When the plot-skips players into the game world

Chapter 547: 427 Chapter 547: 427 At the same time, Aiwass, accompanied by Isabel disguised as Yulia, effortlessly found Yanis.

Because Yanis was not hiding at all.

She sat atop the largest clock tower in the Red Queen District, overlooking the entire Glass Island and slowly drawing with deliberate strokes.

If one’s eyesight was good enough, they could simply look up to spot her presence.

Though those at the Fifth Power Level often shunned the public eye, “Master Yanis” was an exception; her fame on Glass Island was not insubstantial.

After all, she was a world-renowned top-tier artist and the founder and editor-in-chief of the Glass Staircase Daily.

Her social network was quite extensive.

In the high society areas of the Red Queen District, home to priests, merchants, and scholars, too many people could recognize Yanis at a glance.

Naturally, no one would disturb her.

Aiwass lacked the ability to fly, but Isabel was different.

As a “Prodigy,” she softly hummed a lively folk song that lightened their bodies while drawing with her fingers in the air.

In the blink of an eye, she conjured a pair of phantom wings for Aiwass.

They were like butterfly wings, translucent and pink, only outlines that dissipated particles outward like a halo.

And Aiwass instantly knew how to use this peculiar creation.

——There was no principle to speak of, nor any reason.

Simply because wings had been drawn on him, flying became a matter of course.

Aiwass wrapped his arms around Isabel from behind, and with a great leap, they took flight.

Their form was less akin to flying and more akin to floating—as if leaping with all one’s might on the moon, they floated straight to the lofty top of the clock tower.

The Yulia-like Isabel was very small and light, so when Aiwass carried her, it felt like holding a kitten.

She let out a joyful yet fearful shriek, reminiscent of a ride on a drop tower, as she clung to Aiwass’s collar and sleeves.

When Aiwass landed, the ethereal wings at his back dissipated into shimmering dust.

With just a glance, Yanis immediately recognized Isabel’s disguise.

She let out a chuckle and said, “What prompted this foolish disguise, Little Isabel?

So adorable…”

“…Did I not change something properly, Teacher?”

In the pink light, Isabel reverted back to her original form.

She asked with a mixture of shyness and earnestness, “I should have been identical to Yulia…”

“It’s like realistic painting.

An artist with a decent foundation often makes such a mistake at some point, believing their work to be sufficiently accurate.

They think that even those unversed in art will exclaim, ‘It’s so lifelike!’ upon looking at it, yet they vaguely sense an inexplicable stiffness.

“I will not use empty phrases like ‘lacking soul,’ ‘bereft of emotion,’ or ‘missing tension.’ To me, it’s straightforward—you simply have not drawn it to a sufficient likeness, your observation is incomplete.

At the same time, you’ve overexerted yourself.”

Yanis smiled and pointed to the canvas before her, “What do you see?”

Aiwass and Isabel looked intently.

Given Yanis’s skill level, she could rapidly produce a moving Demonic Painting.

Today, however, Yanis drew leisurely.

Like a novice who had recently taken up painting, she had been sitting here for most of the day.

The paper before her still only displayed outlines and structures, lacking a myriad of details.

Even so, Isabel could still tell at a glance that the painting Yanis had created was indeed of Glass Island.

But it was not the Glass Island of the present, rather it was the Glass Island from sixty years ago.

——She saw the past through the present.

The houses were almost all mere faint outlines, and each person was drawn without a head.@@novelbin@@

Yet Isabel could tell at a glance that this was Glass Island, but not the Glass Island of the present, and she could even sense the emotions of those passersby.

Although Yanis had not depicted The Sun, Isabel could still tell that it must have been a somewhat chilly afternoon in autumn.

“It is only when you truly grasp the whole that you can proceed with omission and modification.”

“You have painted everything you see, everything you remember, making a perfect replica.

But is what you observed truly everything?” Yanis said leisurely.

“——Do you see Yulia’s appearance, or her inner self?

“You remember her looks, but do you remember the shape and softness of her earlobes?

You remember her hairstyle, what about the earsthat her hair covers and the back of her neck?

“You have seen her figure, remembered her height and body shape, but you have not seen her inner skeleton.

You haven’t noticed that her leg muscles are somewhat atrophied from lack of nutrition and exercise over the years; the way she stands actually relies on compensating for the weakness in her legs.

“You haven’t noticed that her smile is actually one of distance and politeness, you haven’t noticed the rational, scrutinizing look she gives people.

Have you noticed what kind of feelings she has towards Aiwass?

Do you know why she is so focused on studying Alchemy?

Do you know what she likes, do you know why she likes those things?”

Turning her head back, Yanis continued in a calm and serious tone: “Little Isabel… Her Majesty, the Queen of Avalon.

I am giving you your last lesson.

“Art is the concentrated expression of beauty, but its essence is nothingness.

“Art originates from reality, from material, from the ubiquitous beauty of life around us.

Yet the beauty of art is virtual in itself.

It comes from abstract consciousness, containing embellishment and lies.

“The essence of beauty is a mirror image.

It approaches reality closely but is not a true copy.

Because what is false remains false, and it can never become real.

No matter how lifelike it is, it is always just ‘lifelike’.

“Once more, I ask you, Little Isabel——what is the path to beauty?”

“…Is it, aesthetic judgment?”

Isabel answered tentatively.

