I've Been Killing Slimes for 300 Years and Maxed Out My Level Max Level Witch - Volume 7 - Chapter 6

  WE WENT TO A SPIRIT EXHIBITION  

“Here, Momma Yufufu! It’s that fancy honey from Autra Village that you said you wanted!”

“Wow! Thank you, Azusa!” Momma Yufufu gingerly took the jar of honey. “You really are my daughter~ You are so kind to your mother~”

“I see… I guess I’m fulfilling my moral duty to the closest thing I have to a real momma…”

Just the other day, I’d come over to Momma Yufufu’s and asked if there was anything she wanted. She told me she wanted this honey, so I waited until it was sunny to hop on Flatorte and go buy it.

I wondered why a spirit like Momma Yufufu had an affinity for honey. She was mostly human, so maybe she just liked the taste.

Momma Yufufu brought over a spoon, quickly opened the jar, and dipped the spoon inside.

“Oh, Azusa, look! Look how perfectly it drips! It’s beautiful!”

The moderate viscosity did give it a pleasant shape as it slid off the spoon. She wasn’t the droplet spirit for nothing!

“But isn’t that more like running…?”

Maybe it could technically be called dripping? Sheesh, the definition is a little broad… Strictly speaking, I thought it could only be used for liquids…

“Oh, don’t be so pedantic, silly. My, it’s marvelous. I could watch this for hours.”

I think five minutes was my limit…

This was like moss fanatics watching moss for ages.

Oh yeah, I hear Fatla likes moss. Does she look at it for hours? It’s not hard to imagine.

“Doesn’t seeing the honey return to the jar remind you of the eternal flow of time? Time is always connected in an unbreakable stream, just like this honey.”

“Well, this conversation took a turn… Now we’re talking philosophy…”

If my actual mother said something like this, what was I, as a daughter, supposed to say?

Then there was a knock at the door.

A visitor to Momma Yufufu’s house would be a spirit, in all likelihood.

“Yeees, I’m comiiing~”

Momma Yufufu opened the door to reveal another spirit I knew—the pine spirit, Misjantie.

“Heya, Yufufu. And Azusa. Whoa, the Witch of the Highlands is here, too. Far out!”

“Good to see you again, too. Oh yeah, this is my first time seeing spirits visiting each other’s houses.”

Spirits probably had their own lateral connections, but they were much laxer than humans and demons.

“Welcome. You’re right on time; I was just thinking about making some lemon tea with honey.”

Ooh, that sounds nice. I want to taste-test the honey, too.

“I want to be all polite and say don’t mind me, but…I’ll take a drink.” Misjantie sat in a chair beside me. “And Azusa—thanks for everything back during the wedding, man. I’ve got more customers now than ever.”

“Oh, no, I was just happy to see my daughters. They were adorable.”

“They totally were. I like to think I can throw a pretty good wedding. And you’ve got a long life ahead of you; you can use my temple as many times as you want.”

“Er, I’m not sure I want a life that’s full of weddings…”

“And the doors are wide open at the shrine in Flatta, too, man.”

As a result of the confusion that brought Misjantie and I together, we planted a small shrine in an open lot in Flatta. Well, it wasn’t a bad thing to have more worshippers in the village.

“Sure, I’ll let you know if I find anyone…”

“I’m holding you to it, man.”

Whoops, maybe I shouldn’t have made an empty promise…

“By the way, why did you come here today? Is it a World Spirit Summit meeting?”

Next plan: Change the subject. That was all I could really come up with. I still didn’t really understand spirit society.

“No way, man.”

“Then is it about weddings~?” Momma Yufufu called from the kitchen. “I have no intentions of getting married at all. I don’t even have a partner. Spirits would have to be together for such a long time; we would divorce when our personalities eventually clashed.”

If I were married for a thousand or two thousand years, every minor thing would start to irritate me. It’d be suffocating…

“You could just hold a ceremony and then live separately forever, man.”

I know she has her business to consider, but she’s way too honest about this…

“But nah, this has got nothing to do with weddings. I have some exhibition tickets I want you to have.”

