Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: The Saintess's Commission
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People sometimes encounter eerily similar moments in life.
Ones where you can't tell if your luck is insanely good or insanely bad.
Moments where one unbelievable coincidence piles upon another.
That was exactly the situation I was in right now.
"Sorry for barging in so rudely. We didn't have much choice given the circumstances."
"I-it's fine."
"The person we're after is Phantom, who won't even meet the princess on her terms, so we had to bend the rules a bit. I hope you can understand?"
...No, if the princess popped out and said to come, I'd be there in a flash.
That might fly with some random noble,
but against imperial family? Royalty, no less—the crown princess? What kind of guts does it take?
Just how arrogant and rude is this Phantom guy rumored to be?
Refusing even the princess's orders, forcing them to resort to tricks...
"Hehe, staring so openly makes me shy. I'm quite bashful, you know."
"S-sorry!"
"No need to apologize."
Saintess Beatrice stirred a generous heap of sugar into her steaming cup of cocoa.
She and I sat side by side at the table, just the two of us.
The divine genius who shook the empire with every new work.
She'd come saying she had a secret matter to discuss only with that Phantom.
Thanks to that, Isabella had stepped out for a bit, and even the Holy Knights on guard duty had vacated the room.
Now I had to have a private audience with the saintess, who sat with her eyes closed and a serene smile.
'Sigh, that Renua guy...'
When I asked for the full story, she said they'd first stormed the Killigrew Theater Company to track me down.
Killigrew and Gelorusina.
To make contact with the mysterious Phantom, who only met with those two troupes.
It wasn't some fan throwing a tantrum; it involved Papal Court business, so Renua had no choice.
On the condition that they wouldn't demand Phantom's personal details, he'd tipped them off that I was currently visiting the Gelorusina Theater Troupe.
Leaking info was a bit annoying, but what actor could stand up to a saintess? I'd let it slide.
"But how did you know I was looking at you, Saintess? From what I've heard, you're... um..."
"Blind? Can't see a thing in front of you?"
Ugh.
I'd asked with that intent, but hearing it pointed out so directly pricked my conscience.
Few things are as rude as prying into a disability with the disabled person right there.
"It's fine. Everyone's curious."
She waved it off kindly, as if I needn't worry, and smoothed a stray lock of silver hair with a bright smile.
"Lose one light, and another dawn breaks through. I may not see the world like others, but these eyes let me behold the soul's currents."
"The soul's currents?"
"Hmm, too grand? Think of it as flows of energy. Like hazy smoke gathering into human shapes."
With that, she lifted her tightly shut eyelids.
Revealing cloudy gray pupils, sightless from lost vision.
"A person's movements are the flow of their energy. Even twitching a single muscle gathers qi at one point. I simply observe where the qi pools in the body. That's the part they're using right now."
...What is this, a wuxia novel's blind master? Seeing with inner eyes, not physical ones?
I'd seen the trope of heightened other senses compensating for lost sight, but meeting someone like that in person felt fresh.
Still, her unique ability wasn't the point right now.
What mattered was why she'd sought out the playwright Phantom of all people.
Sensing that, she set down her cocoa cup with a slurp and spoke up.
"Straight to the point: Write a script for the church, Phantom."
"Pardon?"
A play script? For the church, out of nowhere?
"Th-that's... a rather odd request. If it's for a holiday performance, couldn't you just use your priests? There are plenty of established works already."
This was a medieval world where religion and faith formed a core pillar of life.
Churches staging plays during Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving—it was routine.
To maintain the community through scripture's doctrines and moral lessons,
delivered to the masses in an easy, engaging way via theatrical shells.
Before my debut as Phantom, I'd seen those religious plays ad nauseam.
But the saintess just shook her head firmly.
"Not a script for ordinary folk. We have plenty of those. I want one for the Holy Knights on the battlefield."
"A play for Holy Knights?"
"You've heard the latest from the northern front, right? Tales of valor from those waging holy war against the demons there."
Of course.
Rosalyn sunbae's father had been embedded there until recently,
and my orthodox martial house, the Arture family, was paying close attention too.
'Something about holding back the demon legions' advance?'
The demons' and undead's lair at the northern sea's edge.
A vital stronghold holding off their periodic invasions.
The problem? No matter how many you kill, their numbers never dwindle.
"War grinds down the body and soul. Even Holy Knights armed with fervent faith are no exception."
The saintess spoke in a calm, subdued voice.
"Year after year, the bloody battles with demons show no end. It's sapping the knights' resolve. Endless fighting, countless comrades lost, and the Celestial Lord just watches on."
The legions' numbers unchanged for unknown reasons,
their base unreachable thanks to the northern tundra's harshness.
