint.

As they dissolved, endless blood seemed to gush from their bodies, flowing toward the entire world.

The crimson blood flames suddenly blazed up, overwhelming the rainbow colors in an instant. Taking advantage of this moment of suppression, the illusory ‘The Sabbath’ painting quickly withdrew like a swimming fish, along with the mother and daughter’s portraits within it retreating at lightning speed, everything becoming illusory and dim.

It was as if among two paintings laid on a table, the one underneath was suddenly pulled away quickly and completely rolled up.

“Stay.”

A finger suddenly appeared, pressing down on a corner of the painting.

— The youth, now floating in mid-air, firmly pressed down on a corner of the increasingly ethereal painting in mid-air, preventing its escape.

In his pitch-black pupils, deep and rich silver spread out, seeming to emit an invisible mental wave that commanded this illusory world. This also made the rapidly retreating painting pause in mid-air, trembling. It seemed to want to resist his command but ultimately couldn’t.

The entire illusory world had become completely chaotic. The confused space and multicolored blocks were like an overturned palette smeared on blank paper. Joey moved through the multicolored blocks and pulled along the pressed-down painting.

Swoosh—

‘The Sabbath’, which had almost successfully escaped and hidden itself in the color blocks, was suddenly pulled out by him.

The flat painting transformed from two dimensions to three as it unfurled. Quickly, everything within became three-dimensional again.

The ancient castle, blood-stained floors and walls, the mother-daughter pair who had regained their forms, and the uninvited guest. Everything seemed to have returned to how it was at the beginning.

What differed from then was the mother and daughter’s condition.

— The blood in their bodies seemed to have been completely drained, leaving them pale and limp in a corner of the castle, looking like paper dolls someone had made.

The madness ignited by hatred and despair faded from their eyes, replaced by undisguised terror.

— Joey had literally beaten them back to their senses.

Madame Worsey in her black dress stared incredulously at the silver color still lingering in the young man’s eyes, remembering the feeling of being forced to materialize against their will moments ago.

“Such terrifying spiritual power…”

…Was this person still even “human”?

“Game over, and the winner is—’The Last Supper’!” Joey announced cheerfully. He stood up and walked toward the motionless mother and daughter who had lost all their power. “Now then, it’s time to go back. You’ve been out playing long enough while I was dormant, haven’t you?”

He had been using the singular “you” instead of “you all,” as if his conversation partner all along wasn’t the mother-daughter pair but rather ‘The Sabbath’, which he called the dark ritual. This matter-of-fact arrogance was incredibly irritating.

“No!” The little girl glared with angry eyes. She lay limply in the corner, her powerless small hands gripping the floor tightly, her eyes burning with fierce anger as she glared at the youth. “I won’t go back with you!”

“Eh?” Joey made an ambiguous sound. As if discovering something interesting, his gaze moved from the little girl’s angry eyes to the woman beside her.

Madame Worsey gripped her daughter’s hand with what strength she had left. “I refuse too. We won’t go back with you!”

The person watching them fell into an eerie silence for three seconds.

Then, he could no longer hold back his laughter. Though his tone was gentle, it carried an unusual cruelty. “What are you talking about! Artworks should stay properly in the Association’s collection room. Don’t tell me you thought I was asking for your opinion?”

As he said this, Joey’s smiling lips suddenly straightened into a line.

He reached out his hand, and a corner of the castle suddenly became flat, curling toward him like a turned page, vaguely revealing a painting scroll’s roller. The man, now floating in mid-air, bent down to look at this painting. He grabbed the roller and rolled up the entire world that had become a painting.

“Artworks should know their place as artworks. You don’t have the right to go wherever you want anymore!”

The pulled painting trembled violently, desperately resisting. Two female voices, one mature and one childish, overlapped as they emerged from it.

“No! We are living people, not some artwork to be manipulated! We’d rather destroy this painting than go back!” During the violent trembling, a crack began spreading along the roller, as if about to tear the entire painting apart.

Joey suddenly gripped the roller tightly, rich silver spreading in his eyes, transforming into invisible mental power that continuously expanded. Then, the painting’s trembling grew weaker and weaker.

The mother and daughter’s furiously struggling expressions gradually faded.

“So that’s what you think?” A strange smile appeared on his face. “Don’t tell me… you actually believe you’re the wife and daughter killed by ‘The Sabbath’s’ creator, turned into evil spirits and sealed within this painting after death?”

“Aren’t we?”

“Hahahahaha, of course not! Don’t be ridiculous! Before me, no one could seal spirits into artworks!” As if hearing some hilarious joke, Joey suddenly burst into laughter. When it came to the realm of art, he seemed to become a different person, showing an indescribable arrogance and madness. “You’re really overestimating him too much!”

