Chapter 236
When these common folk turned to other artists, Alexander spared no time in mocking their work. He would publicly ridicule these artists, tearing apart their efforts with biting critiques and cruel laughter. His words stung more than any physical blow, leaving his victims feeling worthless and defeated. Among those who suffered under Alexander’s scorn was a young artist who always looked up to him.
He admired Alexander’s skill but was always crushed by his harsh judgments. Every time he presented his work, Alexander’s words cut deep, magnifying the admirer’s own insecurities and deep-seated shame for not measuring up. Despite his best efforts, he could never escape the shadow of inadequacy cast by Alexander’s brilliance and cruelty.
Unknown to Alexander, his behavior had sown seeds of resentment among the artists and art lovers of the city. Their collective bitterness and anger began to coalesce, calling upon the curse that befell Alexander. This curse was a manifestation of their collective resentment, born from the pain and humiliation Alexander had inflicted upon them.
As for the other curse, In the sprawling Empire in the southern continent led by Chen, known for its rich culture and rigorous training of young, talented children, lived a young man named Thomas. The empire valued skill and excellence, and from an early age, children were selected and trained to perfect their talents in various disciplines. Those who showed promise were celebrated and nurtured, destined for greatness. However, Thomas was not one of these fortunate souls.
Born with no discernible talent, Thomas struggled from the beginning. He worked tirelessly, dedicating every waking moment to improving himself. He practiced painting, music, martial arts, and more, hoping to find his niche. Despite his relentless efforts, he could never measure up to the gifted prodigies around him. His movements were shaky and unsure, his hands clumsy and weak. The things that came naturally to others were insurmountable challenges for him.
Thomas became a figure of mockery in his city. His lack of talent made him an easy target for ridicule. People used his name as a punchline, a joke that encapsulated the concept of failure in the central city of the continent. Even children would chant his name in derision when they wanted to taunt someone. The humiliation weighed heavily on Thomas, and the spark of hope in his eyes gradually dimmed, replaced by a deep-seated despair.
All this led to Tomas having a deep resentment against the world itself and against the system used by the empire. His deep resentment and the humiliation called upon the curse that took hold of him.
The forest was silent except for the rustling of leaves, everyone available looking at The two figures stood at opposite ends of the room, their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes of their intertwined fates.
The Arrogant Artist, his long, nimble fingers wrapped around his brush, looked down at the frail figure before him with a sneer. His hollow eyes glinted with disdain. "So, you’re the unfortunate soul chosen to face me," he began, his voice dripping with contempt. "It’s almost laughable."