ALL NOVEL Chapter 9
A mysterious playwright in disguise, Phantom, has penned his new work, Julius Caesar.
Just like Admiral Lee, this play has had a profound impact on the Holy Empire.
If Admiral Lee resulted in a reformation of the Empire’s army, then Julius Caesar brought about a reformation of the Empire’s politics.
After the premiere, the Empire’s politicians began to always chant this one phrase before making decisions.
“What would Caesar do?”
The remarkable politician Caesar, who never concealed his ambitions yet always strived to align ambition with the public good.
Influenced by his actions, Empire politicians began to follow in Caesar’s footsteps one by one.
Prominent politicians started to seriously discuss the welfare of the Empire’s citizens.
After all, the hero Caesar would have done just that.
The Imperial Council began to pay a little attention to improving the treatment of the military, which they had previously ignored.
Because the hero Caesar would have done just that.
Dukes and counts started to treat their subordinates more generously and compassionately.
Because the hero Caesar would have done just that.
Politics like Caesar, judgment like Caesar, action like Caesar.
Now, Julius Caesar was no longer just a character in a play.
He had become the moral compass for all the privileged, a milestone pointing the right direction.
…However, not everyone viewed Caesar’s popularity favorably.
“Your Majesty, capture playwright Phantom and interrogate him!”
“He must have written the script with insidious intentions! Just look at the plot, isn’t it obvious?”
Some courtiers expressed discomfort with the developments in the play.
After all, it’s true that the protagonist overthrew the regime in a coup and became supreme.
Of course, Phantom was concerned about this and took appropriate measures.
He deliberately shifted all the vices in the story onto the Roman Republic.
Emphasizing republicanism instead of a coup, portraying a great dictator overthrowing a vulgar Senate and establishing a monarchy.
However, even this was a disturbing depiction for the politically sensitive courtiers.
“Your Majesty. Who can guarantee that another Caesar won’t emerge after seeing this play?”
“Prohibit Julius Caesar! It’s a dangerous play that instills the dirty desires of a coup in people’s hearts!”
“That’s right! We must halt the performance immediately and arrest the treasonous Phantom!”
In fact, if this had happened a few weeks ago, such counsel would have worked.
The previous Emperor was a paranoid figure who even irrationally hated loyal Duke Wentford.
However, the Emperor after experiencing Admiral Lee and Julius Caesar was a completely different person.
No, what truly irked him was not the depiction of a coup in the play.
“The Founder of the Empire also overthrew the corrupt Republic with legitimate grounds and initiated the era of the Empire.”
A massive throne made of sparkling gold and black jewels.
The Emperor Heinrich, sitting there and looking down at the courtiers, frowned.
“Are you trying to say that the actions of the founder emperor were wrong? That toppling the Republic was an act of treachery? Just a filthy conspiracy and coup?”
“Uh, that…”
“N-No! How could we say such a thing…!”
The reason Phantom chose Caesar as the protagonist of his new work lay here as well.
The Holy Empire ruled by Emperor Heinrich.
Once upon a time, it was a republic too.
Then the founder of the imperial family seized power through a coup and ushered in the era of the Empire.
Thus, to the Emperor, Julius Caesar did not seem like a piece inciting rebellion.
Rather, it felt like a glorifying play indirectly lifting the founder emperor’s status.
“…Well, even so.”
With a slight nod, Emperor Heinrich spoke.
“I can’t entirely dismiss your counsel and ignore such risks. It is indeed true that depictions related to regime overthrow are explicitly included.”
“Y-Yes! That’s exactly our concern…”
“Then.”
Cutting off the excuses of the officials, the Emperor stood up from his throne.
He imitated the gestures of the dictator from Julius Caesar and declared with explosive impact.
“From today onwards, I shall simply become Caesar myself; there would be no problem at all if I am regarded as the true hero no one can rival.”
…
“What?”
“Are your ears blocked? His Majesty is going to hold a new coronation! In the attire of Emperor Octavianus that appeared at the end of the performance!”
“Uh, uh…”
“Moreover, from now on, the word ‘Caesar’ will be used as a synonym for ‘Emperor’? At this rate, will we start calling His Majesty Caesar rather than Emperor?”
The shocking news was relayed hilariously by Maurice.
He grasped my shoulders tightly and chuckled.
“This crazy playwright bastard! He made the Academy students cry as Admiral Lee, and now he’s flipping royal ceremonies upside down as Julius Caesar! Just how far can your potential reach?”
“…”
“By the way, I hear the royal family is going to seek you out soon? Since you’re using your creative work directly, they might give you a title? At this rate, you might even get invited to royal banquets!”
No, that.
Titles and banquet invitations, honestly, I don’t need those cumbersome things.
“I’ll consider the copyright money as a hefty sponsorship, so please don’t look for me.”
Even if the play was entertaining.
To hold a new coronation while adorned in the attire of the Roman Emperor? With a laurel crown on my head and a purple toga around my body?
And what? Now ‘Caesar’ means emperor?
I was left utterly speechless by the level of immersion in this other world.
Of course, in reality, emperors are called Caesar too.
Germany has Kaiser, Poland has Cezar, Russia has Tsar; all have their roots in Caesar.
But that’s a story from the world I originally lived in.
To think that a single play could cause a similar situation here as well.