He issued a contemptuous mockery of his predecessor, then asked. “Just one question, do you have all your memories from when you were alive? Or do you only remember the day you died?”

The memories of death played repeatedly in her mind—that deep hatred, that deep unwillingness, that madness wanting to destroy everything—all became the deepest imprint in their spiritual essence. But before that? She remembered that day, before being killed by her beloved husband, she was about to… what was she about to do?

Madame Worsey’s voice began to tremble. “How could this be…”

“Also, among those paintings on the castle walls, except for one that was the prototype of the Sabbath, you collected the paint and paper and painted the others yourselves, right?” Joey’s light voice now sounded like a demon’s whisper. “That level of skill far surpasses many self-proclaimed mediocre artists. Did the painter’s wife and daughter really possess such skills when they were alive?”

The little girl’s eyes widened as her mind exploded.

Yes, why could she paint those pictures so skillfully? In the shattered memories before death, she was a girl who bounced into the studio to play with her father, making crooked doodles in the corner…no, that wasn’t her!

No…

The most fundamental understanding in their hearts was easily dismantled, as if some long-held belief shattered in an instant.

Both pairs of eyes looked up at Joey simultaneously, their pupils filled with extreme chaos. Deep red paint like fresh blood flowed from their eyes, interweaving on the ground.

Then, their forms continuously dissolved, completely losing their original appearance, becoming writhing blocks of color in the corner, like blood-red paint spreading madly on paper.

“No, no, who am I? Who am I? WHO AM I!”

“Ah, an artwork’s spirit comes from the creator’s intense emotions and mental will. But that fellow took a wrong path, mixing his twisted emotions from killing his wife and daughter with their despair and hatred at death… You are monsters born from such twisted emotions and grudges!”

The youth, continuously rolling up the painting while walking forward, let out a soft sigh. He looked at the blood-red color blocks continuously spreading on the paper and revealed the shocking truth—

“You were never human, you are the spirit of ‘The Sabbath.'”

“It’s too funny that you misunderstood yourselves as human ghosts. As the spirit of an artwork, all your memories come from the spiritual fragments of the deceased at death, viewing others’ hatred as your own, infected by the dead’s despair, mindlessly devouring blood and souls… Yet you pursue human freedom instead of staying obediently in the collection room. Isn’t this pursuit just imposed by memories? All your emotions are just false emotions given by others.”

“No, no, no…”

Two overlapping female voices rambled nearly deliriously. The surging blood color crashed about in the painting, seemingly driven mad.

The painting therefore trembled more violently, yet didn’t resist Joey’s continuous rolling motion, more like it had fallen into collapsed self-doubt, becoming easier to roll up.

“It’s not like that!”

The little girl’s childish voice finally broke free from the delirious mumbling, her soft voice still trembling continuously.

“We… we are not dead things.”

After saying this, as if gaining some confidence, she emphasized more firmly.

“…Since Mr. Worsey brought us home and treated us like family, we are no longer dead things. Our emotions are not all false emotions given by others. At least, at least our feelings for Mr. Worsey are real.”

The continuously dissolving deep red color blocks in the painting slowly gathered together, vaguely forming the outlines of two human figures.

But they were no longer the fixed images of Madame Worsey and Miss Worsey—their clothes and appearances kept changing.

Joey observed their changes with interest, even stopping his continuous rolling of the painting.

There was a kind of inexplicable expectation in his eyes.

Finally, when the human forms completely stabilized, the two whose appearances were still constantly changing opened their eyes simultaneously.

“—We have already gained a heart that belongs to humans.”

All the chaotic energy dissipated, transforming into a cold calmness.

Two overlapping female voices let out a wistful sigh. “Although we are grateful that you helped us understand our true nature, freeing us from being controlled by others’ resentment, we apologize, but precisely because of who we are, we cannot go with you, Mr. Joey.”

“We don’t want to return to the Artists’ Association’s collection vault as lifeless objects.” They bowed deeply, and when they straightened up, their eyes held both gratitude and caution as they looked at Joey. “Besides that, we are willing to do anything for you…”

“Very well.”

Unexpectedly, Joey agreed immediately, as if everything before had been just an absurd dream.

The two were stunned momentarily.

“I said, it’s fine. You are free.”

Joey showed no intention of explaining further. As for their promise to do anything for him, he clearly didn’t care.

He casually released his grip on the scroll. “Considering that I can appear in this age of spiritual revival in my current form, partly thanks to the enlightenment I received from you… and besides, spirits that have developed human hearts are unique works that transcend their original grade. Taking you back might stifle your potential for further evolution.”

Whoosh…

The invisible painting scroll unfurled swiftly across the heavens and earth.

Joey stepped back and performed a gentleman’s bow. His silk-like black long hair cascaded down with his movement, and his classically beautiful face took on an almost saint-like mystery.

“I look forward to…your future.”

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