Devta Bhakt System : Rise of the Protector
Chapter 9 : " A 4-Star Painting is Born! The Hall Descends into Madness "
The Moon Sword is its perfect shadow ; it creates a frigid, ethereal aura that freezes the enemy's blood and slows their movement to a crawl."
Excitement sparked in Karan's voice. "The most unique trait of these blades is that they are Evolving Weapons.
The more they are used in battle, the higher their grade climbs—from low to mid, and mid to high. It is said that when these blades are drenched in the blood of high-ranking enemies, their very souls awaken."
Suraj listened in silence, but his " Clever Fox " persona immediately flagged these blades as a vital asset for the future.
Karan scrolled further down. " The next item is even more mysterious — the ' 2 - Star Cauldron '' . This was unearthed from ancient ruins. I am certain some high-level Hakeem from the Pill Market will send an agent in disguise to claim it at any cost."
" Why such a frenzy for a cauldron?" Suraj asked.
" And what are these Ruins ? "
"Brother Suraj, most Hakeems here are only at the '1-Star' level," Karan said seriously. "Making basic medicines is easy, but when it comes to complex pills, an ordinary cauldron cannot withstand the pressure and will explode.
A 2-Star Cauldron is a treasure for them. As for the ruins... they are remnants of a forgotten world, sealed for centuries. They open only once a year for a limited window."
He continued, "Anyone brave or foolish enough can enter.
If luck is on your side, you find ancient artifacts beyond value.
But... death lurks in every shadow. There are monstrous beasts, and worse, there are scavengers waiting to steal what others have bled for."
Karan looked into Suraj's eyes and smiled. "If you have the courage, you could wait for the ruins to open next year. I suspect a man like you would find much hidden there."
Suraj gave a small, non-committal nod. His plans were far more immediate.
"Enough for now, Karan," he interrupted suddenly.
" Tell me this instead... is there a specific place in this city dedicated to Paintings, Art, or Calligraphy ? A place where such works are bought and sold ? "
Karan blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't expected a mysterious warrior to harbor an interest in fine arts. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.
"A coincidence, Brother Suraj! That very place is on our route. We call it the Painting Hall."
Karan elaborated, "They house 1-Star and 2-Star paintings there.
Though I must warn you, 2-Star works are incredibly rare in a small city like this, and their price is often enough to buy the city itself. In a town of this caliber, the density of spiritual energy is low, so high-ranking Scribes and Painters rarely reside here. If we were in a Capital city, it would be a different story."
"I need to visit this Painting Hall before the auction," Suraj stated, his voice flat. "I have urgent business there."
Karan looked at him, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue.
What business ? Is he an artist ? Or is he seeking a hidden map within the ink ?
But one look at the sheer depth in Suraj's eyes silenced him. He signaled the driver, and the carriage lurched as it diverted toward the Painting Hall.
The wheels spun faster now, kicking up clouds of dust. On the streets, people were still whispering about the man in the black cloak, but Suraj's mind was no longer on the present—it was fixed on a hazy image of the future.
Suraj did not miss the countless questions swimming in Karan's eyes, but he maintained his mysterious silence.
He gave a barely perceptible, almost invisible nod. His voice carried that same calm authority, a resonance that seemed to echo from the deepest caverns of a mountain.
"Fine. I have business in the Painting Hall.
Perhaps there is something there that I have been seeking."
Karan, usually a man of many words who loved to dig for the truth, remained silent this time.
The invisible aura wrapped around Suraj, coupled with the influence of the 'Clever Fox' title, had filled Karan with an unfamiliar sense of both dread and reverence. He looked at the driver and gave a short, sharp gesture.
The carriage veered off the city's main artery, turning onto a quiet, tree-lined path. The air here held a different fragrance—the scent of ancient parchment, the earthy musk of wet ink, and the aroma of rare cultivation dyes that instantly calmed the soul.
On either side of the road stood buildings of ancient architecture, homes to the true connoisseurs of art.
Soon, a massive and artistic edifice came into view. It stood apart from the rest of the city—tranquil, grand, and spiritual.
"Stop the carriage!" Karan commanded.
As the horses came to a halt, Karan looked at Suraj once more. This time, his eyes held a genuine desire to help.
"Brother Suraj, would you like me to come inside with you? The rules of the Painting Hall are quite strict; my presence might make things easier for you."
A faint smile touched Suraj's lips. Without a word, he gave a nod of consent. Both stepped down from the carriage.
Suraj's black cloak billowed in the wind, making him look like a secret unearthed from an ancient era.
The gate of the Painting Hall was a masterpiece in itself.
From a distance, it looked simple, but as you drew closer, you felt a strange magnetic pull. It was the kind of attraction found only in places where art and Q i (energy) converge.
To the right of the gate was a magnificent landscape—mountains, rivers, and an infinite sky. Gazing at it washed away all unrest, bringing a sense of boundless peace.
But the painting on the left was the polar opposite. It depicted a massive lion with eyes like lightning. Its gaze was so piercing it felt as if it were peering directly into your soul.
It was a warning: 'Let only the pure of heart enter; leave your ego and ill intentions at the doorstep.'
Suraj paused. Using his 'Clever Fox' intuition, he scanned the images. He could feel a faint but steady flow of energy within the brushstrokes.
