Chapter 10

“Lanelli? Is it the Lanelli I know?”

“Oh my, did Lanelli Café move to Pervellum Street? Ah, not the café, just the candy workshop?”

“Oh, goodness! No wonder the café expanded up to the second floor!”

People’s curiosity was instantly piqued.

However, the shop declared its main focus would be on producing goods in the workshop. There were no café seats for dining in; instead, it operated mainly through takeout visits and reserved pickups.

At first, people were a bit disappointed, but soon adapted and were satisfied. Since it was mainly takeout, prices were lower than those at cafés, and above all, ‘Rose Sweets’ were only available for reservation at this workshop.

In fact, as the popularity of Rose Sweets grew, many customers felt burdened. Since there were many young visitors to the café, Rose Sweets were, in some ways, almost like an aphrodisiac. Thus, it wasn’t uncommon for people to send servants or agents instead of visiting themselves.

Although now Rose Sweets could only be purchased in the mornings at the new workshop, customers were satisfied and took them home packaged.

The arrival of Lanelli Candy Workshop brought more changes than just that. Several cafés opened in the buildings across from the workshop, making the commercial district livelier.

Café owners allowed customers to bring and eat desserts bought from Lanelli Candy Workshop. The drinks were somewhat expensive, but well worth it. In the afternoons, crowds gathered to witness the ‘explosion’ happening at the workshop. It was already a famous event back when the shop was on Krüzel Street, so many regretted the move to Pervellum Street.

Café owners responded precisely to these customers’ needs, starting new services. Building owners with empty second floors were also very pleased. In fact, the area near the entrance to Workshop Street had always struggled to attract tenants.

Even the residents of Workshop Street gradually became more favorable toward Lanelli Candy Workshop. As the workshop brought more cafés, the flow of people increased, and so did product sales.

From major artworks to small accessories and simple decorations, everything sold well, and the street became increasingly lively. Even artists who initially frowned soon grew more positive as consignment sales increased.

It was hard to believe that so much change had come from just one candy workshop opening. At some point, people’s attitudes softened and became gentle.

It was as if everyone welcomed Lanelli Candy Workshop.

Everyone except Reinhardt Baristan.

Reinhardt, in fact, had no interest in the candy workshop. He didn’t even realize such a shop had opened on the street. Though the increase in people brought some unpleasant incidents, he could laugh them off.

The incident happened suddenly, without warning. It was literally an explosion.

That day, Reinhardt woke up before sunrise, as usual, washed reverently, and changed into clean clothes. He watched the sun rise while slowly drinking a strong cup of coffee, then began his work.

This habit had naturally developed while learning vegetarian illustration from the priests at the monastery. Of course, the priests didn’t drink coffee every day.

In the monastery, where poverty was emphasized, beverages like coffee were considered luxuries. Nowadays, coffee had become quite popular, but just a few years ago, it was still expensive.

Tea was similar, so in the monastery, they often drank beverages made by roasting plant roots or grains instead of tea. Thinking about those times brought a smile to Reinhardt’s lips.

After finishing his coffee and wiping his mouth clean, Reinhardt began his day by entering his studio and checking the work he had prepared the previous day.

His daily work varied. Sometimes, he spent several days sketching with a pencil to plan designs. Other days, he searched for reference materials for detailed designs all day. There were times when he focused solely on intricate line work.

Among all tasks, pigment coloring was the most challenging. On coloring days, he felt a sense of solemnity. Some pigments, once dried, were difficult to correct, so he sometimes had to discard the work and start over with detailed illustrations.

First, he looked at the design and decided which parts to color that day. He chose the colors precisely for those areas, ground the appropriate gemstones, and mixed the right solvents for each. From then on, it was a race against time, because he had to finish coloring before the pigment dried.

To be called a master artisan, the pigment should neither remain nor run out after coloring.

The monastery’s masters, even in their eighties, never went outside the lines or left excess pigment. They were gentle with children but strict when teaching, so Reinhardt naturally adopted their strictness.

The coloring process could take half a day for smaller or less detailed illustrations, or several days or even months for more intricate ones.

Especially sacred texts dedicated to the temple were four to six times larger than ordinary books, so the illustrations were bigger and needed to be far more detailed. Naturally, the work took a long time.

The same went for painting sacred images to decorate the shrine where the Pope’s relics would be enshrined. Even if it wasn’t a colored illustration, the Great Temple had so many artists and sculptors that it seemed to overflow.

Yet, this dreamlike task had been entrusted to Reinhardt alone.

It was an honor. Both tasks were something any colored illustrator would dream of doing at least once in their life. It was an achievement worthy of being recorded for a lifetime.

Especially since it was for the Pope he had met as a child, it carried even greater meaning. He wanted to do his best, to create a sacred image that would amaze everyone.

Today was finally the day Reinhardt would apply pigment to the colored illustration that would decorate the cover of the sacred text. Although it wasn’t large enough to cover the entire front, the sacred text itself was so big that even the illustration was substantial. It had to be extremely detailed and meticulous.

He did his best not to let his hands tremble from the design to the line work. He checked and rechecked until he was certain he could apply pigment.

He carefully ground the pigment and mixed the right solvent. He paid attention to the speed and direction so that no air would get in and the mixture would be uniform. Then, he quickly applied the pigment onto the design. He had to move his hand fast and accurately before the pigment dried.

From the wide-open sky, light poured down; divine messengers soared through the heavens, God’s representatives looked down upon the earth, while the faithful gazed upward in reverence. Symbols of God such as lilies and roses, and twelve stars shining among the clouds.

Reinhardt mixed and applied the pigments as quickly as he chose the colors. As the pigment dried, he tidied up his surroundings and prepared the next pigment.

Immersed in his work, Reinhardt poured all his focus and passion into the coloring, forgetting both food and water.

Suddenly, an unexpected explosion shook the workshop.

Bang! Crackle, Pop, Pow!

He froze in shock, his hand trembling so much that the tip of his brush quivered.

It was a moment when his long-trained composure proved its worth. If not for that, he might have ruined the colored illustration entirely. Even with his calm and quick reflexes stopping the brush, he noticed a slight slip outside the lines.

“Ha, honestly.”

Reinhardt clicked his tongue unconsciously. Fortunately, it was a part he could somewhat fix. He gently scraped it off with a knife before the pigment dried. The rest would have to be corrected after it dried.

He swiftly cleaned up around the illustration. Thanks to his habit of tidying up after each use of pigment, nothing was left to spill.

He accomplished all this in an instant, then straightened his bent back. Only then did he have time to look around. Despite the earlier explosion, the surroundings had already returned to quiet.

“…Ah.”

He had forgotten to activate the soundproof magic circle. Maybe that was why he hadn’t heard anything. Reinhardt quickly got up and unlatched the window.

The Mage Tower’s mage had explained that for a semi-permanent soundproof magic to work, physical noise-blocking was necessary. Following that advice, Reinhardt had embedded magical open-close devices in the latches of windows and doors.

When he opened the window, the everyday street noises rushed in—the sound of wind shaking the trees, the distant, collective movement of people.

“…What’s going on?”