Warhammer Divine Throne

"Hello, Mr. Darkholm, I haven't heard of your name before, could you elaborate?" Agneda recalled carefully and realized she had never heard of this person, but since he was introduced by Master Foster, he couldn't be without background.

"I'm from the southern Liguria Kingdom." Van Darkholm spread his hands: "I used to want to be an actor, I mean, a theater actor, but after failing hundreds of auditions and playing a few small roles, you know, I got fed up, so now I've turned to the art industry, a peculiar art service industry."

"Peculiar art service industry?" Agneda pondered briefly, her eyes glimmering with a mysterious light: "Very welcome! Mr. Darkholm! On behalf of the Aesthetic Society, I welcome your arrival!"

After saying this, Agneda gave Foster a weird look, and the president of the Aesthetic Society thought to himself, so this old gentleman is also into this stuff.

"What on earth are you talking about?" After entering the manor, Mr. Foster, the architectural master, still couldn't understand what Laine was blabbering about, and why Agneda's attitude suddenly changed to be so welcoming towards Laine, who had assumed the identity of "Van Darkholm."

"Hehe~ Mr. Foster, rest assured, I'm also not interested in the hedonistic sect's banquet, but I'm here to investigate some important matters that will reward you greatly once accomplished," Laine whispered.

"What heavy reward could an old man like me possibly care for?" Foster shook his head helplessly—money and fame he needed not; already having one foot in the grave, the architectural master felt there was nothing that could entice him.

"Forget it, since Schultz requested, I will pretend to feel unwell and find a place to rest. Remember, young man, a true artist must never be alone in a corner; you must keep up with the conversation! Even if you understand nothing, just more praise, less comment!" Foster stroked his beautiful white beard and reminded Laine once again.

"I know, I know~" Laine nodded repeatedly, his confident demeanor making the old master shake his head repeatedly, thinking to himself how confident young people are today.

Inside the heated manor, Laine, holding a glass of red wine, soon joined the conversation among the people, while Foster sipped a little bit of red wine, chatted a bit then feigned being overwhelmed by alcohol and found a place to rest.

The architectural master, being old, had his situation understood by the participants of the salon. With the aid of a servant, Foster took a short nap in the resting room.

When he woke up, the art salon had reached its climax.

To the old gentleman's shock, in one corner, Laine had become the center of attention for the artists, speaking eloquently to a group of vibrantly dressed, perfumed, but spiritless artists.

"Yes, so in this process, the role I portray is like this, the host," Laine said.

"I transformed my home into a dungeon, and then I became the master of the dungeon, with a full set of tools and everything... I did quite well; the guests all liked me."

"As for fists, it's thirty Silver Coins at a time...it's just that guests who fancy this service usually drink too much and get excited, wanting to relax...then I would use my fists..."

"It's a long process~ you all understand." Van Darkholm said humorously.

"Oh! My! Mr. Darkholm! I want to try this!" an artist exclaimed excitedly.

"Another unprecedented excitement, Mr. Darkholm, could I be your guest?" A lady's face also showed excitement.

"Oh! Of course, you all can get enough stimulation in this process."

"Wow! This is wonderful!"

The artists and nobility's faces were abnormally twisted and manic, as they clung to Van Darkholm, asking questions, making the atmosphere extremely heated. Even Agneda, the president of Aesthetic Society, said excitedly: "Oh, Mr. Darkholm, you truly are an incredible artist."

"Yes, you see, I invented some combinations of leather and rope; I think they're fantastic, they're my works. If interested, I could show you." Van Darkholm took out some filthy pictures, yet the nobility and artists in the corner regarded them as treasures, passing them around and exclaiming: "Simply masterpieces!"

Seeing Foster appear, Van Darkholm excused himself, walking alone to a corner: "Master Foster, I've been invited to an underground banquet. Ten minutes after I go in, have a servant fetch me, saying to take me away."

Despite pondering for a long time, Foster couldn't comprehend how Laine managed to seamlessly blend into the Aesthetic Society's circle, but he still agreed to Laine's request.

"Mr. Darkholm, this way please." Thus, guided by a servant, Laine headed to the underground venue.

Clearly, his presentation of depraved and perverse theories just now had won the trust of these Chaos Sect members, who firmly believed Laine to be a fellow corrupted and decadent soul, just like them.