Chapter 149: Elf Graffiti

Under everyone’s watchful gaze, Luca walked toward the area where the targets were set up.

The elves assumed he was going to set up another target, perhaps to demonstrate what this strange gun could do.

But to their surprise, he didn’t do that at all.

Instead, he opened another portal—this one slightly larger than before. And to their astonishment, large wooden boards began to fly out.

Thick planks, the kind normally used to build small sheds or fences.

They kept coming, one after another, stacking up on the grass until there was a small mountain of lumber.

Luca then got to work.

He picked up the boards, arranged them, produced a hammer and nails from seemingly nowhere and he began constructing something.

Propping boards upright, bracing them, making sure they stood straight and firm.

And just like that, board after board went up, side by side, until a long wooden wall began to take shape.

It grew and grew, stretching across the clearing like a massive fence, until finally it stood at least fifteen meters in length—a solid barrier of layered wood planks.

Luna couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.

“Luca, what are you doing? Are you trying to build a house or something? Do you need help?”

Luca didn’t respond. He was focused, checking the wall’s alignment, making sure it was straight and sturdy.

He added a few more support beams, tested the structure with his weight, and finally stepped back with a satisfied nod.

He then turned to face the gathered elves, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.

“I know you’re all confused.” Luca began, brushing wood dust from his hands. “Why would I build a wall of planks in the middle of your village? What does this have to do with showing you what a gun can do?”

He paused, letting the questions hang in the air.

“Before I explain that, I need you to do me a favor.”

The elves leaned in eagerly.

“That favor is to draw.”

Blank stares.

“Draw?” Luna repeated, her brow furrowing. “You want us to…draw as in like colouring or painting?”

“Exactly. I want you to use that wall as a canvas. Cover it with your art.”

Before anyone could ask anything about his strange request, he looked out at the crowd and asked,

“How many of you are actually good at drawing? Or at least have some level of decent skill?”

Hands shot up immediately.

“Me! Me!” One elf bounced on her heels. “I can draw really well! I’m especially good at trees and forest scenes!”

Another raised her hand more modestly.

“I…I paint flowers. People say they look almost real.”

A third elf, older and more dignified, cleared her throat.

“I’m usually the one who does family portraits. I’m no master, but I capture likenesses reasonably well.”

More and more hands joined them.

Luca nodded approvingly. “Good, good. That’s exactly what we need. But I don’t just want the artists…”

“…I want everyone to participate.”

He opened another small portal, and this time, supplies began to emerge.

Markers in every color imaginable. Paintbrushes and pots of vibrant paint. Colored pencils, charcoal sticks, pastels—a complete artist’s arsenal.

And seeing this, the more artistically inclined elves gasped.

Their eyes went dreamy, sparkling with recognition that these were tools for creation, even if they’d never seen such perfect implements before.

“These are art supplies from my world.” Luca explained. “Much easier to use than ash and dye, I promise. Brighter colors. Smoother application. They won’t smudge as easily either.”

“Now, here’s what I want you to do.”

He swept his hand toward the wall and explained saying,

“I want every single one of you to go to that wall and draw a self-portrait. A life-sized portrait.”

“If you’re short, draw yourself short. If you’re tall, draw yourself tall. But I want you on that wall—your own representation of yourself.”

Confusion rippled through the crowd.

“But Hero.” One elf protested. “I can’t draw at all! I’ve never been able to! I’ll just make a mess!”

“Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you.”

Luca waved away her concern.

“Just do your best. Try to capture who you are and put that on the wall. If you need help, ask the more skilled artists. Think of it as a group art project.”

He looked at the wall, then back at the elves.

“By the end of this, I want this entire wall to be filled with all of you. Every single elf, represented in some way, standing together in a line.”

Luna opened her mouth to ask the obvious question—what does this have to do with the gun, what is he really planning—but before she could speak, a enthusiastic voice cut through the crowd.

“ME FIRST! ME FIRST!”

A young elf had already grabbed a handful of markers and was sprinting toward the wall.

“I’m going to draw myself right in the center! And I’m going to make myself look so pretty and adorable!”

Her excitement was infectious and it spread to the others.

“Wait for me! I want to draw myself too!”

“I’ll be right next to you!”

“I’m not good at drawing, but I’ll try my best!”

“You! You’re good at portraits! Draw me when you’re done with yourself—make me look beautiful!”

What started as a strange request quickly transformed into something wonderful.

Elves rushed to the supplies, grabbing whatever caught their eye.

They then clustered around the wall, finding their spots, claiming their territory.

And soon, the entire wall was covered with elves at work.

The little ones claimed the lower sections, standing on tiptoes or sitting on the ground to reach their spots.

Their drawings were pure childhood—big heads, stick limbs, enormous smiles, and an abundance of hearts and flowers around themselves.

Some drew themselves with wings, others with crowns, a few with what appeared to be pet monsters by their sides.

It was adorable.

The more skilled artists worked on their sections with focused intensity.

One elf created a stunningly realistic portrait of herself, complete with intricate details in her hair and clothing.