"3-Star paintings..." Suraj murmured in a low voice. "Impressive. A significant achievement for a city of this size."
Karan's ears perked up. He thought to himself, "He recognized the level at a single glance? Is he truly a master artist as well ? "
As they stepped inside, a gust of cool air hit them.
Hundreds of paintings hung upon the walls, each telling its own story.
An assistant, responsible for tending to the high-end clientele, hurried toward them. Seeing Karan's noble attire and stature, he bowed deeply.
"Welcome, Sir ! Which masterpiece would you like to purchase? We have some rare 2-Star and 3-Star works that have just arrived for auction."
Without stopping, Suraj replied with a steady gait, "I am not here to buy anything."
The assistant's professional smile flickered for a moment. He looked from one to the other, wondering what their purpose was.
"I wish to acquire supplies to create a painting," Suraj continued. The sheer confidence in his voice instantly crushed any doubt in the assistant's mind. "I intend to paint a piece today."
The assistant was stunned. Usually, artists spent months preparing before bringing their work here, and this stranger wanted to paint one on the spot? But the sheer weight of Suraj's persona was such that the assistant did not argue. He immediately led them to the specialized section where high-grade art materials were kept.
Everything there was categorized by cultivation levels. Brushes made from the hair of rare beasts, inks prepared by grinding spirit stones.
But to everyone's shock, Suraj chose the most ordinary brush, a plain sheet of paper, and basic natural ink.
"Ordinary materials?" Karan whispered. "Brother Suraj, if you want to create something great, I can pay for the finest supplies."
Suraj shot a sidelong glance at Karan. "Art does not reside in the material, Karan; it resides in the consciousness of the artist."
Suraj set the paper on a stand. He closed his eyes. Within him, the 'Devta Bhakt System' had already bestowed upon him the ultimate pinnacle of artistic knowledge. He took a deep breath and concentrated his mental energy at the tip of the brush.
And then, the magic began.
His hand began a rhythmic dance in the air. With the first stroke, massive mountain ranges began to emerge on the paper. It felt as if real mountains were rising from the earth. The next moment, the pace of the brush shifted rapidly, and a flock of birds began to soar across the sky.
Finally, between two mountain peaks, he drew a single line representing the rising sun.
Karan, the assistant, and the others in the hall held their breath.
As Suraj began to apply color, a golden aura began to emanate from the plain paper.
1- Star ! The air inside the hall stirred.
But Suraj did not stop. His hand moved even faster. With every touch of the brush, the energy within the painting grew denser.
2 - Star ! The clouds within the painting now seemed to actually drift and move.
A crowd began to gather. "Look! Look at that man! He's raising the level without even pausing ! "
Suraj's concentration was at its zenith. He infused a massive portion of his spiritual energy into the ink. Suddenly, the melodious chirping of birds echoed through the hall. Those standing close felt the faint, warm heat of the rising sun against their faces.
3 - Star !
A heavy silence fell over the Painting Hall. Veteran artists dropped their brushes and came running.
"This is impossible! A 3-Star without using magical ink?" an elderly painter cried out.
But the main event was yet to come. Suraj delivered the final stroke and signed his name in the corner.
At that exact moment, the entire Painting Hall shivered as if hit by a sudden earthquake. A light so intense erupted from the painting that people had to shield their eyes.
4 - Star !
This was no ordinary image. Suddenly, the sun and the birds manifested as light, emerging from the paper. The birds circled Suraj's head, chirping, and the miniature sun brushed against his palms before receding back into the parchment.
"4-Star... The Living Grade ! " someone gasped, their voice cracking.
Just then, a man pushed through the crowd. His eyes were deep with experience, and his face carried the weight of authority.
This was Hall Master Babar Wang, a 3-Star painter who had spent his life trying to master the secrets of color.
Babar Wang's eyes were locked on Suraj. With trembling steps, he approached the painting. He touched it and then looked at Suraj. "This... this is a 4-Star painting. The ease with which you created it surpasses even the marks of a Grandmaster. Usually, this level is only seen after Imperial Exams."
Suraj calmly set the brush down. "Master Wang, I have never taken an art exam in my life. I simply wish to sell this."
Babar Wang took a long breath, trying to regain his mental composure. "A work like this is priceless, but according to the rules of the Painting Hall... I offer five thousand Gold Coins."
The crowd exploded. "Five thousand! You could buy a small palace for that!"
Suddenly, a young man from a wealthy house stepped forward. "Master ! I' ll give ten thousand! I must have this painting ! "
Before he could finish, a beautiful but arrogant young woman pushed him aside.
"Move! Do you even have that many coins? Master, I will give fifteen thousand Gold Coins and a rare elixir! This painting will grace my chambers ! "
" Twenty thousand ! " a merchant shouted.
" Twenty-five thousand and my family's heirloom sword ! "
The Painting Hall now resembled a chaotic marketplace.
Everyone was ready to stake their entire fortune for that 4-Star painting.
Karan stood to the side, his head spinning. He had thought he would be helping Suraj, but Suraj had just upended the entire city's economy.
Hall Master Babar Wang was drenched in sweat, trying to calm the crowd, but the greed for art and the energy of the 4-Star painting had driven everyone mad.
As the chaos escalated, Suraj raised his hand.
The moment his hand went up, the energy in the hall froze.