Upon hearing this answer, Yanis smiled satisfactorily.

For it was the answer that Yanis had taught her the first time she met Isabel.

It was the true legacy of Yanis.

“Exactly.

To reach beauty, one must discover beauty.

To discover beauty, there must be aesthetic judgment.

Observational power is the ability to discover beauty, and from this perspective…

every Painter is a Detective.

Always needing to discover those details that others cannot.”

As Yanis spoke, like a magician flipping her hand open, a fresh, dew-dropped white rose appeared from her hand.

She smiled and shook the flower at Aiwass, then handed it to Isabel.

Isabel hurriedly received the flower with both hands, scrutinizing it intently.

But, even after staring for a good while, she could not find any flaws, only able to exclaim, “Teacher, you are so amazing, I can’t see any flaw at all…”

“Because it is real.”

Yanis said with a beaming smile: “This is the flower I bought for Sofia this morning.

“—The real cannot be faked, and the fake cannot be real.

Do you understand a little now, Little Isabel?”

“…I seem to understand a bit, but not quite.”

Isabel answered honestly.

Yanis just smiled, “It’s right not to understand.

Beauty is the crystallization of life, and your future is still long ahead.”

She said, sighing softly.

Yanis looked up at The Sun, her gaze was warm and bright as if she were looking at someone.

Isabel suddenly felt something, “Teacher…aren’t you going to see Grandmother’s funeral?”

“Nope.”

Yanis smiled gently, winking at Isabel like a young girl, “As long as we don’t say the final goodbye, she hasn’t really left, has she?

“My old friend is surely somewhere out there.

One day, I’ll meet her again.

Maybe in the Material Realm, maybe in the Dream Realm.

“And before that…

my journey, as fleeting as the wind that never ceases, begins anew.”

She spoke softly, a flash of duskiness glinting in her pupils: “Before that happens, I have to paint her a proper painting.

“It was a promise I made when we first met, one that I’ve yet to keep.”

But soon, that was replaced by a bright yellow, representing Balance.

She sighed, putting down the half-finished painting.

She tossed her brush aside carelessly.

As the brush left her hand, it turned into specks of color that disappeared into the void.

And at the moment she let go of the brush, the painting bloomed like a flower, detailing itself and becoming complete on its own.

Aiwass, who had maintained Silence beside her, suddenly realized—

Rather than saying Yanis was painting with a brush, it seemed more like she was trying to restrain the brush in her hand, slowly allowing the details to emerge.

At her level, she long ago reached a point where she no longer needed a brush and pigments to paint.

And if she finished this last painting, she would leave Avalon.

Clearly, she wasn’t ready to leave Glass Island yet, didn’t want to bid her old friend farewell…

and so she sat alone, working on that painting she never finished sixty years ago.

Though Sofia had passed a week ago…

the death of a friend is like a rich wine, its aftertaste only now surging up, turning into a melancholy sadness and remembrance, as light as rain.

—And now, Yanis had finally overcome the longing of the twilight in her heart and chose to let go.

Isabel clearly hadn’t fathomed this much.

She just widened her eyes, marveling at the scene that unfolded like a miracle.

It was like the arrival of spring, when Vanhua blooms.

The seasons within the painting shifted from autumn to winter, and then to spring.

Vanhua in bloom, all becoming so beautifully perfect.

After the painting turned to spring, the details of the faceless pedestrians on the street gradually became richer and more complete.

It was as if a world had been created from nothing—another girl who bore a seven-parts resemblance to Isabel gradually emerged on the canvas.

She stood beneath the bell tower, the most conspicuous place in the painting.

The girl’s eyes were bright and clear, her back to the viewer, with a radiant smile on her face.

Finally, Yanis’s figure was outlined.

Aside from a more ethereal and subdued demeanor, she looked almost exactly like the Yanis of the present.

She stood where the younger Sofia had once looked back, her back to the easel, glancing sideways towards the bell tower and beyond the confines of the painting.

As if sixty years ago, someone had stood atop this bell tower, watching below as Sofia walked the streets with Yanis.

Of course, Sofia in those years never truly walked the streets with Yanis.

She had not been at Yanis’s art exhibit for long before she was taken back by the people from the Hall of Silver and Tin.

They did become friends later, but they never had the chance to stroll leisurely together.

Sofia was always busy, always worrying about others.

And as a queen, she didn’t have the luxury to wander.

By the time she truly had free time, she was already old, confined to her bed, knitting sweaters for the younger generation.

Yet, the painting seemed so real, as if such a thing had truly happened.

“This painting is for you, consider it…”

Yanis peeled the now solidified painting from the easel and handed it to Aiwass.

She looked at Aiwass and Isabel, then suddenly smiled, “Well, let’s call it a [Gift] to you.

Originally, I wanted to leave quietly, but since you found me, it’s also my fault for painting too slow…

far too slow.

“Life is short, cherish it.”

With that, she casually reached out to touch Isabel’s face.

As if drawing something—Isabel was “smeared” by her touch, and with just a light brush, she completely transformed into Yulia.

Even Aiwass found it hard to tell the difference between this “Yulia” and the real Yulia.

“Keep studying.

You’re still far from it.”

Yanis smiled, slinging her easel on her back.

She turned around and waved casually.

On the last day of the year, when families gathered, she chose to leave alone with effortless grace.

No goodbyes.

The wanderers of the world never say goodbye.