Sculptor of Hell
The place Weed and Smith arrived at after passing through a black gate was a jet-black stone mountain without a single growing tree .
It was definitely not going to be a normal stone mountain.
The stone was jet black with holes all over, and a river flowed through the area.
– Waaaaah.
– Save us. Save us.
– Let me escape from this pain.
The river cried out. It was wailing like a ghost.
‘Is this the River of Lamentation?’
There were quite a number of sculptures on the stone mountain.
Like evil, murderous antagonists, they were sculptures creepy enough to make demons tremble!
The neck of a mother embracing her child was cut off. The mother and daughter were not Human, but Orcs. The Trolls were stabbing each other with spears. Humans were waging war en masse. Even a scene of a village being plundered and burned down was expressed through sculptures.
Following the flow of the river, groups of sculptures were lined up, and continued on endlessly.
“Ahem.”
It was enough to make even the likes of Weed grimace.
Some sculptures only depicted negative scenes that weren’t positive at all. For a normal person, it was at a level where one couldn’t help but feel repulsed.
But the one sculpture Weed liked and could understand was provokingly depicting a slaver. The sculpture of the man was ignoring the scrawny kids and enjoying a steak by himself. The kids, who looked like slaves, were eating barley bread at most.
“If you don’t have money then you will starve! They must be treating them well to give them barley bread…”
It was a sculpture evoking 100% of Weed’s sympathy!
Those kids might be considered lucky to be enslaved under the wicked trader. Because if it was Weed, he might not have even given them a single bowl of porridge!
The procession of sculptures continued endlessly down the River of Lamentation. The river made more rough and raspy groaning noises as it flowed downstream.
– Waaaaah.
– Kill me. Kill me.
When Weed looked after approaching the river, he saw it wasn’t normal water. Deep inside the river, ghosts of all kinds of monsters and humans were intactly flowing down the river. They had expressions of distress difficult to see even in the chilling horror of a haunted house.
Smith approached and said, “Maybe it’s the influence of the sculptures?”
“What?”
“I’m talking ‘bout the artwork. The basics of artwork is to move emotions. These sculptures are making the river wail.”
They were words Weed could relate to.
The sculptor’s feelings were buried into a sculpture. They all looked like the same sculptures, but they were actually very different.
A person who keeps waking up at night will definitely look haggard. But there’s no reason for a girl who receives a confession from someone she really loves to appear haggard.
Hopes and aspirations. Feelings full of affection!
Even if the subject was the same, a sculpture will convey a completely different mood depending on the feeling it was sculpted with. It was something as natural as a poem written by a poet or an author’s writing conveying a different mood depending on their feelings.
A work of art can move the emotions.
If a person’s house was filled with gloomy drawings or sculptures, of course they would also feel depressed and wouldn’t be motivated, either. If their house was filled with negative sculptures, they wouldn’t even want to get up in the morning. It might be a momentary impulse or simply a feeling, but after several years, several decades, it could definitely change a person.