Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: The Saintess's Curiosity
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"Hmm."
"Is something the matter, Your Holiness the Saintess?"
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
The inn in the capital, where she was staying temporarily for play production.
Sitting before the roaring fireplace to ward off the night's chill, Beatrice deftly brushed off her escort Holy Knight's concern.
"......Phantom."
At the same time, she quietly recalled the masked man she had encountered not long ago.
The non-monetary reward he had promised to provide if the script proved successful.
She had vaguely glossed over it with her attitude at the time, but in truth, she already had a specific option in mind.
It was to have her priests crack down on the production and distribution of knockoff works.
She had obtained prior information that the Gelorusina Theater Troupe was suffering headaches due to imitations of Chaplin Comedies.
She had no doubt this would be an excellent reward for Phantom.
A nation's civil laws merely prevented thieves from stealing.
But a religion's eternal laws guided people to point fingers at thieves and condemn theft itself.
"......"
However, that wasn't the only thought lingering in Beatrice's mind right now.
In fact, from their very first meeting, she had felt a strange curiosity and interest toward Phantom.
How could a soul emit such a color?
Beatrice, the Saintess who had lost her sight in childhood and could see nothing.
In its place, her eyes could pierce through things others couldn't perceive.
For instance, the unique colors in which each person's soul burned brightly.
Yet Phantom's soul didn't seem quite natural in its hue, did it?
Not that it was as murky in brightness as the soul of some wicked person, of course.
Nor was it some bizarre color she'd never seen before in her life.
It was simply inducing an optical illusion, as if two different colors were mixing in real time.
Beatrice, the Saintess who had interacted with countless people and gained insight into diverse personalities.
Even she was encountering this bizarre and suspicious form of soul for the first time in her life.
"Phantom, Phantom, Phantom."
Chewing over the playwright's name repeatedly, Beatrice fell deep into thought.
Just what is your true identity?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "S-Sorry about the other day, Phantom."
"Hmph."
"No matter how famous you are, I'm just an entertainer, aren't I? The other party was the Saintess herself, come down from the Papal Court. I had no choice in the matter. I really am sorry. If you want, I can even kneel..."
"Sigh. Fine, I get it. I'll forgive you, so just take this."
"Oh! You're letting it slide? Thanks!"
Renua, who had revealed my location to Saintess Beatrice last time.
After giving him a stern talking-to about that, I handed over what I had brought.
"Oh ho, so this time you've gone all out with a religious play?"
Renua swiftly flipped through the script pages as he asked.
After finishing it, he stuck out his thumb and declared confidently.
"If it's something like this, it's right up Killigrew Theater Company's alley—our specialty of specialties! Before the great master Phantom appeared, religious plays were our signature!"
"That's a relief. But you do realize you'll have to go all the way to the northern front for the performance, right?"
I emphasized the point as I took back the script for my newest work, Exodus, which I had completed as quickly as possible.
The troupe's trip now was a kind of morale-boosting performance.
The conservative Saintess would provide ample funding, but there would be no ticket sales or other revenue streams beyond that.
As a mid-career actor responsible for the troupe, I worried it might bother him.
"Haha, do you take me for a fool? Don't worry about it, Phantom."
Fortunately, Renua's reaction was mostly positive.
As he looked around his beloved stage set, he spoke in a cheerful voice.
"It's a performance for the Holy Knights safeguarding the faithful. We can't quibble over petty profits. Besides, we can always perform it again with the same script once we're back. We can sell tickets to the general audience then, no problem."
Oh ho. This uncle was the proud owner of an upright yet pragmatic worldview.
Was it because in my past life I'd often seen people mocking and exploiting the soldiers who defended the nation from behind?
His attitude of being okay with a bit of loss for the sake of the Holy Knights touched me deeply.
And yet, he had already calculated a rational way to make up for it.
'This guy's not just some amateur theater manager.'
As I inwardly admired him, Renua glanced at the script he'd returned and asked.
"The choir has a bigger role than I expected. That means we'll need to compose melodies fitting the lyrics—have you thought about that? You're a playwright, not a composer."
"Don't worry. I've got the basic framework laid out, so you can coordinate with the church choir to refine it."
The choir handling the chorus parts, along with all the props and stage setups needed for the performance, would be provided by the church.
All the Killigrew Theater Company and I had to do was rehearse and show up.
That meant the Saintess was dead serious, so we had to give it our all in return.
'That's why I blended styles from the original Old Testament text and two masterpieces.'
The protagonist of Exodus—or the Exodus—is undoubtedly Moses.
The prophet symbolizing the Old Testament, still revered as a national hero in Israel to this day.
I had been deeply impressed by Moses through two films that covered the Exodus.
The Ten Commandments, starring Charlton Heston and hailed as a timeless masterpiece transcending eras.
And DreamWorks' animated musical The Prince of Egypt, starring Val Kilmer.
If I were to write a biography of Moses, there was no way I could surpass those two works, right?
