"The news says that the Saintess herself is visiting our estate—why on earth?"

"It seems she was deeply moved by the Dog of Flanders that you drew, Young Master. The sacred painting depicted in the final scene was said to be a masterpiece in its own right."

The news of the Saintess’s visit was delivered unexpectedly while I was receiving healing from Brother Manuel.

‘It’s true that I put my all into that painting.’

After a series of increasingly notable visitors to the Somerset estate—like Amelia Bluewell, the Royal Chamberlain, and Yustaf Haindel—the Saintess’s arrival felt like the crowning achievement.

Unlike the other visitors, though, she was coming with a reasonable request: to inspect the church being built on the Somerset estate and to ask me to paint a sacred image for it. This put me at ease.

I had heard that art had not developed much in this world due to the lack of photography, resulting in relatively poor-quality sacred images. So it made sense.

Considering that religion and art have always been closely linked, it was understandable that the Saintess had a strong reaction to the sacred image.

While photographs could replace lavish landscapes or portraits, religious subjects—things that couldn’t be seen in reality—couldn’t be captured by a camera.

Leonardo da Vinci, one of the greatest geniuses, painted The Last Supper on the wall of an Italian church, and everyone who has seen it says the same thing: in front of such a great painting, people naturally feel reverence.

In a medieval world like this one, where faith in religion was paramount, nothing could convey a miracle more powerfully than a painting. A well-drawn image could solidify the faith of the people, making it an incredibly effective means of spreading religious devotion.

Moreover, the Saintess was a character I had always wanted to meet.

She appeared in the latter part of the original story, playing a crucial role in the intense battle for the throne by siding with the protagonist, the third prince.

Her support from the goddess’s church was instrumental in the third prince’s ascension to the position of Crown Prince.

She was a character I had only drafted for the webtoon I had started, and she hadn’t yet appeared in the story. I was curious to see what she looked like in person.

After all, the Rupert I had possessed looked nothing like the character I had drawn.

It was fascinating to see how closely Amelia resembled the heroine I had envisioned.

The fun of comparing imagined characters with their real-life counterparts made me look forward to the Saintess’s visit.

Since she was coming with a gentle request for me to paint, rather than being a burdensome or troublesome figure like others I had encountered, it would be nice to get to know her.

In this world, the church held as much authority as the royal family.

Unlike the royal family, the church didn’t interfere much in secular matters, so there was no downside to being known as a devout follower of the goddess.

‘But a mural might be too much.’

Different types of paintings require different techniques, and while I would love to try my hand at a mural, it wasn’t feasible under the current circumstances.

It took Leonardo da Vinci five years to complete The Last Supper, and Michelangelo spent a similar amount of time on The Creation of Adam.

No matter how exceptional Rupert’s talent might be, he couldn’t overcome the limitations of time, so I would have to persuade the Saintess to settle for a large painting instead of a mural.

There was still some time before the Saintess’s visit, so I needed to focus on my current work.

"Now that the fairy tale is finished, it seems I’ve got a new commission to work on a sacred painting."

After seeing Brother Manuel off, I went straight back to working on The Iron-Blooded Alchemist Volume 4.

I had thought that I would have more time to work on Volume 4 after spending so much time on The Dog of Flanders for Volume 3, but with the sacred painting now on my schedule, I realized I needed to finish my work quickly to stay on track.

‘From Volume 4 onward, the story will intensify the conflict with the Homunculus group.’

Lloyd Cavallo, having realized that King Brandon was a Homunculus, would start uncovering the conspiracy surrounding the Empire.

This would lead to a scene where he loses a close comrade.

And Scarl, who had been opposing the brothers, would come to realize that the tragedy that befell his people was actually caused by the Homunculi.

Finally, the true nature of the Philosopher’s Stone would be revealed.

As the story approached the revelation that the stone was created by extracting souls from living humans, the brothers would be plunged into despair as they sought to revive their mother and restore their bodies.

Although the impact of Volume 3 was intense, Volume 4 would be filled with equally shocking scenes.

No wonder Sena had been so startled when she saw my storyboard.

In particular, when Lloyd Cavallo’s soldier comrade and friend was killed by a Homunculus, Sena had been so upset that she cried, and I had to console her.

This story was definitely too mature for children.

Although I had heard that many children were secretly reading it despite their parents’ disapproval, it seemed there was no way to prevent that.

It was the same in this world as it was on Earth.

