Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Finding Vercingetorix
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"Oh ho. Julius Caesar, eh? Is this the title of your next work?"
"That's right, Mr. Renua."
"Quite a unique name. So the protagonist is some ancient historical figure?"
"More or less."
From a medieval perspective, Rome was truly from time immemorial.
And Caesar, who laid the foundations of the Roman Empire, was even more ancient.
Fortunately, this world also had legends of an ancient civilization that had flourished just like Rome.
Thanks to that, Renua could understand the world of the Julius Caesar script without much trouble.
"Oh ho, hmm! Oh! This part is the best! No, scratch that! This part is brilliant! No, no, cancel that! Every scene that comes up is a masterpiece!"
Renua quickly devoured the script, drumming solo as he went.
He'd be playing the lead role of Caesar this time too, so his excitement was only natural.
"...My God, Phantom! This one's on par with Admiral Li—a grand epic!"
Thud! Renua closed the finished script and spoke.
He stroked his bearded chin and added in a solemn voice.
"No, in some ways, it surpasses Admiral Li as a masterpiece! The protagonist Caesar's growth, exploits, crises, triumphs, and fateful downfall—all these elements blend into a perfect story! It's like everything connects seamlessly through the tragic death of the hero, without a single loose end?"
It was understandable why he'd feel that way.
After realizing this world's audiences had a surprising tolerance for sad endings, I'd deliberately crafted it as a classic tragedy.
Tragedy was a genre with deep roots, often said to share origins with art itself.
The golden age of ancient Greek culture was marked by tragic plays about mythic heroes.
Athens' great philosopher Aristotle summed it up in his Poetics:
A poetic form where one meets ruin and misfortune due to fate beyond human control, or through struggle with others or oneself.
In that sense, few figures suited the tragic genre better than Julius Caesar.
Even the giant of English literature, Shakespeare, had drawn inspiration from him for the tragedy Julius Caesar.
"Thank you for the praise. Then let's get right to preparations for the staging. His Majesty the Emperor himself will be watching, so we need everything perfect."
Theater was, after all, a comprehensive art.
Beyond script and acting, direction, costumes, props, makeup—all demanded meticulous care to complete a single work.
Moreover, Julius Caesar was set in Rome, the cradle of European civilization.
To do it justice meant preparing everything from everyday togas and tunics to legionaries' lorica armor.
'It'll cost a pretty penny, but with the imperial sponsorship, we should be fine.'
The sponsorship wasn't pocket money—it was seed capital for producing superior works.
And with an outrageous amount granted, prepping one play wouldn't strain things.
We'd just signed an exclusive contract with the Killigrew Theater Company and were deep in designing patterns for the capital's high-end costume shop.
"Hmm, everything else is fine, but right here."
Renua flipped to a page from the mid-act and asked in a displeased tone.
"About the characters in this part you called the 'Gallic Wars'... Do we really have to cast orcs for this villain 'Vercingetorix' and his minions?"
"Yes. If nothing else, please stick exactly to my vision on that."
One of the most crucial elements in staging a play was realism.
The stage world's reality had to evoke the real world for the audience to immerse fully.
In a world where elves, dwarves, and dragons existed, the presence of unfamiliar races would play a crucial role in reinforcing that sense of realism.
And in this world, the ones matching the Gallic Celts one-to-one were none other than the orcs.
The very race of savage warriors Romans both despised and feared.
Considering realism, no one fit the villains of the Gallic campaigns better than orcs.
Of course, Renua still didn't look convinced.
"But His Majesty the Emperor is coming to watch in person! Having lowly, brutish orcs perform? They're far better suited to dockside labor or private arenas... Why drag barbarians onto the stage...?"
"Trust me. Casting orcs as Vercingetorix and the Gallic extras will be the best choice."
"Ugh, um... Alright. I'll trust your aesthetic sense. You pulled off Admiral Li's success single-handedly, after all."
"Thank you."
Orcs typically lived in small tribal units beyond civilization's borders.
But plenty stayed in the capital to earn money or gain imperial citizenship.
So I planned to select the perfect orc for Vercingetorix through a proper audition.
'A strong villain makes the hero shine brighter.'
If the antagonist was lackluster, the protagonist suffering at their hands would seem lackluster too.
Vercingetorix was the once-in-a-generation hero who nearly halted Caesar's Gallic conquest.
For the story's sake, I couldn't hand the role to some run-of-the-mill orc.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A short while later, on the Killigrew Theater Company's private stage.
"Next!"
"Uh, g-Gallic brothers! For freedom, join me..."
"Good work. Next!"
"I-I surrender! Spare my brothers' lives? Please?"
"Next!"
Auditions were underway for orc laborers scouted from nearby docks with city hall's cooperation.
