The Main Artist

Noah let out a deep sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. His whole body ached, not from bruises or wounds, but from sheer exhaustion. It felt like he hadn't properly rested in days. He glanced around Liam's house—it was still a disaster.

Henry's men had trashed the place, knocking over furniture, shattering glass, and leaving the entire house looking like it had been hit by a hurricane.

"No wonder Liam made me clean this up…" Noah muttered to himself, rolling up his sleeves.

He started with the broken glass, carefully picking up each shard and tossing it into the trash. Then he moved on to putting everything back in place—fixing overturned chairs, wiping the dirt off the counters, collecting random objects thrown around the room.

As he worked, he let his mind wander.

Everything that had happened over the past few days… it still felt surreal. The fights, the injuries, the chaos—now, all of a sudden, life was moving on.

And yet, something still felt unfinished.

Just as he was about to take a break, he heard voices outside. The front door creaked open.

Noah turned, expecting trouble, but instead, he saw Maiya and Ryan stepping inside.

Maiya's face was lit with excitement, while Ryan… well, Ryan looked like someone had just told him his entire existence was pointless.

"Noah! You ready?" Maiya asked, bouncing on her heels.

Noah blinked. "Ready for what?"

Maiya rolled her eyes. "The art battle, obviously! We still need to pick a main artist."

Noah hesitated. "Oh, right… but, after everything that's happened, I thought we'd—"

"The past is the past," Maiya interrupted, crossing her arms. "We need to move on. We can't just sit around thinking about what happened forever."

Noah stared at her for a moment, then let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, you're right."

Ryan groaned. "Okay, can we skip the whole emotional moment? Have you finished your drawing, kid?"

Noah nodded. "Yeah, I have."

"Great. Then we're gonna show them to each other, and the best artist wins."

Noah shrugged. "Alright."

Maiya frowned at Ryan. "You know, you could at least say that in a nicer way."

Ryan scoffed. "Shut the fuck up, I'm still pissed about how you guys destroyed my fucking place yesterday."

Maiya sighed. "And we told you we'd help clean it up."

Ryan folded his arms. "Clean up my ass." He huffed. "Anyway, I'm still in your group because you're all gonna be in the Three-Chapter Tournament."

Maiya smirked. "Yeah, yeah, we know."

"Great," Ryan grumbled. "Then let's just pick the damn artist already."

Noah chuckled. "Alright."

Ryan took a deep breath and brought out his tablet, holding it up for them to see.

On the screen was a character— a demi-god with wings, one angelic and one demonic. The figure was covered in swirling chaotic energy, his hands glowing with raw power. The colors were striking, the shading was solid, and the character's pose was dynamic.

But something was missing.

The background was empty, the composition felt incomplete. It was a great concept, but it lacked depth—there was no real world, no story behind it.

Maiya tilted her head. "That's pretty good."

Noah nodded. "Yeah… it's nice."

Ryan clicked his tongue. "Tch." He quickly turned away, muttering, "Didn't even go all out."

Maiya smirked. "Sure, Ryan. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Ryan shot her a glare. "I swear to god, I will throw you out of this house."

Maiya ignored him and pulled out her own tablet. "Alright, here's mine."

She turned the screen toward them, revealing a drawing of a princess sitting on a massive throne, her posture regal, her expression unreadable. Around her, soldiers knelt, their heads bowed in loyalty. The lighting was dramatic, golden sunlight filtering through tall stained-glass windows. The details of the armor, the throne, even the folds in the princess's dress—it all told a story.

Ryan muttered under his breath, "Damn it…"

Maiya smirked. "Shocked, Ryan?"

Ryan crossed his arms. "You just got lucky. I didn't go all out."

Maiya snickered. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

Ryan grumbled something unintelligible but said nothing more.

Maiya turned to Noah. "Alright, your turn."

Noah hesitated, then pulled out his tablet. "Here."

He flipped the screen toward them.

A paladin, clad in battle-worn armor, knelt before a massive statue of a god. His head was bowed in silent prayer, his hands gripping the hilt of his sword. Around him, priests and monks stood in reverence, their robes flowing in the candlelit temple. His armor was scratched and dented, evidence of countless battles. A deep scar ran across his face, a testament to the trials he had endured.

The image radiated history. The world felt alive.

Maiya's eyes widened. "This… This is so awesome, Noah!"

Noah scratched the back of his head. "Thanks."

Ryan stared at it for a long moment before finally muttering, "It's good… but not that much."

Maiya rolled her eyes. "Oh, grow up, Ryan."

Ryan scoffed. "Bitch."

Maiya glared. "I will kill you."

Ryan smirked. "I'd love to see you try."

Maiya took a deep breath, clearly stopping herself from tackling him. Then, she exhaled and turned to Noah. "Well, I guess we know who the winner is."

Noah blinked. "Really? Who?"

Ryan gave him a flat look. "Don't play dumb, you idiot. It's obviously you."

Noah grinned. "Oh. Cool."

Ryan huffed. "But just so you know, you got lucky that I don't usually draw fantasy."

Noah smirked. "Noted."

Maiya clapped her hands. "Alright, so that's settled. Noah's our main artist!"

Noah nodded. "So… what now?"

Maiya leaned against the wall. "Now we wait for Kevin to finish writing the story. Normally, Liam helps with that, but since he's in the hospital, it's all on Kevin this time."

Noah nodded. "I see."

Maiya stretched her arms. "Well, we should get going. Got some things to do."

Noah smiled. "Alright. See you later."

Maiya waved. "Bye-bye~"

Ryan grunted. "Later, dumbass."

With that, the two of them walked out, still arguing as they left.

Now, Noah was alone again.

He looked around Liam's house—still a mess, but a little better than before.

Letting out a small sigh, he rolled up his sleeves again.

Time to finish cleaning.

And with that, he got back to work