Chapter 294: Posthumous Work (13)
The monster’s corpse hung suspended in the sky, blood continuously pouring down from it.
Though its body was pure white, the blood flowing through its veins was brilliantly multicolored.
All eight severed heads struck the ground at once, bursting into puddles of vibrant paint. Streams of rainbow-colored blood followed, cascading over the island below like a waterfall.
Anything touched by that blood—whether seawater or reef—melted like butter on a hot iron plate, dissolving before the naked eye into thick, viscous pools of paint. They surged toward the colored blood, where they were absorbed and assimilated.
Where the paint had been stripped away, the world instantly faded into irregular patches of white.
That was the world’s original form—
A blank canvas.
Flax fibers crisscrossed one another, forming a dense, tightly woven texture. Evenly distributed pores gave it exceptional affinity for oil paint. A brush needed only the lightest stroke to sketch bold, vividly layered contours.
It was upon such a canvas that Moonlit, the masterpiece representing Shelly’s greatest artistic achievement, had come into existence.