An exhibition? They had those in this world, too, but only in larger towns and cities.

“What is it about, Misjantie?”

Of course, I wanted to know what they were exhibiting. A spirit was bringing us the tickets, after all.

“The tickets explain it better than I could, man. I dunno much about art.”

Misjantie produced a bundle of tickets. Wow, that was a lot.

“Does she not even know what millennium she’s commemorating?! And those numbers are huge!”

Had spirits been around that long…? But jellyfish had existed for sixty thousand years already. Even if humans were around then, they probably hadn’t even been wearing clothes yet.

“Oh yeah, Curalina is an artist… It’s hard to call it her job, though. I got the sense that for her, it was less about making a living and more like life itself.”

We modeled for her once, but she put us in really gloomy pictures.

“Other spirits told me they had extra tickets and dropped ’em in my lap. I was expecting a few, but now I have hundreds of ’em, man… They just told me to give ’em out during weddings or something…”

They were forcing them on her!

“Oh, is she okay just saying she’s a spirit here on the ticket?” I didn’t think spirits readily showed themselves to humans. But Curalina did have a private exhibition before…

“No worries, man. Humans wouldn’t believe her anyway. Especially since she’s a jellyfish spirit. You could tell them and they’d just go Pfft, whatever, man.”

“You’re right—they’d probably believe in a flame spirit, but a jellyfish spirit just sounds like an artist’s pseudonym!”

“Anyway, I heard from the wind spirits that Yufufu knew this jellyfish spirit, so I thought she might take some tickets.”

Those wind spirits sure were a bunch of gossips. Were they like the neighborhood grannies with nothing better to do?

“I see~ Here we go, the lemon tea with honey is ready~” Momma Yufufu came back holding a tray and sat down across from me. “Sure, I’ll take some, but I only really need ten or so. The World Spirit Summit won’t be for a little while longer. I think it’ll be maybe between ten to thirty years from now, or perhaps even forty to seventy years.”

Maybe all the spirits just had a broader view of time.

“Ten’s better’n none, man. Please help me get rid of these!”

I guess I should lend a hand, too, seeing as I have so many family members and demon acquaintances.

“Then could I take some? I do have people I could give them out to.”

Misjantie was way happier than I thought she’d be; she threw both her hands up in the air in some sort of power pose.

“Thanks, man! I’ll give ya ten percent off the next wedding you have with me!”

“No thanks. I’m not just going to casually have a bunch of weddings.” I took the bundle of tickets from Misjantie.

“The wind spirits were also gossiping about how there’s barely any people coming, and how Curalina wants more to drop by. Thanks so much, man. Thanks.”

It was like she was a high school friend with leftover tickets for her live concert.

“And stop saying thanks so much; you’ll wear it out.”

“By the way, where is this taking place?” Momma Yufufu rested her chin in one hand and turned the ticket over.

Now that she mentioned it, I noticed that the location wasn’t written on the front. I flipped mine over, too.

There was a map of a small island sitting in the middle of the ocean.

* * *

“She doesn’t want anyone to come!”

Could she have picked a place any more inconvenient…? Of course no one would show up…

“Ahhh, Curalina is holding this in her home region. She’s lived there for a very long time. She said she gets much more creative inspiration when she’s living on a small island away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”

“Spoken like a true artist—but what’s the point of holding an exhibition in a place no one can get to…?”

“Even a spirit would have trouble carrying large volumes of paintings. Perhaps that’s why she decided to hold it at her place.”

“That’s my guess, man. From what the wind spirits said, this is the biggest exhibition she’s ever held, so she wanted to do it close to home.”

Misjantie was getting all her information from the wind spirits… Could I trust her…?

“I also hear the islanders were pretty stoked about holding an exhibition for their island’s greatest artist, man.”

“Although there are fewer than three hundred of them.” A neatly delivered punch line from Momma Yufufu.

There probably weren’t any artists there besides Curalina.

