CHAPTER 78: THE FIRST ARTIST

The night air filtered through the expansive windows of the artist’s studio, casting pale moonlight across the concrete floor scattered with brushes, palettes, and half-finished canvases. The extremely spacious room featured exposed beams and crowned with a skylight that framed the star-studded sky.

Industrial-style windows lined the walls, their grid patterns creating geometric shadows that danced across the abstract paintings propped against every available surface. Vaiden Quillforte stood before one of the many easels, his long dark hair cascading over his shoulders in waves of reddish-brown highlights that seemed to move with a life of their own.

His pale complexion made his sharp features more pronounced, and his reddish eyes held an intensity that matched the mysterious smile playing across his lips. The dark robe he wore hung open, revealing his well-defined chest as he worked on a canvas painted in muted tones of gray, orange, and blue.

The paintbrush moved with precision across the surface when suddenly, Vaiden’s hand stilled. He straightened, his head tilting as if listening to something beyond regular perception. The enigmatic smile widened into something more devious. "An interesting character has appeared," he murmured to the empty studio, his voice carrying an edge of anticipation.

Setting down his brush with deliberate care, Vaiden turned from his work and began making his way toward the exit. His bare feet made no sound against the polished marble floor as he descended the grand curved staircase.

The hallway stretched before him, its walls adorned with impressive artwork—including a particularly striking impressionistic piece depicting figures with colorful umbrellas walking through rain.

The marble beneath his feet reflected the ambient light, creating the illusion that he walked on liquid silver. He had nearly reached the main entrance when a feminine voice called out from behind him. "Grandfather, whatever it is, I can see to the errand immediately."

Vaiden froze mid-step, his teeth grinding together as his expression shifted to that of someone caught attempting to sneak out. He turned slowly, one hand moving to the back of his head as an awkward smile replaced his earlier confidence. "I-I didn’t think you were awake, Lysandra," he said, his voice carrying a note of sheepishness.

The young woman who had spoken remained in a respectful position, one knee dropped to the ground and her head bowed in deference. Her dark hair was styled in a loose updo with wispy strands framing her face, and a delicate white daisy was tucked behind her ear as an ornament. She wore a dark-colored robe that mirrored her grandfather’s attire.

"I only sleep after my liege has," she replied, her voice filled with unwavering reverence.

Vaiden rolled his eyes and shook his head with an exaggerated groan. "Urghhh... Get up from there, child. I only want to take a look outside." His smile returned, though it carried a cunning quality that suggested his intentions were far from innocent.

Lysandra rose but kept her head slightly bowed. "But my Liege, you haven’t left your studio in seven decades," she said, her voice careful and measured.

’Shit!’ The word echoed in Vaiden’s mind before he spoke aloud. "Has it been that long?" His expression grew thoughtful as he glanced around the corners of the room, taking note of the newer structural additions and freshly painted surfaces. "Ah yes, I suppose so. I see you’ve been doing your best keeping the house in shape."

"I do what I can. I hope it pleases you," Lysandra replied with genuine concern.

"Of course it does." Vaiden’s demeanor shifted as he approached her, draping his arm over her shoulders and leaning down as if to share a secret. "Come, Lysandra, we’re going to share a little secret. I’m going out into the real world for a while. I’ll be back soon. I want to take a look at something myself."

"Grandfather, at only a word, this thing you desire will be brought before you. I’ll personally see to it," Lysandra insisted, her dedication to serving him evident in every syllable.

Vaiden sighed at her obstinacy, wondering what he would ever do with his granddaughter. Then inspiration struck him, and then he feigned a serious expression. "As your liege, I command that you let me do this."

Without hesitation, Lysandra dropped to both knees, her face pressed to the ground in complete submission. "As you wish."

"Fantastic! That’s more like it," Vaiden said with obvious glee, moving past her toward the main door.

"But Grandfather," Lysandra called out, "if you go through those doors, it will raise several unanswered questions. It could even cause unrest throughout all of America."