I couldn’t criticize them, as I had also secretly read manga that was marked as 19+ when I was a child.

‘Maybe I should create something that’s suitable for all ages next time?’

Although The Iron-Blooded Alchemist still had a long way to go before it concluded, worrying about a follow-up project already felt premature, so I pushed the thought aside.

"Miss! Please leave this to us!"

Baron Sellon, a retainer of the Bluewell family, was shocked and tried to stop Amelia from what she was doing.

"It’s fine. I’ll be entering the academy soon, and I need to learn these things to maintain the dignity of the Duke’s daughter."

Recently, Amelia had begun actively participating in the affairs of the Bluewell family, helping her father, the Duke.

The retainers had tried to dissuade her, saying that such tasks weren’t suitable for a young lady, but they failed in the face of her firm responses and decisive actions.

Moreover, she had insisted on trying her hand at cooking, resulting in the family’s dining table being filled with charred, unrecognizable dishes for some time.

‘I’m already full just thinking about it.’ ‘Iblin is full from eating cookies earlier!’

Of course, the Duke of Bluewell and Iblin tried to escape, but Amelia’s sharp gaze caught them, and they couldn’t leave the table until they had finished every bite.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—after both the Duke and Iblin got stomachaches the next day, causing the Duke to miss an imperial meeting and Iblin to barricade herself in her room in protest, the cooking was relegated to practice sessions only.

‘It was perfectly edible—why all the fuss?’

This incident revealed not only Amelia’s dangerous level of skill but also her rather unusual taste buds.

The truth was, there was a reason for Amelia’s sudden interest in such activities.

Having obtained and read Rupert’s latest manga, The Iron-Blooded Alchemist, she was deeply inspired.

‘Is this the kind of woman he’s attracted to?’

The female character in the story who always supported the protagonist brothers and prepared a place for them to return to.

A strong woman who was a reliable pillar, standing by the protagonist in both difficult and joyful times.

Amelia was so moved that she even considered picking up a hammer and heading to a forge.

She imagined meeting Rupert at the academy, cooking for him or helping him when he was tired from his studies and creative work.

The idea struck her as incredibly romantic and beautiful.

‘Since he’s from the southern regions, he might like dishes with local specialties.’

The South was known for its warm climate and famous for its fruits, so she thought about trying her hand at dishes incorporating fruits.

Perhaps a warm stew with fruit or bread accompanied by fruit.

She particularly fancied the idea of slicing up the sweet and tangy ananas, a famous southern specialty, and topping it on freshly baked thin bread.

‘This time, I’m confident—I’ll have Father and Iblin taste it first.’

Had the Duke and Iblin known, they would have fled immediately, but unfortunately, they had no idea what Amelia was planning.

"Damn it, what the hell is going on?!"

The Empire’s most wanted criminal, Shylock, felt as though he were in a nightmare.

Once a mercenary, he had gradually become unable to resist the urge to kill.

So, while carrying out his assignments, he would massacre isolated households or participate in illegal human trafficking, killing people for sport.

Of course, after his deeds were discovered, he became one of the Empire’s most wanted criminals, but he wasn’t too worried.

The Empire was vast, so if he fled to a remote area, no one would recognize him, and if things got really bad, he could always escape to another country.

But recently, something strange had started happening.

‘That man looks familiar, doesn’t he?’

Everywhere he went, people whispered as they recognized him.

This wasn’t his hometown, nor was it anywhere near where he had committed his crimes, yet the people recognized him.

‘Hey! That’s the Chimera Alchemist!’

What on earth was a Chimera Alchemist?

Not only did people refer to him as a Chimera Alchemist, but once, while dining at an inn, someone even threw a bone at him, shouting,

‘Bring Nana back to life, you bastard!’

He had wanted to kill the person who threw it, but it wasn’t the right time to draw attention, so he had swallowed his anger and left the inn.

But he couldn’t keep going like this.

‘I think it’s time to move to another country.’

Although he had been reluctant to leave the Empire where he was born and raised, the only way to escape this bizarre situation was to flee to another country.

Killing foreigners seemed like an interesting prospect, too.

‘Might as well take this chance to broaden my hunting horizons.’

He even considered taking this crisis as an opportunity to expand the range of his targets.

But his hopes would not be realized.

“I saw him with my own eyes! That’s the bad guy over there!”

His plans were foiled when a farmer with a large mole beside his nose gleefully pointed him out to the Imperial guards, leading them right to him.