“Well, doesn’t that just show how sensationally popular it is? Far more than during Admiral Lee’s time.”
Maurice said, chuckling slyly as he patted my shoulder.
“It’s so bad that these days, among academy students, the worst curse word is Brutus, you know? Being treated as a traitor who stabbed Caesar is more insulting than saying anything about their parents.”
“Hah.”
In the original world, Brutus was synonymous with betrayal, alongside Judas Iscariot.
Yet, because of the play I wrote, Caesar became a symbol of the emperor, and Brutus the symbol of betrayal, granting them an immortal life. How ridiculous.
“Oh, right. Here, take this.”
Then, Maurice suddenly remembered something and put his hand in his pocket.
“What is it? A letter?”
“It’s a letter delivered from the Killgrewber Theater Company. It seems to be a fan letter addressed to you?”
Only Maurice knew the true identity of playwright Phantom.
So now, he was also acting as a sort of assistant for me.
Receiving letters that come to Phantom in a way that wouldn’t expose him was part of his duties.
Being a nephew of the Marquis, he also had quite a few secret routes to avoid revealing identities.
It must be a bothersome task, but instead of disliking it, Maurice seemed excited to play the role of my assistant.
“Helping the genius playwright focus solely on writing is thrilling and delightful, I suppose?”
It felt akin to Engels assisting Marx in a roundabout way.
His intellect, cool demeanor, and generous personality did resemble the historic Engels.
“But who sent this fan letter to have such nice stationery? It smells warm from the surface.”
Not just the fragrance, but the material was soft and fluffy — real exquisite paper.
Whoever sent it was clearly not from an ordinary family.
At the very least, it was from a noble family, perhaps even a duke’s family.
“I don’t know. I read it for verification, but the sender wasn’t written anywhere.”
“Really? Wait…not just missing the name, but it claims to be anonymous.”
Written in a pretty handwriting from top to bottom.
Despite the much-back-and-forth, this fan, just like me, wanted only one thing.
“Just cut to the chase, and deliver a happy ending from now on?”
They felt uncomfortable with both works ending with the protagonist’s demise.
Their younger brother was also a fervent fan who was heartbroken seeing Caesar’s death.
My response to that was just one.
“Just toss it in the drawer.”
“So? Will you tell them you’ll write the next work with a happy ending?”
“No. It’s best to ignore it if I don’t want to get hurt later.”
I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t write a happy ending.
I was just getting tired of stories that were so rigid.
“But if this letter ends up pushing me towards a happy ending, then that can’t happen.”
Just like that, the reality of today’s writers isn’t to shout, “Advice!”.
The risk of being coerced could arise, and even if that didn’t happen, once I began bending to one fan’s request, it could snowball into a never-ending cycle.
If everyone and anyone were to come barging in, demanding their opinions be reflected, I’d be in deep trouble with the aftermath.
How would I justify it if I accommodate one person’s opinion but refuse another’s?
Furthermore, I’m someone who doesn’t disclose my identity even when a member of a duke’s family comes to meet me.
I had thoroughly agreed with the Killgrewber Theater Company about keeping our identities secret.
So, regardless of who wrote this, I had absolutely no interest.
Unless, by some chance, it was a letter sent by the royal family, of course.
Otherwise, it would just be the zeal of some random fan.
…
“Huh, really? So nothing even in response?”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
As the guard bowed his head, the woman lounging on the sofa in the lavish chamber let out a tiny fart and propped her chin elegantly.
Yet, although she thought there would at least be a response.
To dismiss her like this was quite unexpected.
Of course, there was no expectation of her authority since it was sent as an anonymous fan letter.
Still, for someone who had lived a lifetime not being rejected, undermining expectations made her feel quite strange.
“Your Highness, if you desire, I will get to the bottom of the playwright’s identity by any means necessary. If we interrogate the members of the Killgrewber Theater Company using the Imperial Guards…”
“Enough. We must not burden a talent responsible for a century-long legacy of the Empire’s literature. If he wishes to keep his identity private, we will respect that decision constantly.”
Swish. Sipping the fragrant Ceylon tea, a soft remark came forth.
Staring at the roaring fireplace, the woman smiled.
“How interesting, playwright Phantom.”
The more this went on, the more she wanted to meet him in real life, huh?
Half curiosity, half a slight thrill of emotions.
The name of the woman murmuring like this was Diana von Clausewitz.
The eldest daughter of Emperor Heinrich von Clausewitz, who would someday properly inherit the throne.
“So I will interpret it as stopping any attempts to deduce the playwright’s identity. I shall cease interest in Phantom’s identity…”
“When did I say anything of the sort? I stated that I have no intention of publicly disclosing his identity.”
“Pardon?”
Swish. The princess took another sip of the Ceylon tea.
A sardonic smile spread across her plump lips.
“But it’s fine if I deduce it myself and keep it to myself, right? And if I find it out myself, then it’s of my own freedom to tease him a little afterward.”
“Um, Your Highness? Are you upset due to the absence of the response…?”
“Silence.”
“Y-Yes.”
With a mischievous smile, the princess sealed her aide’s lips.
The highest-ranking woman in the Empire, Diana von Clausewitz.
She was surprisingly more mischievous than she appeared.
…And at the same time, somewhat petty.