Chương 10: Craquelure
The Seventh Soulstone · Corig · 34 chương · ~24 phút đọc · Tạo 30/08/2026
Everything was happening so fast. They had hardly been in this town for an hour and already somebody had died. Not to mention the culprit behind this town's woes had already revealed themselves within those first few minutes. While Oscar of course lamented the death of Auntie, he also sort of wished there had been a mystery to solve. Aside from not knowing Dorian's motivations, most of the puzzle's pieces seemed to be on the board already.
There was the whole corruption aspect to this as well, or at least, Bruno said it was present. He had no frame of reference for that so he just had to take his word for it. Apparently there was some corruption within Oscar, but he didn't feel any different. It was a slight worry that his class and skills would further increase his corruption. Until he had reason to worry, he simply just wouldn't.
It was best to focus on adapting to this world so he could survive long enough to even know how to manage his potential condition. Town hall was down a narrow road that was just a bit beyond the silent dancers. Since they'd been here, those dancers had yet to show any signs of slowing down. Oscar imagined that they were all fatigued and most likely in pain, but he was hesitant to involve himself lest another Auntie situation occurred.
"What's the plan? Sit down for a little chat and pray this delusional freak pretending to be a [Mayor] or whatever is willing to see reason?" Gita asked. Bruno just shrugged.
"You and I will have the chat. Oscar is going to excuse himself to use the restroom and wait outside just in case Dorian tries something. Have a shadow weapon prepped already, I don't wanna take a hit just because you weren't ready."
"I'll be ready," Oscar said, unsure if he believed it himself.
"I do worry about bringing Gita along to any sort of peace negotiations…" Gita turned around, her eyes narrowed at him.
"I can be… peaceful. You don't know shit about me, so don't act like it. You might have some fancy class, but don't forget that I've already kicked your ass once."
"I'd like to see you try. I've got [Lesser Dexterity] now, or have you not been paying attention to how graceful I am now?" Oscar said, then performed a flawless backflip. Bruno intervened, stepping in between them.
"Oscar save that enthusiasm for Dorian. And Gita… you really should just let me handle the talking." The town hall was just ahead now. Its front door was painted in a mixture of colors, resulting in it looking an ugly gross mess. For a man so unreasonably obsessed with recoloring, he would've thought that Dorian would be a bit better at it. This was also clearly not the work of man that was completely stable either. It was a good thing that this would be Oscar's first tutorial-like boss.
Ardeo didn't count for that in his eyes. That whole encounter had felt like the scripted loss to give him a goal to grind towards. They stepped inside town hall and were greeted by the sounds of… nothing. In Oscar's mind, he pictured there to be a plethora of people bustling about, each working on some project or something. But nope, it was seemingly completely vacant.
"Looks like he hasn't gotten the chance to redecorate in here yet," Bruno remarked as he scanned the lobby.
"Wonder what color scheme he's got planned for this place." Gita snorted and was about to make a comment when Dorian appeared on the top floor, looking down on them.
"Ah, you're here earlier than expected. Come on up anyways, I believe I can squeeze you all in for a brief meeting right now."
"Looks like everyone's taken a sick day, huh?" Oscar said as they climbed the stairs. Dorian chuckled, but said nothing. No else did either, so the remainder of the short walk into his office was in total silence. Without conversation to fill the void, Oscar was forced to take in the eerie building. The offices he passed were just as silent. It truly seemed like they were the only ones in the building.
Despite Bruno's assurances that this guy was weak, he was beginning to worry that there was more to this man than they thought. Dorian held the office door open and gestured for them to enter.
"Sit, sit. I'm sure you all no doubt have tons of questions. I can see it written on your face."
"Yeah, you could say that," Bruno replied as he took a seat and pulled out a cigar, lighting it with a snap.
"I know we're early, but Auntie Lauthrie had to close shop early due to an emergency. We could've explored town some more, but… eh, figured business is more important."
"I'm sorry to hear that about Auntie! I thought she had more time. Her food was so incredible, I was hoping you'd get to try some before she had to go," Dorian said with a strange grin on his face.
"Now, what is it that—""Apologies, but where's the bathroom? I forgot to go at Auntie's, I'm terribly sorry." Oscar said, cutting Dorian off. Dorian waved his hand, signaling he didn't mind.
"No worries, it's down the hall and to the left." Oscar excused himself and stepped outside. Not sure if Dorian was listening to his footsteps, he followed the instructions. On the way back, a slightly creaked open door caught his attention. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Excuse me, is anyone in there?" Oscar asked, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. When no reply came, he decided to go in anyways. From outside the office looked completely plain, but the moment he was inside the room, the entire place completely changed.
"What the fuck…" Oscar said as he looked in horror at the true state of the office. Hovering over top the desk was a middle aged man. One balled fist was shoved into his mouth. His jaw was dislodged from being forced to host the large shape, and his eyes were wide with terror. As Oscar moved into the center of the room, he noticed the paint on the walls behind the levitating corpse. It was an idyllic field of flowers, and a beautiful rose colored tree.
The background was such a stark contrast to the brutality of the man's death. Never being one to dissect art, Oscar didn't even bother to try and understand what he was seeing. Hell, he hadn't even processed how this body was floating. No doubt some skill, but what was the purpose? Backpedaling out of the room, he saw the illusion paint itself back once he was fully out. A bit of curiosity plagued him at what might be in the other rooms, but he felt pretty confident a similar display was awaiting him.
He needed to get back to Bruno and not waste any more time. Oscar heard Dorian's voice as he crept behind the partially cracked door.
