Published at 10th of August 2026 7:05 am

Chapter 1916: Abstract World

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The world spun around him.

Colors distorted, turning muted and abstract. The sounds dampened. And even he himself felt the profound changes to his body.

When the world stopped spinning, Adam found himself sitting on the floor. His heart pounded in his chest as he took in the surroundings.

He slowly raised his trembling hands and noticed that they looked like... a painting!

They were no longer flesh and blood, but brushstrokes on a canvas. His entire body, his clothes, his hair, everything looked like a painting.

"Hello, young man."

Adam’s heart skipped a beat.

Such a gentle and melodious voice called out to him. He couldn’t help but turn his head to the source.

Standing before him was a mature, middle-aged woman.

She was dressed in an elegant black gown trimmed with lace, its high collar and long sleeves giving her an austere yet refined appearance. A matching veil draped from a small hat atop her neatly pinned brown hair. Everything about her radiated grace and dignity.

Adam slowly looked around. He was no longer in the ruined house.

Instead, he found himself sitting on the polished wooden floor of a tastefully furnished bedroom. Heavy crimson curtains framed the windows, antique furniture lined the walls, and the faint scent of roses lingered in the air.

The woman stood beside a large portrait hanging on the wall.

Adam’s pupils constricted.

The painting depicted a crumbling, dilapidated hall. The very same hall he had been in only moments ago!

His view was interrupted when the woman in black side-stepped and stood in front of the portrait.

She looked at him with an eager smile, "Welcome, dear guest."

Adam gulped. He slowly rose to his feet, still feeling weird about the fact that he was inside a portrait and that he had turned into a painting himself.

He slowly circulated mana, getting ready to fight. But in that moment, intense alarm bells rang inside his mind. He quickly released the mana, and the alarm bells fell silent.

What the hell is going on?!

"You’re observant," said the lady in black, her lips curling into a curious smile.

Adam gulped subconsciously. "May I know who you are?"

"Ah, forgive my manners!" The woman gave a light curtsy. "I haven’t entertained a visitor in such a long time."

She then went on to introduce herself.

"My name is Isabella Chermont."

Without waiting for an answer, she gestured toward the seating area in the bedroom. There were two high-back chairs, and a small table separating them. A silver tea set rested atop it. Two cups. Steam gently rose from the teapot.

Adam saw the woman in black walk toward the seating area, then gracefully took a seat. She then gestured to the chair across from her.

He hesitated.

But the next moment, he too sat down. He tried circulating his mana again, but as soon as he did so, he felt goosebumps crawl over his skin.

He realized that if he tried to cast any spell, it would quickly prove disastrous!

As he took his seat, he couldn’t help but curse to himself that the door to his room was directly behind him, in his blind spot.

So he released his Sphere of Resonance outward, but suddenly the temperature in the room dropped drastically.

"No."

Isabella’s cold voice echoed in the room. Her face had turned hostile, and her eyes blazed with anger.

Adam shuddered. He quickly retracted his senses. The moment he did so, the temperature in the room returned to normal, and the woman seated before him once again radiated a gentle, noble presence.

She began pouring tea for him.

"I have only one favor, dear guest."

On the other side of the room, the pendulum of the grandfather clock swung slowly.

Tick! Tock!

Tick! Tock!

"Remain with me until sunrise," she said with a smile. "Conversation makes the long night bearable."

She gently pushed the teacup toward him.

Adam glanced at the steam rising from the tea. Then he looked at the poised woman in black.

"And if I refuse?" he couldn’t help but ask.

Isabella’s expression did not change. With the same polite smile on her face, she said:

"Then you will become another painting."

Adam’s eyes narrowed. Before he could question further, the woman pointed at the wall on the other side.

"Look at all those portraits."

Adam slowly turned his head. The wall was covered in dozens of small portraits, each containing a single person — man, woman, Magus, Paladin, and even some monsters.

Every last one of them had a permanent expression of shock and terror etched on their faces, forever immortalized inside the painting.

"So won’t you stay with me till sunrise?" Isabella asked again, her voice sweet and wonderful.

Adam turned back toward her, a drop of cold sweat trickling down the side of his forehead. He silently nodded.

"Splendid!" Isabella cheered.

She then patiently explained, "There are only three rules: never leave your chair, never refuse to answer when I speak, and..."

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice turned solemn.

"Never look behind you."

Isabella’s face returned to normal, and she took a sip from the teacup.

"Should you obey, sunrise will set you free."

Adam nodded.

He didn’t know what was going on. What he did know was that if he tried to cast a spell, he would be in danger. And if he tried to sense what was behind him beyond the door, then he would be in danger. In both circumstances, he might even lose his life.

And so, he decided to agree to the woman’s rules.

"Excellent!" Isabella clapped her hands lightly. "So what is your name?"

"Cillian," Adam lied.

There was no rule against lying. Just that he couldn’t refuse to answer Isabella’s questions. Adam was extremely wary of this woman and this abstract world he was trapped in.

If Isabella had realized that Adam was lying, then she didn’t show it on her face. She continued to have a pleasant conversation.

"Where are you from?" She asked.

"From outside."

"Have you family?"

"Maybe."

"Do you enjoy music?"

"Perhaps."

Adam confirmed that he could indeed lie and even reply vaguely. So as long as he followed the rules, there was hope yet in escaping this painting.

As the conversation flowed, he couldn’t help but wonder if anything was going to happen.

What was the point of the rules? Why did he have to follow them? What were the principles sustaining the painting? What would truly happen if he used magic?

An hour passed by.

And that’s when it happened.

A floorboard creaked upstairs.

Slowly. Very slowly.

Adam’s gaze shot upward.

Someone was walking.

Heavy footsteps. One at a time.

The creaking continued, growing closer and closer, as though someone was descending the stairs.

Until finally...

The footsteps stopped right behind Adam.

And then...

With an eerie, drawn-out creak, the door slowly opened.

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