After Becoming The Tyrant

Chapter 66: The Light of Art

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This year is almost coming to an end.

There are only a few days left in December, and the shadow of the plague of Kothiania is gradually being dispelled in these days when the king is seated in the southeast. While the city was being cleaned up, the citizens, led by city officials, were nervously preparing for the Holy Day celebrations.

It was in this atmosphere that Grac, led by his attendants, walked into the king's temporary residence.

Years of wandering life have made him incredibly thin and bone-shattering, and these days, day and night, racing against the clock has almost drained the artist who has nothing. If it weren't for his eyes that were too bright, as if all his life was burning, he would be almost indistinguishable from a living corpse.

He was originally a student of one of the outstanding masters of the Ike school, but he was expelled by his teacher for questioning the classic theory of Ike painting. Later, because of drunkenness, he accidentally said in a tavern that "painting, as an art that expresses emotions and thoughts, should not be limited to religious themes", and was reported.

Will, the "capital of art" where he was at that time, was very close to the city where the Holy Court was located. If it wasn't for a friend who took the risk to remind him, he probably wouldn't even have a chance to escape and would have been thrown at the stake.

Gluck had to remain anonymous, crossed the Abyss Strait, and came to Legrand, where the influence of the Holy See was relatively small compared to other countries, and became an unknown wandering painter.

Today was his most risky move.

The proprietor of the tavern thought he was mad - a painter as obscure as he was, who wanted to invite the king to see his paintings!

Gerak stood guard for several days in front of the king's residence.

There are too many people here to file lawsuits, and a wandering painter has no sense of existence. Things took a turn when the tavern owner tried to force him back. By coincidence, General Sheehan, who came back from the inspection, saw his painting, and the noble knight general agreed to ask him before the king.

Hence what happened today.

Gluck's breathing was a little short, and his steady hand trembled uncontrollably when he held the brush.

- He has a wish, he wants his new painting methods and ideas to spread, which is almost impossible for him to leave the art capital.

Today, however, he feels that this is the only chance he has to make his wish come true.

can he

Can the king of Legrand give him what he wants

he does not know.

The door to the king's study was in front of him, and the attendant pushed it open with permission.

The king looked at the painter standing in front of him.

It can be seen that he should have done his best to clean up before he came, but the embarrassment of economic conditions made it impossible for him to make too many changes. His coat was old, and the exposed lace cuffs had traces of various colors that could not be washed away. His temperament reminded the king of his madmen academy gentlemen.

Maybe genius always has its own neurotic breath

Following Mr. Painter was the tavern owner who temporarily acted as his assistant.

"Relax, gentlemen." The king retracted his scrutiny. "You can say what you mean."

He said these words largely to the tavern owner who was so excited and nervous that he almost fainted, because Mr. Painter was more worried that he looked so tired that he might die at any moment.

- This has something to do with the king.

On the one hand, inspiration is swarming, and painting is too self-absorbed. On the other hand, it was also because the painter did not know how long the king would stay in Cossoaia. He knew that once the king left Cossoaia, it would be difficult for him to see the king. Adding the two together, he almost took his life to complete the painting quickly.

"I want to dedicate a painting to you."

Gluck calmed down and said.

With permission, the tavern clerk assisted the wandering painter in presenting the painting to the king.

In addition to the king were the housekeeper, Mr. Charles, and several other municipal officials in the room. But after the painting stood up, almost everyone's eyes were drawn to the painting.

Unlike all paintings seen before, there is no trace of religion on this painting.

Time suddenly turned back, and the great plague of December suddenly jumped out and spread out in front of people's eyes.

The dark atmosphere in the painting collides with the brilliant light. The dark clouds pressed down on the city of Kossoa. In the streets of all sizes, there were countless moaning patients hidden in the shadows. People's memories of the disaster were awakened again, and those sorrows and deaths floated in front of them.

But death and despair are not the subject of this painting.

The patients struggled and raised their heads from the shadows. The king's attendants stood on the street distributing rose coins to the people. On the tall building of the Free Chamber of Commerce headquarters, flocks of crows fluttered. In the sky, among the thick dark clouds, the bright light broke through the clouds and spread to the whole city.

The light fell on the faces of the patients who raised their heads, on the flying crows, on the knights in armor... Light and shadow, death and life, all strong emotions with trembling power surging out of the screen.

This is a painting without God, but it teaches people to fear.