"…I am a [Painter], and this town is my canvas. I know that you believe some of what you've seen to be horrible, but that is just because you don't understand my art. Take a moment to step back and reflect on what you're feeling rather than just being angry."
"I've taken more than enough moments, I can assure you. And what I understand is that you've subjected this poor town to your manic whims," Bruno said.
"If you can revert the damage you've down, then I promise I'll find a cure for you."" A cure?" Dorian said.
"I'm perfectly fine! It was this town that desperately needed a cure— my cure!"
"The best cure you could provide to these people is your death," Gita said.
"What you're doing isn't art, it's pure torture. If you can't see—" Oscar heard a fist slam onto a desk and a rage fueled shout of frustration.
"Enough you curs! [Efflorescence]!" Sensing this was his moment to step in, Oscar muttered his skill, summoning forth a blade of shadows, and flung himself inside the office.
"Bruno! Gita!" Oscar shouted as he entered the office. They were both still in their chairs, but now were entombed in a thick layer of some white crystal substance. Some of its residue was flaking off and piling onto the floor below, but the majority of it was pure, hardened crystal. Dorian was standing with a palette and palette knife in his hand, his eyes quite literally red with anger locked onto him.
"[Efflor—]" Not wanting him to use the same skill, Oscar lunged forwards and stabbed at him with his weapon. Forced to react, Dorian ceased speaking his skill, and somehow parried his strike with his flimsy palette knife.
"[Erasure]!" Dorian shouted, and then swiped at the wall behind him, deleting a large chunk of it. Oscar felt his heart drop at the sight of something so casually destructive. The skill must not work on people, otherwise he'd have used it on him. Even still, there was no way that was a normal skill a [Painter] would have. Dorian jumped out of the hole, fleeing towards the town's center. Oscar didn't pursue, instead he went to check on Bruno and Gita first.
Inside the crystal, he saw that they were actually conscious. Their eyes were still able to move, but he couldn't detect any other movement aside from that. It was good to know they were still alive, but how was he to free them?
"Shit, Bruno… what do I do?" Oscar asked. Bruno flicked his gaze to his bottom left, then back straight ahead towards him… and the hole that Dorian had created. Oscar cursed, and let out a loud groan.
"I really hate you for bringing us here, you know? You owe me big time for this." Ignoring the protests deep within his heart, he jumped out of the building and took off towards Dorian.
Standing on top of the fountain that was in the center of town, Dorian had his arms flung out wide in a dramatic display.
"I won't allow anyone to disrupt my masterpiece!" Dorian shouted.
"Tell me, Oscar… Do you believe me to be a monster?" Oscar looked around at the silent dancers, thought back to the man he'd seen in the office, and remembered Auntie. Victim of corruption or not, the fact still remained.
"Yes."
"Art is a beautiful and powerful thing, you know. And there's so many ways that beauty can be expressed." Dorian said.
"There is beauty like what you see here in my lovely eternal dancers, but there's also beauty in tragedy. All throughout this idyllic little town, I've curated exhibits of beauty. Tell me, what did you feel when Auntie perished?"
"What? What did I feel?" Oscar asked.
"I felt… disgusted. I've felt nothing but disgust since I've been here. That man in town hall with his fist shoved in his mouth… it's horrible what you've done here, Dorian." Dorian laughed and rolled his eyes.
"How can you not see how stunning that piece was? That man was a vile cretin who continued to mock my art. I'd only been in this town for a week, and yet, that man felt comfortable enough to look down on me. To belittle my purpose. Each time he degraded me, it was like he was speaking physical punches to my soul and my pride… but one night, I realized I could use those emotions and create something beautiful."
"I don't want to hear anymore of your delusions, Dorian," Oscar said.
"Release your hold on these people, and go. I'm not some hero bound by a code to bring you to justice, even though I should, so just leave."
"And start over? No, no… my own story has already had its end painted from the moment I began work on my masterpiece. I know what that looks like, but what I don't know is who the [Painter] is," Dorian said.
"If it's to be you, then let that sword of yours be your brush, my blood your paint… and create something marvelous!" Dorian lifted his palette, scooped out some red paint with his palette knife, and flung the red paint into the sky.
"[Inducing Hue: Red]!" The red paint halted its fall and began to spread itself, overriding the skies natural blue, warping it into a deep crimson. Within himself, Oscar began to feel a rising anger emerge. The dancers began to twitch, their heads swiveling around to lock onto Oscar. Similar to Dorian's eyes, theirs was painted a similar red, full of raw malice. As his own temper continued to rise, he began to panic, unsure of what he could do to stop himself from going over the edge.
The silent dancers were beginning to very slowly dance over towards him. He felt his own feet take small steps towards them, his hand gripped tightly on his shadowy sword's handle. An idea blossomed within his brain, just as he was verging close enough to launch a strike against one of the dancers. Unsure if it'd work, but desperately not wanting to harm an innocent citizen, he began to suck in what remained of his shadow up his legs, and towards his eyes.
His shadow sunk itself underneath his eyes, and began to apply a thin coat of itself over his sight, painting the world in hues of black and grey. With the red now vanished, Oscar felt his irrational hatred die, and control over himself return. But not before his body had just launched a brutal cleave diagonally down onto the nearest dancer. He tried to do his best to divert the blade's trajectory, but it didn't matter.
His sword bit into the dancer's body, cutting deep down from her shoulder blade and deep into their chest. For the first time since he'd been in Ascot, Oscar heard a dancer break their silence. Her scream echoed throughout the town, ringing deep within his soul. Above him, still on the fountain, Dorian let out a crude laugh and clapped his hands, pleased with the outcome. And just like that, despite his best efforts, Oscar Reed had tragically claimed his first life.

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