The Artist Who Paints Dungeon
Chapter 179

Before the official departure, they took time to rest.

“Still, it’d be better to get some sleep first.”

“Seems like a lot of hunters relaxed too suddenly after recovering so fast.”

“If we move now, people will definitely get hurt...”

“Yes, it's better to take a proper rest.”

So the hunters each settled into their own spots.

“These damn weeds, no matter how much I cut them, they just grow back.”

“Can someone start a fire here? Any fire-type hunters around?”

Watching this, a hunter from Daecheong spoke up, a little wistfully.

“That house we found would’ve been a much better place to rest.”

“It’d be too hard to go all the way back there in this situation.”

“I know. I was just saying... it feels like a waste.”

“It was a good spot to turn into a base.”

“Especially in a dungeon like this, filled with poisonous plants.”

Even as they carved out resting space, the sun rose and set multiple times. The hunters all looked visibly fed up with the environment.

“I’m gonna die from exhaustion.”

“Even when I sleep, it doesn’t feel like I slept...”

A vast rainforest filled with humid heat and all sorts of toxic flora, and to top it off, the sunrise and sunset were wildly erratic. It was truly an awful place to try and get any real rest.

Still, they managed to set up a rough resting zone, and soon enough, hunters started calling for healers.

“Can I get a heal over here?”

“I got cut by a poisonous plant!”

“Damn, my arm’s rotting! Heal me!”

In a dungeon thick with poisonous plants, not getting hurt while building a camp was harder. This time, the expedition had prepared above-average healers, and the results were paying off.

Among them, Gio was getting a steady stream of requests.

“Priest!”

“I am not a priest.”

“Ah—uh, right. Tamer?”

“That is correct. Where are you hurt?”

“My hand... I got pricked by a thorn...”

“It’s already started to discolor.”

With a light touch, Gio cleansed the dark, venomous streaks climbing up the hunter’s skin and veins. The process was so smooth and seamless that both the patient and nearby hunters were awestruck.

“Wow... How did you purify it that fast?”

“I figured it was better to do it quickly, since it must hurt.”

“Still, this kind of thing isn’t easy...”

They all assumed Hunter Sergio had high-tier healing skills. Asking for detailed skill windows was considered rude, so no one pressed him—but it was treated as an open secret.

“Was that medicine you gave us earlier also made with a skill?”

“No such skill exists.”

“Wait, so... you made it on your own?”

“I didn’t think a skill was needed to make medicine.”

“That’s impressive. Most people rely on skills.”

“The ingredients were powerful on their own. I was lucky.”

“You must really be serving a compassionate god.”

“Yes, a truly gentle one.”

From what they’d heard, Hunter Sergio seemed to be treated almost like a saint by his god. That must be why he had access to herbs so full of the Sun’s power.

At that, one of the Sun’s priests quietly asked Kang Seodam,

“It’s a different dimension’s Sun, but still a similar domain. Do you think he might dislike our Church?”

“Don’t twist a good thing into something ugly. Let go of your greed. He is the son of another divine being.”

“But this sort of thing has happened before. There are plenty of gods who became family with ours. If we just try to convince him—”

“What exactly are you hoping to achieve? I understand what you’re aiming for, but show some humility.”

Kang Seodam was growing visibly tired of the itch-like irritation.

At least the older priests knew to hide their greed and act humble, but the younger ones often relied on the Church of the Sun’s stature and became reekingly arrogant.

‘Honestly, I’d rather deal with the Moon Church’s slyness than this blatant stupidity. Still, it’s no less annoying. I doubt this kid even knows who he’s talking about.’

As one of the top two major religious institutions in Seoul, the Church of the Sun trained priests from a young age. By 14, they were formally ordained; by 17, they began active service.

Drunk on their reputation, the Sun’s priests often carried themselves with this sort of entitlement—believing that any offer from them would be accepted with gratitude.

“Do you want Sergio’s fame that badly? His skills look useful, huh? Sure, unlike the Moon Church, we don’t have a saint yet, so a candidate like Sergio must look appealing. But evaluating the son of another god like you’re choosing produce? That’s really something.”

“N-no, I was just—”

“Drop the arrogance. What does Sergio lack? He’s satisfied with his life. He grows in the embrace of his divine patron. We should feel honored if he approaches us, not the other way around.”

After spitting it out, Kang Seodam ran a hand down his face and sighed.

“I’m already worried.”

And it wasn’t just this young priest’s desire—once they escaped the information-locked dungeon, the story would reach the church.

‘Then the elders will go wild again.’

The older they got, the more polished their masks became, and the stronger their pride in the Sun Church. They’d come at Sergio with all the subtle, experienced methods they had.

‘Filthy worms.’

It couldn’t get more disgusting than that.

“......”

“I—I’m sorry.”

“...Reflect on this.”

Unfortunately, the situation had all the worst optics.

‘The mermaids in the Deep said their teacher had been taken by their dimension’s Church of the Sun...’

Kang Seodam had entered the “Nation of the Deep” dungeon with Hunter Sergio. He knew its story well. And the situation unfolding now looked far too similar.