“My family and the demons both have ways to get there, so we can go. I guess we should…”

“Please do,” said Momma Yufufu. “If she has other people to see her work, it will be very motivating for her.”

Well, now I had no choice but to go.

And an art museum would be great for my daughters’ education!

Several days later, everyone climbed aboard Laika and Flatorte and we all headed for the art museum built by the Forna Island Hometown Support Fund. Thanks to the dragons, we didn’t have to sit for seven hours on a boat that left once every three days.

It didn’t really matter, but I hoped they’d do something about that museum name. It sounded way too much like a failed public housing project that the local government wasted their money on.

And the demons were coming, too; I’d made sure we accommodated their schedule. It would be better if we all went as a big group.

“There are no art museums near the house in the highlands, so I’m honestly quite excited,” Laika said, flying in her dragon form.

I thought Laika might be interested in stuff like this. She was a refined young lady.

“Art museums, huh? There’s one in my home province, but I’ve never been,” Flatorte said flatly. That was exactly what I thought she’d say.

“You wouldn’t go to one even if it was right around the corner, would you?” Laika pointed out. I was thinking the same thing.

“None of them would let blue dragons in. To me, art museums are just somewhere I’m not supposed to go.”

She wasn’t even allowed to enter in the first place! I felt a little bad for her…

“Probably because two hundred years ago, my friends and I got a little out of hand inside one.”

“Then that’s your own fault! Please don’t make a mess of the place we’re going to…”

I still felt a twinge of worry when we landed at the art museum on Forna Island.

There was open-air seating right next to the museum—

And there, the demons were lounging, waiting for us.

“You’re all so prepared…”

Pecora, especially. She leaned back in her magnificent chair as if she were some kind of VIP, drinking orange juice or whatever.

On the other hand, Fatla the leviathan had brought her work with her and was writing something on a few documents. Totally different vibes. She could probably just relax here, I’m pretty sure.

“How wonderful it is to be visiting an art museum with you, Elder Sister, and so soon after our carriage journey! I was so excited that I came in the day before!”

I was happy that she was happy, but wasn’t that a little excessive?

Beelzebub was gazing at the stone structure that was the museum.

“How strange. This building is much too grand for an island this small. ’Tis most certainly beyond their scope. The costs of proper upkeep alone would be enough to put pressure on their funds.”

I was pretty sure this building’s existence had something to do with money politics, but I didn’t really want her to focus on anything but the exhibit.

“Master Beelzebub, my Fighsly-style slime fist could shatter these stones. They seem sturdy, but there are weaker points you can use to break them in half.”

Fighsly, can you not keep thinking of ways to destroy the building?

Well, I’d leave the demons to the demons. They were all adults, so they’d appreciate what was inside.

Actually, my main objective here was my daughters’ education. I gathered Falfa, Shalsha, and Sandra, then gave them some simple words of advice.

“Listen, okay? The museum looks pretty big, but don’t go chasing one another around. And remember your indoor voices—make sure not to bother the other people inside. This is a place to quietly look at the art. Got it?”

“Okay! Falfa will behave! I’ll watch Sandra, too!”

“Sheesh, Falfa. I’m always quiet. Hey, I bet I could fit my roots between the gaps of the stones in the walls.”

Why was this group so obsessed with the building itself?

“There is no need for you to worry, Mom. I know that singing loudly in an exhibition hall is unconscionable.”

Shalsha would definitely be okay… A young girl who used the word unconscionable would probably never cause a ruckus, ever.

We all went inside the museum together, handed over our tickets, and checked out the first panel.

I wasn’t sure that was actually praise, but maybe I was imagining things…

She had five full sections for us to look at, though, which meant she was serious about this show. I’ll just drop it…

The themes were heavy right from the start!

All her paintings felt dark, probably because of the colors she used.

She painted a picture like this before, didn’t she…?

“I see. Even though it’s a festival day, it’s raining rather hard. That is why the faces of the people walking around look so troubled.” Laika was staring intensely at the piece. She was the type to take her time.