Another painted herself mid-laugh, capturing the exact sparkle in her eyes.

A third had somehow managed to make herself look like a forest spirit, merging with leaves and vines in a beautiful display of creativity.

And then there were those who struggled.

“I look like a potato with hair.” One elf groaned, staring at her attempt.

“At least you have hair.” Her friend shot back. “I just drew a circle with eyes and called it a day.”

“You both look better than me. I think I accidentally gave myself three arms.”

“Maybe you’re secretly a monster in disguise?”

“Shut UP!”

Laughter rang through the clearing.

The elves teased each other mercilessly but always with affection, always with smiles.

Someone would mess up, and her friends would laugh, and then they’d help her fix it.

Someone would finish a particularly good section, and others would gather to admire and compliment.

Even the elves who had been watching from the tree platforms couldn’t resist.

One by one, they climbed down and joined the project, finding their own spaces on the wall, adding themselves to the growing tapestry of elf-kind.

Lulu and Luna also found their spot near the middle.

Lulu struck a pose—hand on hip, chest out, chin lifted—while Luna attempted to capture her sister’s likeness.

“Draw me properly, Luna!” Lulu commanded. “And don’t make me look FAT! I will be SO angry if you make me look fat!”

Luna rolled her eyes but focused on her work.

“Make my butt bigger, actually.” Lulu added as an afterthought. “I want a big, plump butt. That’s my identity. Make sure everyone knows!”

Luna’s eye twitched. “Then turn around and show me your butt so I can draw it properly!”

And to her surprise, Lulu actually spun around shamelessly and stuck her posterior out proudly.

“See?! See how magnificent it is?! Capture that beauty, sister! Capture it if you can!”

Grumbling but secretly amused, Luna did exactly that, and surprisingly well

. The resulting portrait captured Lulu’s essence perfectly—confident, ridiculous, and unmistakably herself.

Nearby, Leona was trying very hard to escape.

“I don’t want to do this.” She muttered, backing away from the wall. “This is ridiculous. I’m not an artist. I have no business—”

Nyx grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“Oh no you don’t.” Nyx’s grip was surprisingly strong. “I don’t care if you draw a beautiful artistic masterpiece or a complete stick figure. You’re going to draw something.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out of this.”

Leona groaned. “Nyx, please—”

“Draw.”

Leona looked at her sister’s determined face and sighed in defeat.

She grabbed a marker and approached the wall with all the enthusiasm of someone walking toward their own execution and began to draw.

It was, as promised, terrible.

A stick figure with exaggerated features and what might have been breasts or might have been lumps. She added a bow because that was her thing, then stared at it with deep dissatisfaction.

Nyx, meanwhile, began her own self-portrait.

Her drawing style was…distinctive.

The figure she sketched looked less like an elf and more like a demon, complete with sharp teeth, dangerous horns, and weapons scattered all around.

It was simultaneously terrifying and hilarious.

Luca, watching from a short distance away, found himself genuinely charmed by the scene.

These were the same elves who had been so worried, so insecure about their abilities just minutes ago.

Now they were laughing, painting, celebrating themselves in all their flawed, beautiful glory.

It also didn’t take long for the wall to be completely covered.

Every inch of that fifteen-meter stretch was filled with color and life.

Realistic portraits sat next to stick figures.

Beautiful paintings neighbored childish scribbles.

Some elves had drawn themselves with their families, others with their best friends, a few with their favorite animals or weapons or flowers.

And somehow, despite the chaos, despite the varying skill levels, despite everything—it was beautiful.

It was them.

All of them.

Together.

Then, one of the younger elves noticed the art supplies still scattered on the ground.

She picked up a bunch of marker, turning it over in her hands with wonder.

“Hero?” She approached Luca, eyes shining. “Can we keep these? Please?”

Others noticed and quickly joined.

“Yeah, these are amazing! Usually we have to use charcoal and resin and it’s so messy and difficult, but these are so smooth!”

“And the colours! Look at all the colours! We’ve never had colours like this!”

“Please, Hero? Can we please keep them?”

Luca looked at their eager faces, at the hope shining in their eyes, and he smiled warmly.

“Of course you can.”

The elves cheered, but he held up a hand.

“That’s the least I can do, honestly. After what I’m about to do…”

His smile faded slightly, replaced by something more serious.

“Consider it my apology.”

The elves exchanged confused glances.

“Apology?” One asked. “But Hero, you haven’t done anything wrong. Why would you need to apologize?”

Luca’s smile didn’t waver, but something in his eyes darkened.

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

Before anyone could question him further, the excited elves grabbed their new art supplies and scampered away, too thrilled by their treasure to dwell on his cryptic words.

Luca watched them go, then turned to face the wall.

The wall covered in self-portraits.

The wall that held the image of every single elf in the village.

He then looked down at the gun in his hands.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.” He whispered, so quietly that no one could hear. “But all you need to understand.”

He then raised his voice and said,

“Everyone. I need you to step away from the wall now. All the way back. Behind me.”

“I think it’s better to distance yourself away from that wall after what I’m about to do to it.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep