I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

“Hmm.”

“What’s wrong, Saint Beatrice?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

In the capital’s lodging, where she was temporarily staying for the play’s production, Beatrice sat in front of the flickering fireplace, shaking off the night’s chill while playfully dismissing the concerns of the paladin guarding her.

“…Phantom.”

As she thought about the masked man she had contacted last time, she secretly pondered.

The non-monetary compensation she had confidently promised if the script was successful.

Though she nonchalantly brushed off the situation, she actually had a pre-planned option in mind.

That was to have the priests regulate the production and consumption of imitative works.

She had already obtained information that the Geloroushina Theater Company was struggling due to the imitation of Chaplin’s Comedy.

She firmly believed this would make for an excellent reward for Phantom.

The nation’s laws merely prevent thieves from stealing, but the eternal laws of religion encourage pointing fingers at thieves and condemning theft.

“…”

However, the thoughts lingering in Beatrice’s mind were not limited to that.

In fact, since their first meeting, she had felt a strange curiosity and interest in Phantom.

‘How can such colors emerge from a soul?’

Saint Beatrice, who lost her sight as a child and could no longer see anything, had the ability to perceive what others could not with her eyes.

For example, the unique colors of souls that burn brightly, unique to each person.

Yet, wasn’t Phantom’s soul somewhat unnatural in its coloration?

Of course, that didn’t mean it was dull like an evil person’s soul.

Nor did it imply it had an extraordinary color she had never seen before in life.

It merely caused an illusion as if two different colors were blending in real-time.

Having interacted with countless human beings and gained insight into various personalities, it was the first time in her life that Saint Beatrice encountered such a bizarre and suspicious form of a soul.

“Phantom, Phantom, Phantom.”

Repeatedly chewing on the name of the playwright, Beatrice fell deep into thought.

What on earth is your true identity?

<<<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <>>

“Uh, I’m sorry about last time, Phantom.”

“Hrumph.”

“No matter how famous you are, I’m still just a performer, right? The other party is a saint sent from the Holy See. I had no choice but to proceed. I’m really sorry. If you want, I could even kneel down…”

“Ugh. Alright, I’ll forgive you, so just accept it for now.”

“Ooh, you’re being generous? Thank you!”

Renoir, who previously revealed his position to Saint Beatrice, received a firm hint regarding this matter and handed him what he had brought.

“Oh, this time you’re serious about writing a religious play, aren’t you? From the looks of it, it seems to be an adaptation of the shepherd’s story who crossed the sea?”

Renoir asked as he quickly flipped through the script pages.

After finishing the read, he gave a thumbs-up and boasted.

“If it’s something like this, it’s our Killgrewber’s specialty! Before the great playwright Phantom’s arrival, we were a theater company known for religious plays!”

“That’s good to hear. But are you aware that we need to go to the Northern Front for the performance?”

She deliberately emphasized while receiving the quickly completed script for Exodus.

The current mission for the Killgrewber Theater Company was a kind of慰問公演 (慰問公演, meaning tribute performance).

While Saint Beatrice would generously cover the compensation, they wouldn’t be making any profit from sold tickets.

As a mid-level actor responsible for the company, she was worried if that factor would bother him.

“Haha, who do you take me for? There’s no need to worry, Phantom.”

Fortunately, Renoir’s response was mostly positive.

As he looked around the familiar stage set, he cheerfully said.

“Since it’s a performance to protect the safety of the citizens, we can’t be nitpicky about profits. Besides, once we return, we can just perform again with the same script, right? Ordinary audiences wouldn’t care about selling tickets anyway.”

Oh wow. This guy had a straightforward yet pragmatic value system.

Maybe I often saw soldiers mocked and exploited for protecting the country in my past life?

His attitude that it was okay to take a slight loss for the paladins resonated deeply.

Moreover, he even considered reasonable alternatives beforehand to make up for the losses.

‘Looks like he didn’t waste the experience of managing a theater company.’

As I was impressed internally, Renoir glanced at the script he returned and asked.

“The choir’s role seems bigger than expected. If that’s the case, we’ll need to compose melodies that fit the lyrics, have you thought about that part? You are a playwright, not a composer.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve laid out a rough framework, so we can discuss and adjust it with the church choir.”

All props and stage equipment needed for the performance, including a choir to take care of the singing part, would be provided by the church.

Once the Killgrewber Theater troupe finishes their rehearsals, they just needed to show up.

While that meant the saint was genuinely serious, this side had to commit fully.

‘To make that happen, I’ve cleverly mixed the styles of two great works from the Old Testament.’