Flatorte was only glancing at them before moving on with no intentions of appreciating the art.

My girls seemed at least mildly interested: “It’s so scary…” “This is a masterpiece.” “I wonder how long this took to make.” I kind of thought that some art with brighter themes might be better, but their reactions generally made it worth bringing them here.

Maybe art shouldn’t be too bright. I mean, I don’t think I’d get much out of a book about someone who gets up early, goes jogging before they go to work at a job they love and appreciate, then returns home on time and gets a good night’s sleep.

Maybe that awareness of issues is necessary for art… In that case, maybe Curalina’s right…

I didn’t give that too much thought, though, as we moved on to the second section. Well, as Pecora dragged me to the second section by the arm. I had a feeling she was trying to get us alone…

I wasn’t sure what the difference was between this section and the first…

The first piece was a painting of a general making a triumphant return to his kingdom.

“Hey, this one’s happy!”

“Elder Sister, this general will be killed beneath his victory archway on suspicion of treason in two months’ time. I’m certain she created this to express the contrast with his impending execution.”

“Oh…”

The themes were still dark!

All the pieces after that had a lot of terrible meanings to them.

Even Rosalie thought the exhibit was gloomy. It had to be if a ghost said so…

There were still three more sections, so I wondered where the mood might change. We kept going.

This girl is dark to the bone!

I couldn’t yell inside the art museum, so I kept my complaints to myself.

Shouldn’t she at least include something milder? This art is so depressing…

Pecora had started getting glum, too. “Elder Sister, I don’t want to be the demon king anymore…”

“Hey! Come on! Cheer up! I-it’s just the paintings, I’m sure!”

Hold on… If Pecora’s taking this much damage, then what about Laika? She’s been taking the time to appreciate all the pictures…

I found her sitting lifelessly on a bench in one of the galleries.

“Perhaps life has no meaning. But no one wants to acknowledge the emptiness of their existence, so everyone struggles to keep on living, perhaps. Ha-ha-ha… Whether I die tomorrow or in a thousand years, it would be exactly the same…”

“Laika, think positively! The paintings here have a powerful influence, that’s all! I’m sure that’s it!”

Also, there weren’t many other guests here, but from what I could hear, there were apparently some very passionate repeat customers.

“How many times have you been now?”

“This is visit number six. I’m staying here on the island for three weeks.”

“It’s so nice to be able to see Curalina this much, isn’t it?”

“Talk about a sight for sore eyes, huh?”

It sounded like these paintings were readily embraced by a select group of people.

Oh yeah, I wonder if my girls are okay…

I hurriedly went to look for the three, and I found them more energetic than I’d expected.

“Falfa got bored halfway through…”

“I don’t know much about art, but I don’t think this painter has much variety in knowledge and experience. I don’t think she’s trying to say anything deep; it’s just the only style she can paint. That’s why they’re all like this.”

“From what Shalsha could see, there were several good pieces, but nothing that could really be categorized as an opus or a masterpiece.”

The children were interacting with the pieces fairly impassively. I didn’t want them to be too influenced by the pictures, so maybe their reactions were appropriate.

Not everyone was finished looking around; we had people at both ends of the spectrum of museum interaction.

Flatorte was the first to finish, and she was just sleeping on one of the couches.

“It’s so quiet; I can sleep so well… This couch has the perfect firmness. I could come all the way here to sleep…”

I think she was trying to be nice, but that was a rude thing to say about the art museum.

“What did you think…?”

Then a sickly-sounding voice came from behind me.

I turned around, and there was the jellyfish spirit Curalina herself. Just like last time, the way her black hair hid her left eye reminded me of a phantom. And even though we were inside, she was wearing her backpack.

“Witch of the Highlands… Please tell me…your honest opinion,” she said, her expression tired and almost anemic.

Urgh, I’m not sure how to answer that… Would it be bad if I said it was too dark…?

“Uhhh… I don’t really know a lot about this stuff, so I’m not sure what to say…”

“Has it dampened your mood like it’s supposed to? Are you in emotional pain?”

