Demon Capital Slayer

Chapter 17 Shadow of the Sky
The term "caisson ceiling" first appeared in Han dynasty prose.

In ancient Eastern architecture, the ceiling refers to the components that cover the top of the building, and the dome-shaped ones are called "caissons", which are usually decorated with patterns, carvings and paintings.

A similar art form exists in the West, known as ceiling paintings, which are commonly found in cathedrals or palaces and often depict various religious classic stories.

Both can be understood as using the ceiling as a canvas to create large-scale murals and sculptures.

At this moment, what Yujian and the others saw was this kind of work.

The edges of the drawing are slightly messy and unfinished, appearing to be a draft rather than a formal work.

Even so, the painting before me possesses a breathtaking beauty.

The colors, so vibrant they defy description, mingled and swirled together, eventually coalescing into a massive vortex. Surrounding them were large expanses of unpainted architectural sketches, yet the intricate roads interspersed within were painted in vivid colors.

It's as if all the colors have been absorbed along the road by something.

In stark contrast, the two-dimensional pattern drawn on a flat surface resembles a real ocean whirlpool, rotating and sinking in a visible dynamic motion, exuding a magical aura that transcends reality, as if it could suck people in at any moment.

"Is this Edo Castle? No, the streets are very orderly and look more like Kyoto. Perhaps it's a fantasy product that blends the two." Aizen Yurika carefully observed the surrounding buildings.

"Using Western oil painting techniques to depict an ancient Eastern city is truly creative."

"But in the real Edo or Kyoto, the city center probably wouldn't have had such a big hole cut out, would it?" Mitsurugi muttered to himself, staring at the vortex in the center of the painting.

He felt a sense of familiarity, as if the city in the painting looked familiar.

There were only three people in the room at the moment, but facing such a magnificent and imposing mural made them subconsciously lower their voices, for fear of disturbing the people in the painting.

In fact, there are no human figures in this huge ceiling painting, only large swirling vortexes of color in the center and a ring of buildings surrounding it.

Akane stared blankly at the painting on the ceiling, her gaze gradually regaining focus.

Then, this senior student, who was not good at communicating, showed great initiative. She silently brought an easel, drawing board, and other painting tools from downstairs, and although Mikasa and Yurika did not know her specific intentions, they also lent a helping hand.

Once Akane Isshiki stood in front of the easel, she realized that she hadn't explained anything, and blushed as she looked at the two of them.

"Please, stand there, don't move."

"Me?" Yu Jian pointed to himself, still not understanding the specific reason.

"The color of the clouds." Akane Isshiki mixed the paint, glancing occasionally at the boy's unique pure white hair.

"The shadow of the sky, the clouds, Dad is lost, we need to help him." Gripping her paintbrush tightly, the girl's eyes were filled with unwavering determination.

"I have a general idea now." Aizen Yurika clapped her hands.

"Isshiki's father fell into that painting and couldn't get out. She wants to paint the shadow of the sky to reopen the passage so that the people inside can return to the real world."

"The so-called shadow of the sky is the cloud, and Mingjun's hair color has a similar appearance, so she came to Cat's Paw Studio to make a commission, actually asking you to be her painting model."

President, don't you want to listen to what you're saying? Does this even make any sense? And seriously, can't you read minds?
Miken looked at Yurika with a strange expression, but couldn't bring herself to refuse.

Having experienced the evil spirit incident, he no longer believed in old common sense. After all, this world was different from his previous life; supernatural forces truly existed.

According to the notes passed down through generations of the Paranormal Society's president, the Netherworld is a spiritual dimension. Artists are often perceived as mysterious, so perhaps that great painter accidentally triggered some Netherworld power during a burst of inspiration, which is why he was trapped in the painting.

That seems plausible?
But how did Isshiki-senpai find out about this?

“Observe, observe with your heart.” Akane Isshiki became very sparing with her words.

Did I just say something?
Yujian turned to look at Baihexiang, who was sighing like an old woman, rubbing her forehead.

"Yujian, I'll prepare a mask for you for the next request. I guarantee it will fit perfectly."

"..." Yu Jianming remained silent.

