The Artist Who Paints Dungeon

People who lived during the era when plagues ran rampant grew up always hearing tales of a “cruel beast.”

“If you don’t come home before dark, the evil god will take you.”

“Who’s making all that racket! The evil god’s going to come and snatch you away!”

“Live selfishly like that your whole life and you’ll get dragged off by the evil god!”

If Sergio had heard those, he’d probably have said, “What am I, some kind of tiger?” with a dumbfounded look.

Anyway, that’s how it was back then.

Ather was one of those children.

It was a time when the existence of the evil god had become deeply woven into everyday life.

Deep in their minds and hearts, people were filled with fear and caution toward Argio.

But the Argio he met in person was different.

“Have you eaten?”

“Did you get your exercise today?”