The protagonist of Exodus, who could be called the hero of the script, was undoubtedly Moses.

As a prophet symbolizing the Old Testament, he is still revered as a national hero in Israel to this day.

I was deeply impressed by such Moses through two movies that dealt with Exodus.

The timeless masterpiece The Ten Commandments, starring Charlton Heston.

And DreamWorks’ animated musical The Prince of Egypt, starring Val Kilmer.

If I were to write a biography of Moses, no result could surpass these two works.

The Ten Commandments is genuinely the masterpiece of my life.

The Ten Commandments is a grand work that recreates ancient Egyptian civilization with an unprecedented scale for its time.

It depicts the majestic process of the hero ‘Moses’ saving Yahweh’s lambs with outstanding leadership and charisma.

In fact, The Ten Commandments is an epic that runs for almost four hours just by screening time alone.

Yet, it had a brilliantly crafted and sophisticated plot with zero dull moments.

‘On the other hand, The Prince of Egypt approached Exodus from a more humanistic perspective.’

Unlike the heroic Moses in The Ten Commandments, who was almost fully formed, it focused on the despondent yet courageous human side of Moses.

With eye-catching animation, breathtaking religious direction.

And to top it off, the high-quality music that gives a literal ear-gasm.

For animation film fans, it was nothing less than a comprehensive gift set of grand works.

And I drew from The Ten Commandments for the overall visuals and characters, while the musical elements came from The Prince of Egypt.

The descriptions and emotional arcs from The Ten Commandments would be easy for medieval paladins to immerse themselves in.

While the stylized direction and music from The Prince of Egypt would be suitable for reprocessing into tribute performances.

<<<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <>>

After a while, the members of the Killgrewber Theater, including playwright Phantom, set off to the Northern Front using a teleportation magic circle.

“Balthazar Arture! Balthazar Arture? Has Balthazar not arrived?”

In the academy’s lecture hall, the professor was calling out attendance while looking for the absent student.

The subject was Political History taught by Professor Prunel Ravie of the Holy Empire.

Renowned for being boring and stiff, with strict attendance policies, it had a notorious reputation among students.

Nonetheless, it was a compulsory subject that had to be taken for graduation, so students had no choice but to grit their teeth and enroll.

However, missing the lecture of the notoriously strict Professor Prunel?

Clicking his tongue, Professor Prunel lifted the attendance list.

“Sigh, these young students these days… not only do they play all day, but now they think they can skip class just because of some Phantom play… Back in my day, if you just let us enter the classroom…”

In typical old-school fashion, the professor expressed his displeasure, grumbling in an ‘I had it worse’ manner.

Just as he was about to check “absent” next to the name of the second-year Balthazar Arture with vigor.

“Um, Professor?”

Someone raised their hand with an awkward smile and polite demeanor.

The model student, who had a reputation for faithfully attending the supposedly boring Political History class, was no other than Maurice Lavalle.

“What’s the matter, Lavalle? I think I already called your name?”

“Ah, no, it’s not that. It’s just…”

Scratching his neck in embarrassment, Maurice cautiously began to explain.

“It’s just that, Balthazar isn’t feeling well today. He’s been lying in the dorm all day. He asked me to convey his apology for not notifying you of his health issue in advance.”

“Hmm, I see?”

Had any other student given a similar excuse, Prunel would have scoffed without a second thought.

He would have insisted on verifying if Balthazar was truly sick, even demanding a doctor’s note.

However, sometimes the identity of the speaker significantly influences the listener’s mindset.

“Very well then. I’ll mark it down as a sick leave.”

As Prunel paused from marking Balthazar’s name with a red line, he nodded.

He looked at Maurice Lavalle warmly and said, “Please relay today’s lecture content and announcements to Arture. His progress shouldn’t be delayed either.”

“Of course. Thank you, Professor.”

Bowing politely to express gratitude, Maurice Lavalle quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Using the good student image he had built up, he lied.

His conscience pricked painfully, but it was a lie worth telling.

Thanks to that, he could safely protect the grades of the great playwright ‘Phantom.’

‘Leave the trivial things to me, Balthazar. Just keep your focus on creating those great works.’

Scratch, scratch. While muttering that to share with his busy friend at the Northern Front, he took diligent notes.

Then, a smile brimming with anticipation blossomed on his face.

‘That way, this guy can fully enjoy your play, right?’

Even mountain beasts repay kindness.

So, once Balthazar returns, he would strongly encourage him to show his gratitude.

It was his aim to become a human script factory, churning out one draft a day.

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