As time went on, Akane Isshiki's actions of mixing colors became more and more exaggerated, and even her sailor uniform was splattered with large patches of color.

Helpless, Lily took out a wet wipe to help her wipe the paint off her face. The latter did not refuse and let her do as she pleased, as long as it did not interfere with her painting.

But why is she getting closer and closer?!
Akane staggered a few steps forward, then slapped Mitsurugi's cheeks with both hands. The girl stared intently at the boy's emerald eyes and pure white hair, the two drawing ever closer.

"Found it!" Just before she reached it, Akane Isshiki let go of the paint and rushed back to the easel, washing away the colors that had been mixed in the palette and grabbing the paint to start a new round of 'battle'.

Yu Jian was taken aback and took a half step back, lamenting that he indeed lacked the talent to be an artist and was at most just a craftsman.

Then, he felt something was increasingly wrong. Akane's eyes were unfocused, she was oblivious to everything around her, and she entered a strange state of concentration that was even more intense than flow. Her hand movements became increasingly exaggerated, as if she were not painting but pouring paint onto the paper.

A special sensation beyond the five senses pulsated continuously, as if foreshadowing the approach of some enormous being.

No, can an artistic talent for causing trouble be inherited?

"Stop." Yu Jian raised his voice, deeply shocked.

Akane Isshiki was unable to stop, and Yurika raised her hand as if to do something, but quickly put it down again.

"It's too late." These were her last words.

The next second, the sword instantly leaped three meters, but just as it was about to touch the easel, it found itself unable to take another step. Its feet silently left the ground, and some unseen force defied gravity, pulling the three of them upwards.

Indescribable chaotic colors float out of thin air from the paper, seemingly requiring no medium to carry them, or perhaps impossible to carry with any ordinary medium.

Then, all three of them simultaneously plummeted towards the ceiling!
A feeling of weightlessness enveloped his entire body, and at the last moment, Yujian reached out and grabbed his painting tools.

Faced with this sudden change, his first reaction was that he couldn't go empty-handed. Although he didn't know exactly what he had grabbed, he felt a warm, wooden touch in his palm, while a metallic silver reflection shone in front of him.

When the ground beneath his feet returned to a solid feel, Yu Jian found himself in an unfamiliar city.

There was no noise around, and a deep, almost tangible silence lingered among the large wooden buildings.

Looking down, I saw that I was holding a 16-inch oil mixing knife in my hand. This is a type of oil painting tool, which is more than half a meter long and is only used when making large-scale paintings. It was obviously prepared for that ceiling painting.

Its shape is similar to a bread knife, but the front blade is slightly different and is not sharpened.

In a moment of desperation, this was probably the closest thing to a weapon that Yujian had at his disposal.

In theory, a paint knife made of stainless steel has both toughness and hardness and will not break easily, but that is based on the premise of normal painting.

If forced to be used as a weapon, Yujian doubts whether this thing can last for three rounds.

As for whether weapons will be used here...

I should probably ask Isshiki Akane, who's right next to me.

The girl was now unconscious, slumped against the wall, with a blurry painting hanging incongruously above her. Similar objects were scattered across the exterior walls of almost every building in the vicinity, making the area look less like a street and more like an art gallery filled with artwork.

Yu Jian narrowed his eyes and placed the oil-mixing knife horizontally in front of him in a defensive stance.

He was worried about Lily's safety, as she had disappeared without a trace. At the same time, his battle instincts, honed through countless battles, sensed the approaching danger, but he couldn't see any living creatures in the surrounding environment other than his own.

Only... paintings?

hiss--

A strange sound of hair rubbing against paper came from behind him, and Yujian did not hesitate to turn sideways and slash.

The next second, the unsharpened oil-mixing knife accurately struck the hideous black shadow that leaped out of the picture frame.

Immediately afterwards, the opponent was easily split in two by the blunt knife, and the remains slammed to the left and right sides with a 'thud,' quickly spreading a large patch of bright red blood across the ground.

Breathe in and out...

Yu Jian sniffed but didn't smell the familiar stench of blood.

My nasal cavity was filled with another spicy smell, as if I were in a pine forest, where I could smell pine needles and resin everywhere.

This smells like... turpentine?
(End of this chapter)