‘If the mermaids get angry again, what then?’

In religious circles, those who hosted divine power were always seen as something greater. Among the Sun Church’s priest trainees, Choi I-Sol and Iru Da had the most potential. The Moon Church had its own “Saintess.”

The Church of the Sun and the Moon Church were locked in a relationship of coexistence and rivalry. And while the Moon Church had a living saint, the Sun Church did not.

Worse, last year’s dungeon break had hit the Sun Church hard—they were still reeling.

“......”

As Kang Seodam stood alone, holding in a heavy sigh, Gio approached.

“Is something wrong?”

“...Apolog—no, I’m sorry.”

It was a fair distance, but there was no way ‘Hunter Sergio’ hadn’t heard the conversation. Kang Seodam apologized in clear anxiety.

Fortunately, Sergio didn’t get angry.

“I understand.”

“Your mercy is as vast as the sky.”

“I like the Sun.”

“...Yes, I know.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were friends?”

“......”

Kang Seodam nodded with a heavy face.

“I’ll... be careful.”

He had ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) no intention of provoking the still-angry mermaids again.

“I’ll smooth things over. I have some influence within the Church—my brothers should listen to me.”

“There’s no need to overthink it.”

“I’m just ashamed of our greed and pettiness. I’ll do my best to prevent any trouble. Thank you for your compassion.”

“......”

To that, Gio thought:

‘Do I speak strangely or something?’

He’d just made a simple offer of friendship, yet Kang Seodam had taken it and run in circles with it. Seemed like Kang Seodam lived life a bit too seriously.

‘Still, if he’s doing the worrying for me, that’s helpful.’

And entertaining, too—so that was fine.

“I’ll return to my team now.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later.”

“May peace be with you, brother.”

Gio was rather fond of his own clear-headed mind.

***

And yet... no one truly saw Hunter Sergio for what he was.

“......”

Especially not Hunter Sanarae.

“Captain? What’s up?”

“Haha.”

“What the—why’re you laughing?”

“Just doing some life reflection.”

“Whoa, seriously? You do that? That’s wild.”

“Is it?”

He thought his teammate was more impressive than himself.

“Stay safe out there.”

“That doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Hahaha.”

Sanarae waved and casually wandered off. He returned to where his team was resting and sat down. He glanced around the group huddled around the fire.

“......”

“......”

“......”

Exchanging glances—Sanarae, Jeong Yeong-Won, and Garasani.

Interlocking his fingers, Sanarae asked,

“Is this really okay?”

“What do you mean?”

Garasani, with his cold expression, responded innocently. Sanarae smiled that trademark smile.

“Isn’t this, like, way too shameless?”

“If you provide the subject and object, it’d greatly aid my understanding.”

“In this camp? With everyone listening? Are you trying to get me killed?”

Sanarae, despite appearances, was the type who valued his own life.

People would scoff—“You? Really?”—but it was true. He simply enjoyed battles near death’s edge in a hazy state of mind, but he always secured an escape route before diving in.

Well, he’d taken his risks coming here, too. That’s why, even after hearing ‘Hunter Sergio’ would be joining the expedition, he didn’t back out. In that same spirit, this wasn’t all bad, either...

“Haha.”

Sanarae chuckled again.

‘I’m losing my damn mind.’

At that moment, Sergio arrived after greeting the other hunters.

“Is anyone getting hungry yet?”

“Hunter Sergio really is a wicked old witch.”

“I may look it, but I promise I don’t eat people. Please rest easy.”

“Still not totally reassuring, honestly...”

If you can’t avoid it, enjoy it, they say.

“What’re you offering?”

“Do you like dried fruit?”

“Ooh, I do.”

Sanarae obediently took a round piece of dried fruit. Smoother and deeper yellow than a raisin, it had a clean, sweet flavor that was excellent.

“How is it?”

“This is seriously good.”

Are you planning to fatten us up before eating us?

Even this little snack tasting so good was maddeningly unfair—it made him laugh.

“......”

Sanarae was a hunter who knew how to use his body.

His sight was like a raptor’s from the sky. His sense of smell like a tiger’s. His danger instincts as sharp as a prey animal’s. There were things he couldn’t help but notice.

Like a scent that changed three times in one body.

“...Give me one more.”

“How wonderful it is to see someone eat so well.”

“Don’t go overboard with this.”

“If it overflows, the dungeon ants will eat it.”

“Think there are ants here?”

“Then a monster will eat it.”

“Ooh, monsters...”

The tone and rhythm of the voice in his ears.

“So compassionate.”

That embalmed-like smile and every gesture—each hinted at something, whether you wanted to know or not.

“How far does your mercy go, Hunter Sergio?”

“With a pushover like me beside you, the feast will be luxurious that day.”

“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess it would be.”

For now, he chose to laugh it off.

Hunter Sergio didn’t seem the type to get angry.

***

“Meow.”

In the darkness, a cat cried out.

“Meow.”

Again, until someone responded.

“Meow.”

Dana was waiting.

There was a soul here that needed to return home.

“......”

“Meow.”

“......”

Sanarae covered his ears.