“So you wanted me to feel this way?!”

“Yes. I believe it is the job of art to expose the ugliness within our hearts.”

Maybe that philosophy works for the artist, but your poor audience!

“I traveled all over the world to observe how dreadful people are.”

“That’s why you’re a wanderer?!”

She’s sharing some pretty important experiences with me…

“What makes a creature interesting is its ugliness, you see. That is where it shows its true colors.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa! This spirit is dropping some heavy philosophy on me!

“Of course, every species has its upstanding, saintlike individuals. I will not deny that. But there are only a handful of those; more than half of any species consists of fools. The fools are the ones who inspire me to create,” she explained, blank-faced. This was unexpected…

“Yeah… I felt the ugliness… It was like a stone weighing on my heart…”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

You are?

But…there was tragedy all over the world, so I guess I just had to think of it that way…

Our conversation ground to a halt after that. What else was there to say about it? Plus, we weren’t super close or anything…

“Jellyfish are transparent.”

The conversation suddenly started again. What was this about?

“That transparency allows us to see all the ugliness inside.”

That was a deep and heavy thing for her to say! Not only that, I could just faintly see the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. That makes her happy?!

“…Jellyfish look like they aren’t thinking about anything.”

And the conversation took another startling leap.

My image of jellyfish was that they did indeed float around without a thought in their minds, but I wondered: If I agreed with her, would she get mad? She was the jellyfish spirit, after all… I couldn’t be too careful, so I took the safe route.

“B-but maybe they think about a lot…”

“They truly think about nothing. Nothing at all.”

I was right the first time!

“However, that means they do not have wicked hearts. They are pure—jellyfish are aware, and their minds are clear. All living beings should learn from jellyfish.” Her logic was getting even more extreme. “And yet other creatures cannot be jellyfish, meaning they are ugly at heart. It is true. Er, yes. Jellyfiiish. Jellyfiiish.”

She just came out of nowhere and presented her thesis to me. And where did jellyfiiish come from?

In a way, she seemed more like a spirit when she was being incomprehensible. In fact, Momma Yufufu and Misjantie had acclimated so well to the human world, I was almost worried.

“It is fun to paint the truth. Once I feel like traveling, I will set off again. Thank you for listening.”

The conversation ended for real this time.

She truly was something of an artist. She’d lived for such a long time; of course she’d eventually find this remote region.

“I would like to talk if you have another hour, but you don’t want to hear it, do you?”

“I’m sorry. I brought a lot of people along with me, so maybe next time…”

Flatorte might end up acting out if we stayed still for too long.

“Okay, Miss Curalina, good luck with your paintings. I mean, I think you’d do well even if I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes. I will continue to look for the ugliness in all things. There is truth in the ugliness. I will continue to float along like a jellyfish. Jellyfiiish.”

Was that jellyfiiish thing her idea of a joke? Couldn’t she explain what that was?

“Okay, I think I’ll take another pass through the exhibit… Some of our group should still be looking around…”

“Of course, take your time. There is also a museum shop, so please take a look at that as well.”

The area Curalina pointed to was surrounded by a massive negative aura.

“There are plenty of things in stock, such as an illustrated record of all the paintings in the exhibit, postcards that will make the receiver uncomfortable, stuffed dolls that will make you feel unlucky just by holding them, and so on.”

“Miss Curalina… You’re not really planning on selling anything, are you…?”

“I don’t have to. Selling is just an expression.”

I don’t get artists.

Okay, it was past time for me to round up everyone else and make my escape.

I still hadn’t checked on how the demons were reacting to this. Pecora’s mood had miraculously tanked, I knew.

Then I heard Beelzebub’s voice coming from the exhibit hall.

“Oh, my word! This is incredible!”

I wondered what picture could possibly be so incredible, especially since that wasn’t a normal reaction.

I rushed over to her—but not too loudly.

Beelzebub was staring up in awe at a painting that depicted a ruin.

To describe it using a word from my previous life, it looked like a pyramid.