The city officials stared at it shudderingly, wondering where their awe came from, and why a painting could make people feel that there was some kind of terrible power in the brushstrokes

They don't even understand what that power is.

The frozen silence made the tavern owner sweat roll down his forehead. He will accompany Glac, partly because he has a good relationship with Glac, and partly because he thinks the painting is really good, although he can't say why. So pregnant with a gambler's psychology.

But the current silence could not help but make him have a strong suspicion.

"I noticed that your painting was not created in the Ecke style, is it a new technique that you have developed yourself?"

In the silence, the king broke the silence.

Gerak was a little surprised by the sharpness of the king's eyes.

He replied, "Yes, I don't paint with transparency."

Ekpie was accustomed to using transparent pigments to paint on the canvas layer by layer. But this often requires waiting for each layer of painting to dry before proceeding to the next layer of overdyeing. This is the painting method that painters are accustomed to use today, which can make the picture show a strong sense of realism.

When Gluck was studying painting in Weir, he tried to point out that in addition to the defects that colors are sometimes difficult to smudge and connect, this painting method tends to rigidify the thinking of painting and is inconvenient for flexible expression.

However, his suggestion was not recognized at the time, and instead angered the tutor.

Painting is used to praise the gods, but it needs to be taken seriously. In the city of Will, which is close to the Holy Court, Gluck's thinking is called rebellion. So he was expelled from Ekpai, and he was later hunted for "heretical words".

In Legrand's long wandering life, Gluck often faced the problem of needing to paint a painting faster. In the process, he gradually explored a painting method different from the transparent painting method.

"The King and His City" adopts this new direct painting method.

"I call it the 'direct painting method'." The emaciated painter said with bright eyes and a slightly excited tone when he talked about his efforts, "Besides that it can be done quickly, the more important thing is that it is beneficial to Expressing feelings, and painting is not just about depicting icons! Ordinary people can be painted by the brush."

The tavern owner almost fainted.

He just wanted to gamble on Gluck's mouth, how could this guy change his mind when he mentioned his ideas!

Just when the tavern owner was frightened and sweating, someone applauded softly.

is the king.

He stared at the painting and applauded it.

Immediately afterwards, there was applause in the room, and everyone applauded for the painting.

"Mortals should be drawn with a pen, and you're right, sir."

The king made his assessment.

The tension in Gerak's heart was finally completely let go.

Joy overwhelmed him, and he couldn't help but let out a big smile.

Because of a belief, his fiancée left him and wandered in a strange country. This young genius in the art capital was reduced to an unknown person who painted portraits for everyone.

More than ten years of hardship, more than ten years of delusion, more than ten years of incomprehension... In this applause, those who were ridiculed, despised, and ignored in the past finally paid off. His beliefs that were seen as "unrealistic" finally got the applause they deserved.

He wanted to laugh out loud, and he wanted to cry out loud.

"Give a place to our distinguished Mr. Painter."

The king smiled and said to the chief of the house.

Just as the Director of Internal Affairs was about to carry out the king's order, he saw that the painter who had just given a generous speech fell forward without warning, and fell to the floor with a thud.

Everyone in the room was taken aback by this change.

The Chief of Internal Affairs hurried forward and turned over Mr. Painter. He stretched out his hand to probe, then looked up at the king, crying and laughing: "He fell asleep."

- As soon as the tight strings were loosened, coupled with the high-intensity painting for many days, this gentleman should have been lying down long ago, and his will supported him to finish telling his ideas in front of the king.

"All right."

The king looked helplessly at Mr. Painter, who fell on the floor and fell asleep.

He didn't intend to blame Glac for his rude behavior, and ordered the chief of the interior: "Take our painter down and have a good rest, he may teach people to think that a huge Legrand, even a court painter is raised by him. Sorry."

The heart that the tavern owner, who has a good relationship with Grac, has been holding up tightly these days, finally let it go.

The attendants soon came in and helped the downtrodden painter, who was sleeping soundly before the king. The house chief understood the meaning of the king and led him down.

The city officials withdrew with the innkeeper, leaving the king and his godfather alone in the room.

"William also likes to sponsor some struggling painters."

Charles seemed to remember something, and said to the king with a smile.

"Where am I subsidizing painters who are in distress." The king replied, "This is the light of literature and art that I want."

Under the shadow of divine power, the voice made by mortals themselves, the light they strive to find. In the king's eyes, this is even more than aid from hell.

The shackles are as heavy as mountains, but there will always be an unyielding cry from the gap.