Helping with Adventurer Party Management - Chapter 319

“To sum up, the technology is immature, the techniques are unrefined, artists are not being trained, and there’s no clear path to recover the costs of developing tools,” Deacon Michelino summarizes.

Hearing it listed out so plainly makes the situation sound worse than I’d anticipated. “That’s true,” I admit.

“But it’s a pity,” Deacon Michelino mutters, his gaze fixed on the parchment in front of him, which features a vivid illustration of a demonic wolf. “I’ve never had the chance to see a demonic wolf in person. Even when I accompany you to the farm, Kenji, I’m terrified just hearing its growls. If I had seen a picture like this beforehand, my impression would have been completely different.”

Previously, as part of a deal with Father Nicolo, I took Deacon Michelino and two other deacons to the farm on a teaching internship. At the time, I heightened their awareness of the monster threat to drive the lesson home.

Perhaps Deacon Michelino still remembers that experience.

“I think it would be a shame to let this technology go to waste. Instead of monopolizing or banning it, why not make it public and encourage its use?”

Deacon Michelino blinks, caught off guard by my suggestion. He is silent for a moment, then sits back in his chair and asks, “Please explain.”

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“As the department overseeing the church’s seals, the only thing you should do is pay the baron for his artwork. Conversely, you should refrain from doing anything beyond that,” I begin with my conclusion.

“What else should we do?”

“Nothing more,” I say.

Deacon Michelino furrows his brow, pondering my words. He seems to struggle to grasp the reasoning behind my conclusion, but eventually sighs and gestures for me to continue.

“Please elaborate.”

I nod and explain further.

“This technique of copperplate engraving has enormous potential. Despite its current flaws, one only needs to look at the printed image to see its promise. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Deacon Michelino?”

Deacon Michelino nods slowly.

“The church should position itself as a supporter and sponsor of this artwork. By doing so, we can praise the Baron as an artist, establish a fee for each copy of the painting, and pay that fee to the Baron. To facilitate this, we could leverage the authority of the church’s seal department.”

“And why would we do that?” Deacon Michelino asks, his tone cautious.

This is the crux of the discussion, and I pause briefly to ensure my explanation is clear.

“There are two key advantages,” I begin. “First, if the paintings gain social recognition and become profitable, workshops and up-and-coming artists will be motivated to master this technique. This will foster competition, train more artists, and elevate their craftsmanship. Second, by acting as the rights holder for these artworks under the church’s backing, the seal department will secure a new source of revenue, similar to its role in managing the church’s seals. In other words, it creates a new vested interest for the department. Wouldn’t that be far more beneficial than simply restricting the technology?”

I finish and look at Deacon Michelino, who has closed his eyes, deep in thought.

He licks his upper lip, which has dried with tension, betraying his awareness of the gravity of the decision.

This is a pivotal moment—a crossroads where the concept of copyright could be established in this world.