For the great playwright Phantom, patronized by the imperial family.
To cast the actor for Vercingetorix in his next work.
To deliver a flawless masterpiece that would satisfy the Emperor's kin.
And overseeing the auditions were the troupe's manager, Renua, and me, the playwright.
About an hour and change in.
"Phantom. You really going to keep this up? There were some decent enough ones—pick one at random, or switch to human actors even now..."
Growing bored, Renua asked in a listless tone.
His face still said he couldn't grasp why we were bothering with orcs.
His frustration was understandable enough.
Most orcs in the imperial capital were manual laborers drawn to civilization for coin.
Like the sweaty day workers you'd spot at Korean construction sites.
Expecting artistic talent from them made Renua view the auditions as a waste of time.
But I stood firm.
"No. For my vision, an orc actor must take this role."
With the imperial family attending formally, I had to pour in my all.
No half-measures on even a single detail.
To capture the raw grit of the Gallic Wars fully, I needed a race as feral and macho as orcs.
Besides, Vercingetorix was the main villain in the pivotal Gallic Wars arc.
He needed charisma and presence to captivate audiences, even if not academy-level acting.
'Even among laborers, there has to be at least one standout.'
To get satisfying results, street casting was par for the course, right?
Next, next.
We pressed on sequentially.
"Hm?"
Thud, thud. A hulking young orc strode in with confident steps.
His intense gaze boded something special as he looked down at us, snorting sharply.
"Uh, contestant number 28. Bokio, correct?"
"Yes. I've been called up to assist the Killigrew Theater Company's production."
His polite, smooth speech clashed with his burly build.
I lost my words momentarily at his massively broad shoulders and rock-solid musculature.
His tall stature and imposing frame stood out even among orcs, but what truly drew the eye was his appearance.
Unlike average orcs, he was strikingly handsome.
If I had to describe it, a manly heartthrob blending fierce wildness and bold charisma?
He hadn't even auditioned, but his looks alone earned at least 50 points.
"Good. Let's cut to the chase and start the audition."
No matter the looks, what mattered on stage was convincing performance.
I gave directions, eager to see how he'd embody the role.
"Read the scene where Vercingetorix rallies his kin. Just before Caesar's invasion, as they gather at the altar to steel their resolve."
"Understood."
Ahem. Bokio cleared his throat lightly at my words, preparing.
After a steadying breath, he glared fiercely, diving into character.
"My Gallic brothers! Let us fight against the invader, Caesar!"
...Gasp.
His thunderous roar echoed like lightning.
I held my breath, eyes widening.
The orc's thick, resonant voice and innate magnetism were superb, untrained yet natural.
"Rome may take our lives, but never our freedom!"
Fist raised as scripted, he bellowed.
"We will fight the invaders as free men and die as free men! Rise, my precious brothers! Caesar will regret ever setting foot in Gaul—!!"
His spirited shout rang through the entire theater.
As it faded, only our faint breaths remained.
"...What do you think, Mr. Renua?"
The veteran actor Renua blinked speechless.
I glanced at him, swallowing dryly before asking.
"My God."
Renua exhaled deeply, letting out a raw exclamation.
He turned to me with a delighted smile.
"I think we've just found the Vercingetorix we both agree on, Phantom."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Come on, everyone, line up! The play starts soon!"
"The talk of the town, from the writer of Admiral Li! Phantom makes a splendid return with Julius Caesar!"
"His Majesty the Emperor will attend! Her Highness the Princess and His Highness the Prince as well!"
The fateful day the curtain rose on Julius Caesar.
The Killigrew Theater entrance swarmed with crowds.
From high-class ticket holders to street gawkers eager just to glimpse the imperial procession.
Innumerable citizens gathered regardless of station, turning the entrance into a brutal every-man-for-himself melee.
"H-Hey, no pushing! It's not like plays are once-in-a-lifetime!"
"A play His Majesty attends in person! Gotta snag a prime seat to make my mark!"
"Lord Cherny! Please, mind your dignity! A noble cutting in line? Aren't you ashamed?"
"Pah, shut it! As if I didn't know you snuck that ticket from a scalper? Knew it since you whined about missing Admiral Li!"
The babel from the jostling throng.
An immense scale hinting at the capital's fervor for Julius Caesar.
And today, the Killigrew Theater's premiere of Julius Caesar.
I lingered at the entrance in my uniform.
"Balthazar! Over here, here!"
"Senior Wenford!"
A red-haired woman waved cheerfully from across the way.
I smiled and approached with measured steps.
She wore a flowing outing dress, pristine white gloves, and a necklace—a beauty refined.
Rosalyn Wenford, elevated to duke's daughter thanks to her father Lord Wenford's meteoric rise.