'The Ten Commandments is genuinely my all-time favorite.'
The Ten Commandments was a blockbuster that recreated ancient Egyptian civilization on an unprecedented scale for its time.
It majestically depicted the hero 'Moses,' endowed with outstanding leadership and charisma, saving Yahweh's chosen people.
In fact, The Ten Commandments was an epic nearly four hours long by runtime alone.
Yet it was a masterpiece with such meticulous and refined plotting that there wasn't a single dull moment.
'In contrast, The Prince of Egypt approached the Exodus from a more humanistic perspective.'
Unlike the near-perfect heroic Moses in The Ten Commandments, it focused on portraying a frail yet courageous human Moses.
On top of that, eye-captivating animation, awe-inspiring religious staging.
And topping it off, high-quality music that delivered literal eargasms.
For any fan of animated films, it was the ultimate gift set of masterpieces among masterpieces.
And I had drawn the overall visuals and characters from The Ten Commandments, and the musical elements from The Prince of Egypt, to craft the script.
The depictions and emotional arcs from The Ten Commandments would be easier for medieval Holy Knights to immerse in.
While the staging and music from The Prince of Egypt would suit repurposing for a morale-boosting show.
"Ah, and one more thing I'm curious about."
Flip!
Renua flipped back to the first page of the script as he spoke.
"The setting is Egypt, right? But Egypt appeared in the Julius Caesar performance too, didn't it? You know, where Queen Cleopatra is Caesar's lover."
"Ah."
"Is Exodus set in the same era as Julius Caesar? If so, maybe we could cameo some characters from the previous..."
"No, nothing like that."
I'd figured he'd wonder about it, but when it came time to explain, words failed me.
Convincing him by referencing history from my original world was obviously impossible.
And brushing it off as coincidence when the costumes were identical would just make him scoff and call it ridiculous.
In the end, I went with a very straightforward excuse.
"It's just set recycling."
"Set recycling?"
"Creating new countries and costumes from scratch takes time and money, right? So we're just reusing the existing Egypt set—it's got the strongest exotic feel."
"Hmm, is that so? Kind of a letdown. I got a little excited thinking it was the same setting."
"Hahaha......"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A short while later, after the playwright Phantom and the Killigrew Theater Company members headed to the northern front via teleportation magic circle.
"Balthazar Arture! Balthazar Arture? Is student Balthazar absent?"
In the academy classroom, the professor called roll, searching for a student who hadn't shown his face.
The class in question was Sacred Empire Political History, taught by humanities professor Prunel Rabije.
Notorious among students for being dull, rigid, and strictly attendance-checked.
Yet it was a required course that had to be taken for graduation, so they gritted their teeth and enrolled anyway.
For even the famously strict Prunel Rabije to skip class.
Tsking his tongue, Professor Prunel raised the attendance ledger.
"Tch, these days' young students... Not content with just playing around every day, now this Phantom or whatever has them skipping class to watch plays. Back in my day, just letting me into the lecture hall was..."
Grumbling his displeasure in classic old-timer fashion with 'back in my day' logic.
As he was about to slash a heavy grade penalty next to second-year Balthazar Arture's name for unexcused absence.
"Um, Professor?"
Someone raised a hand politely with an awkward smile.
The model student who diligently attended even the notoriously boring political history class.
Even the irascible Prunel made a rare exception to favor student Morris.
"What is it, Laval? I already called Morris Laval's name."
"Ah, no, that's not it. Actually..."
Scratch scratch. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Morris cautiously explained the situation.
"Well, Balthazar isn't feeling well today. He's been lying in the dorm all day. He asked me to apologize for not notifying you in advance about his health issue."
"Hmm, is that so?"
If another student had made such an excuse, Prunel wouldn't have given it the time of day.
He'd have demanded proof of illness or even a doctor's note.
But sometimes, the speaker's identity profoundly influences the listener's mindset.
"Understood. I'll mark it as sick leave, then."
Pausing his red pen over Balthazar's name, Professor Prunel nodded.
Looking at Morris with pleased eyes, he said.
"Relay today's lecture content and announcements to Arture on my behalf. We can't let Arture fall behind."
"Got it. Thank you, Professor."
Bowing politely in thanks, Morris subtly sighed in relief.
Exploiting his painstakingly built model student image to lie.
It pricked at his conscience painfully, but it was a lie well worth it.
Thanks to it, the great master 'Phantom's' grades were safe.
'Leave the trivial stuff to me and focus on your work, Balthazar. Keep churning out those masterpieces.'
Scribble scribble. He muttered as he took even more diligent notes, to share with his busy friend up north.
Followed by a grin brimming with anticipation.
'That way, your big bro here can enjoy your plays to the fullest, right?'
Even mountain beasts repay kindness received.
So he'd nag his friend mercilessly to repay the favor upon return.
By becoming a human scenario factory pumping out one script a day, no less.