Even a holy war—perfect conditions to wear down the troops' spirits.
"For one devoted to the faith, losing belief is as good as losing life. What the Holy Knights need now is a way to replenish their fading faith."
From behind closed lids, she sent a gaze more earnest and resolute than any sighted person's, concluding her words.
"I want you to provide that, Phantom. With your greatest strength—moving people's hearts."
"You're too kind. You trust my talents that much for such a grave matter?"
Probing gently, she regained her warm smile with a soft chuckle.
She ticked off her fingers from index to middle, replying.
"Admiral Li bolstered imperial soldiers' courage, Julius Caesar upended politicians' values, and the Chaplin Comedies breathed new life into weary commoners. Who else could it be? Even a child could tell, Phantom."
"..."
Honestly, if I were Ha Eun-seong from my past life, I'd have balked at such a request.
Never had faith in life, no loyalty to propagandize for any religion.
But here, faith was real, not fake.
God existed without doubt, priests worked genuine miracles with divine power.
Hell, wasn't the saintess herself—called by holy summons—right in front of me?
In this world, Holy Knights chose frontline service to protect humanity.
Helping them stay unbroken and fulfill their duty? Hard to refuse.
"Of course, not for free. The reward will be generous."
Reading my silence as inner conflict, she led with payment talk.
She grinned mischievously, chattering on in a cheeky tone.
"Acting and writing are honest labor for daily bread. Can't demand it for nothing when I'm imposing. And the pay comes from my personal coffers, not the Papal Court—no need to feel burdened."
"Hm, more flexible thinker than I expected."
"Well, I grew up poor in a rundown orphanage. I know how vile it is to exploit others with talk of duty. Folks like that? Burn 'em at the stake, and the Celestial Lord would absolve it."
"Ahaha..."
"Oh, and one more thing."
She perked up her index finger playfully, adding,
"If the result satisfies, I can offer non-monetary rewards too. Anything within a saintess's power."
"Hm, anything at all?"
"Oh? No asking for a date. I'm a sworn servant of the faith, after all."
...Duh? Who'd dare hit on a saintess? Not like I have three spare lives.
The princess Diana von Klauzewitz at the fan meet was the same.
Even knowing highborn jokes are jokes, they chill you to the bone.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ After the saintess left with her Holy Knights.
"A religious play... to boost the Holy Knights' morale..."
Back in my dorm, I paced before my desk, fountain pen in hand.
Pondering which great figure would best fulfill the quest.
'First thing that came to mind was Jesus's Passion play...'
Passion play: Dramatizing Christ's persecution in full.
Suffering under Pontius Pilate, death, and holy resurrection—the core themes.
With deep religious weight matching the Messiah's crucifixion, Catholics even made it tradition for Lent.
But I shot it down faster than light.
Jesus might be the one true God's son back home, but here? Obscure nobody.
Piling messiah traits on him would get zero traction.
'Lucky if they don't call it blasphemy and curse me out.'
Scrap the Jesus lead idea entirely.
I mulled other forms: morality plays, liturgical dramas, Adam plays, miracle plays.
The Bible's a treasure trove of stories, sure.
But nothing clicked right.
Wasn't the goal massively uplifting Holy Knights' spirits?
'Ordinary material won't cut it.'
Weary from endless slaughter, they don't need stale sermons.
Forcing that would backfire, breeding resentment and deeper doubt.
What they needed: fresh stimulus to reignite dead fighting spirit, solidify wavering faith.
Simply put, drugs.
Mindless "Hallelujah!" tears streaming,
making them proud to follow this faith. That kind of high.
'...But who can deliver that?'
Adam and Eve, Noah's flood, David vs. Goliath, Solomon's judgment, Virgin Mary, etc.
Every recalled episode felt 2% short on impact.
Looking outside scripture? Lacked that holy vibe to inspire faith.
"Sigh. What a headache."
No sharp ideas, so I shelved Bible thoughts.
Then, legs crossed, mind wandering elsewhere—
"...Ah!"
Suddenly, two titles flashed from my ex-movie buff brain.
One: 1956 Hollywood epic live-action blockbuster.
The other: 1998 musical animated film.
Spotlighting Old Testament mega-episodes and one standout prophet, each in unique style. Masterpieces.
Not just fun for atheists,
They had devout believers sobbing, overcome with emotion, drunk on that overwhelming high.
The animated one even got a 2017 musical theater remake—perfect.
"Yes! You're the protagonist this time!"
Decision made, I plopped into my chair.
Fountain pen flying, I muttered gleefully to myself.
'Can't make a religious play without God's miracles, right?'
And for a proper high, split the sea with one?
No relics or artifacts—just pure faith and a crude wooden staff.