Balsa set up a carriage and returned to his studio.

What used to be the studio of Master Vallo is now inherited by him.

I took out the key and was about to open the door, when I was suddenly stunned.

Did you just see something strange?

Looking up at the left diagonally, four or five meters above the ground, much higher than the outer edge of the window of the ordinary building, there was a man in armor who was priing the window with the sword in his hand.

"Armored monsters!"

The other party's fame naturally made Balsa recognize the identity of the person who came immediately, and he fell to the ground in fright, and the key was not grasped steadily, and fell to the side.

Wren finally "noticed" that the owner of the studio had returned, so he put away the "Foiled" sword, and at the same time had one more thing in his hand: a window.

"Ah~ So there are people living here."

Wren greeted Balsa - holding a window in his hand.

In fact, he had followed Balsa all the way, but he arrived a little earlier after confirming his destination.

Seeing Balsa sitting on the ground, looking at him in fright, Wren looked at the window in his hand and suddenly realized, "Oh, sorry, forgot, I'll put it back for you."

After saying that, he pressed the window against the frame, but after letting go of his hand, he immediately let out a "Oops!" A bang.

Balsa couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear the sound of something falling to the ground and shattering from inside the house.

When he came back to his senses, the armored monster was already standing in front of him, looking down at him, and even bent down and stretched out his hand, causing Balsa to retreat in fright.

But the expected pain didn't come, and the armored monster just picked up the key that had fallen to the side.

"Don't be nervous."

Wren opened the door and said, "I just heard that Master Vallo's Life series has a new work, and I want to see it."

At the mention of the painting, Baltha's fear suddenly disappeared, and he asked vigilantly and eagerly, "How do you know? What are you going to do?!"

After saying that, a strong fear came up - this is the armor monster!

In particular, the armored monster did not answer, but said to him, "Wait a minute", and lowered his head to find the key to open the door.

Balsa was even wondering if he might take the opportunity to escape.

But when he struggled inwardly for a long time, and finally was ready to open the boil, "Kacha", the door opened.

Wren pushed open the door and entered the room, casually looking like his territory, looked back at Baltha, who was still sitting on the ground, and invited as a guest: "Aren't you coming in?"

Balsa almost cried, but he didn't dare to say no, so he crawled and followed.

Wren surveyed the room and answered his previous question.

"Since you recognize me, you should know that I used to say that I was a treasure thief." Wren walked and walked, suddenly turning around, startling Baltha: "By the way, what was my name at that time?"

Seeing that Balsa couldn't say it, he didn't care: "It doesn't matter, it's just made up casually anyway." Anyway, I love treasures, so I've come to see Master Vallo's last work."

"No!"

Wren looked down at Baltha's hand stretched out towards him, and became more interested in the painting: "You care about this painting very much?"

….

After perceiving Wren's gaze, Balza retracted his hand, his whole body was trembling, but his mouth defended: "It was created by the teacher before he died, and as the teacher's only apprentice, I must protect it so that the world can see the teacher's talent and not let this painting be buried."

Wren waved his hand and said disapprerovingly, "It's not a big deal, you tell them that they stole it from the armor monsters, and everyone will know how good this painting is."

"But..."

Wren interrupted Bartha, stopping outside a door, "It should be here."

He pushed open the door and entered, and inside was a small warehouse with wooden shelves and old painting tools. The ground was filthy enough, and it was sprinkled with each other

There are a lot of miscellaneous pigments, and there are a lot of footprints.

Directly below the window on the inner wall was the window that Wren had brought down earlier.

What is already broken cannot be broken anymore.

What Wren was concerned about was a wooden shelf with a lot of scrolls of drawing paper.

He walked over, picked up a random scroll, and flattened it to see that it was a stick figure, and the style of the painting was quite sloppy, and it could only be seen that it was an old man's image.

It's strange that the eyes are not drawn.

Wren took another scroll, which also depicted an old man without eyes.

Check the others, and they're all similar.

"What are these?"

Barsa replied tremblingly, "The teacher's self-portrait, the teacher's since... Ever since I've been getting older, I've been drawing this a lot, saying that I can see myself clearly. It's all painted casually, and in addition to these here, there are actually a lot of them, all of which have been disposed of, worthless, and are all piled up here at random."

[Stable operation for many years, comparable to the old version of the book-chasing artifact, the old bookworms are using the source change, huann.]

Seeing Wren looking at him, he hurriedly added, "Of course you can sell it for a little money if you want to."

Wren didn't care about that, he pointed to the painting in his hand, "This is your teacher's self-portrait? Is he blind?"

Balsa shook his head: "Of course not, although it is not impossible for a blind person to draw at all, but my teacher is a master, not to mention that he is best known for his extreme use of color, how can he be blind."

Wren roughly understood that it should be the only thing he saw, so he didn't ask any more questions.

Before leaving the room, Balsa suddenly remembered that the teacher had once said that he was blind.

But what the teacher said about it, how did the armor monster see it?

With trepidation, Barsa continued to follow Wren.

Not long after, the two stopped in front of a painting.

"This is the Field?" After asking Wren, he reacted, "The Field" has been sold, and this is certainly not the real thing at the moment.

"This is my imitation, and it has been approved by the teacher."

Balsa said with a little pride, and this painting was his most successful model—what he thought was it.

He told the others that Master Vallow was so pleased with it that he allowed it to be exhibited.

In fact, the painting had been kept until after the death of Master Vallo and was able to hang it in his studio.

"But it's a little different from the real thing I've seen before."

Wren stepped forward and took a closer look at the picture, he didn't know much about it, and he hadn't even seen the real thing on the spot, but he could clearly feel the difference between the two paintings.

In his impression of the original "Field", the wheat fields painted were yellowish and lifeless.

"But this one of you, this paint seems to be a lot brighter."

The gap is visible at a glance, after all, the emotion that this "Field" wants to express is "joy".

Silver pile knife