Vaiden stopped in his tracks, releasing another sigh. "Ah, that’s true. You’re wise, Lysandra." He turned back, his fingers moving to his jaw in contemplation. "Hmm, now how can I leave this place without causing that much trouble?"

His face suddenly lit up with inspiration again, and then he snapped his fingers with a gleeful smile. Lysandra watched in fascination as her grandfather began making intricate hand gestures in the air, his index finger tracing invisible patterns as if painting a diagram in space.

Within seconds, another iteration of him appeared—identical clothing, identical face, nothing different whatsoever. "Tell me, child, can you spot the difference?" Both versions of Vaiden spoke in unison, their voices carrying matching laughter.

Lysandra studied them for only a moment before responding. "Yes, Grandfather, I can. Unfortunately, the boundless energy and mana quality emanating from your body can still be felt from miles away."

Both men sighed simultaneously, their hands moving to their jaws in mirrored contemplation. The original Vaiden suddenly turned to his duplicate with irritation. "Hey! I’m the main one here. Stop for a second." The clone immediately ceased its movements, maintaining a smile. "Yes, that’s more like it."

Then another idea struck him. Vaiden placed his index finger against his clone’s chest and drew a distinct mark. He then pressed his full palm against the mark and retracted it, causing the marking to glow with a dark green light before fading.

Lysandra’s head snapped up in shock at what she had witnessed. Even if that much energy could be separated, she didn’t think even the distinction in mana could. It was truly astonishing.

Catching her expression, Vaiden asked, "This works, right? This is as much of my magical energy as I could conceal within him. I couldn’t go any further than this."

"This works, my Liege. Right now, you’re at the level humans would consider a regular S-Tier," Lysandra confirmed.

Vaiden chuckled with amusement. "Those amusing little creatures." He turned toward the exit again. "Alright, Lysandra, I’ll see you soon."

"Grandfather, you’re forgetting something," she called out, her caution never wavering.

"Urghhh, Lysandra, what else?" he replied with growing impatience.

"I don’t mean to be rude, Grandfather, but you should probably appear like them too."

Vaiden paused, considering her words. He realized that leaving with his current appearance would cause just as much trouble as he was trying to avoid. "True, true." He snapped his fingers, and his appearance transformed dramatically.

Where once stood a deity now appeared a flamboyant, fashionable male with striking two-toned hair—predominantly silver-white with streaks of dark hair blended throughout. He wore dark sunglasses, a luxurious red velvet shirt, and what appeared to be a gold chain.

A black fur coat was draped over his shoulders, and underneath he wore dark pants and black leather boots with decorative buckles. This was a look he remembered from how popstars dressed a long time ago.

"Now, how about this?" he asked, stretching both arms out with a confident grin.

Lysandra looked up and nodded approvingly. "This works just fine. You look like them now."

Vaiden chuckled and was about to turn when he paused. "Lysandra, if there’s one more thing I need to do, say it now or forever remain silent."

"Grandfather, if the guise you’re putting on leaves through those doors, I would have no answers to give my siblings from other parts of the estate," she pointed out.

"Hmm... true." His attention shifted to the clone that had remained silent throughout their exchange. "Hey, come on, don’t just stand there. Get back up and continue." The clone nodded and began walking back up the stairs from which the original had descended.

Vaiden looked toward a random corner of the room and made a vertical gesture with his hand, causing a portal to open directly in front of him. "I’ll be heading out now, my child," he said with a grin as he stepped through the portal, which closed immediately behind him.

Lysandra heaved a sigh of relief, pulled herself to her feet, and made her way back upstairs. She couldn’t help but wonder what had compelled the Family Leader, Vaiden Quillforte, to leave his art studio after nearly a century of isolation.

When a member of the Quillforte family died, every piece of information they had acquired during their lifetime, every sight they had witnessed, was instantly transferred to the family head’s mind. This ensured that no knowledge was ever truly lost.

The most recent deaths were Helda and Zebelon. All knowledge gained and sight witnessed were transferred to Vaiden few hours after their passing.