The Viscount's Stage Play (Part 2)
“Hey, it’s true! The Viscount is actually putting on a play?”
“Aigoo… If Lord Viscount Ackman had seen this, he’d be rolling in his grave…”
“They said he came back from the dead, but his head’s gone a little wonky.”
“He kept saying the territory was finished, finished… in the end…”
“...!@$...%^@#...”
Behind the dusty old curtain, the voices of the gathered territory villagers rose in a constant, noisy buzz.
“Russell, the whole village says you’ve lost your mind.”
“Ugh… I’m going to drag all of them out myself.”
I’d put up posters all over the neighboring towns for a week, recruiting the servants and knights. The effort had paid off.
The Viscount himself is starring in a play.
A nobleman—no wandering troupe, not even a street performer. A high-ranking mage to boot, turning the whole thing into a spectacle.
The villagers were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the old warehouse, desperate to catch even a glimpse of something rare.
“Just say the word and I’ll have them all thrown out.”
“No need. These people have important roles today. We’ll keep them here.”
Today’s play was the story of our ancestors who once protected the village in the recent past.
Our goal? To drive a stake straight through Huck’s merchant’s conscience and squeeze out a flood of guilt so strong he’d never leave the village.
Everyone already knew how sentimental he was, but to actually make him cry… we needed careful preparation.
“Lucia, have you ever heard the phrase ‘tears like a river’?”
“What nonsense! Since you woke up from that coma, your weird lines have doubled.”
“Nonsense? Just watch closely. When someone starts to cry, watch what happens next. It’ll be one big, sobbing performance in no time.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“Well, when the show ends, we’ll know who was right.”
***
Crack—!
The old curtain whooshed open with a dramatic flourish, revealing the completely empty stage.
“Huh? There’s nothing here?”
In truth, we still lacked a proper stage crew and actors. Almost everything had to rely on Illusion Magic.
Alright, first thing—let’s change the background.
Streams of mana slowly began to blanket the stage.
The empty stage shimmered faintly, then transformed into a rustic little cabin with a low ceiling.
Rough mud walls, a creaky wooden door.
In one corner, a pile of firewood leaned against the wall; a small candle flickered unsteadily beside it.
And in the corner of the cabin, a hunched-over woman and a young boy huddled together.
I walked toward them slowly, arms wide, and gave them a careful hug.
Perfect timing…
A thunderous roar exploded across the stage.
“GRRAAAAAARRR!!”
Monster roars echoed from every direction.
The boy’s illusion cowered, shrinking back in terror.
“Hank, stay calm. Nothing’s going to happen.”
I lowered my voice and tried to soothe the boy’s illusion, my ordinary middle-aged face hidden behind it.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
But right after, the sound of nails scraping across wood came from outside the door.
Goblins were giggling and getting closer.
Good. Now I’ll stand up slowly…
The wife’s illusion suddenly grabbed my arm.
“Don’t go.”
Tears like chicken droppings streamed down her trembling cheeks.
And the little gasps from the audience row erupted.
“What should we do…”
“Oh my god…”
“Sit down! We can’t leave our son and wife!”
It was a little too on-the-nose and cheesy, but it seemed to land well with the first audience of this world.
“Ugh…”
Yet on Huck’s face—the main target—the usual emotional response hadn’t shown up.
Surprisingly steady?
Swish—.
The mana flickered again with a small gesture.
This time the boy’s illusion clutched my sleeve.
“Dad… Dad, hide with me…”
I glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, then spoke again.
“Dad won’t hide.”
“But…”
“Hank.”
I reached out and gently stroked the boy’s hair.
“A man has to stand firm when the time comes.”
“…”
“Don’t worry, Dad’s strong.”
“Okay…”
“Sob…”
His hands trembled, but his words were clear.
The image of a man stepping out to protect his family left the half-built theater in breathless silence.
“Hank, if Dad doesn’t come back…”
“Husband!”
“Hank, you must protect Mommy. That’s our promise, right?”
“I… I’ll protect Mommy! In return, Dad has to come back safely!”
“Of course. Dad’s invincible.”
Still clutching my arm, the wife’s illusion wept.
I slowly pulled away and walked toward the cabin door.
Creeeeak—.
The old wooden door groaned sadly.
Good. Scene change.
As the door opened, blinding light flooded the stage.
And then—blackout.
Where the cabin’s faint candle had burned, a ruined village now appeared.
Broken fences and mud-choked paths everywhere.
Twisted wooden posts and burning houses.
In the distance, sharp screams mixed with monster howls.
“H… Can we do it…”
I stared down at my shovel-wielding hands and muttered a quiet soliloquy.
The audience watched me with worried expressions.
And then—
Creeeeak—.
The door at the end of the stage opened. Brandt appeared, awkwardly gripping a rusty sword.
Among the few remaining knights in the territory, he was the most dignified.
Though he’d never learned acting, his serious face in the face of this overwhelming scene was enough to pull the audience in.
Next came Torman, wielding a sickle.
Then Milo, stick in hand, skinny and tall.
Only three extras. From now on, I’ll use magic…
One after another, villagers stepped forward, each grabbing a weapon.
“They’re all crazy.”
As more and more people gathered, hope began to dawn on the audience’s faces.
“Haha, I never imagined a farmer like me would have to fight monsters.”
“We’re no different. But as long as we have our knight, we can handle it somehow…”
“Hmph…”
The silly back-and-forth conversation slowly eased the tension.
But this, too, was just another setup to squeeze out tears.
Kong—.
Kong—.
A heavy ground rumble shattered the cheerful atmosphere.
From far behind the stage, giant monsters began to appear one by one.
Good. If I add too many details, the mana won’t last. So I’ll go with faint mist and eerie glows…
It was time to race toward the end of the short play.
I walked slowly into the center of the stage.
“Aren’t you all afraid?!”
“…”
Heavy silence fell. Every eye turned to me.
“We have loved ones waiting behind us.”
“There are injured people and neighbors who couldn’t flee.”
Whooosh—.
I quickly scanned the three extras and the illusions I’d gathered.
“We will protect the village today.”
I finished the lines and turned my back on the audience.
And then—
Thud—.
A weapon rose high into the sky.
One by one, everyone else lifted their weapons in the pre-arranged order.
And now.
Pop—.
All the illusions and magic on the stage vanished in an instant, plunging everything back into darkness.
If we’d had proper actors and staff, we could have gone for more detailed action.
But right now, it was impossible.
If I just used magic to wrap everything up, I’d die…
That’s why I chose the cost-effective route.
I let the audience’s imagination do some of the heavy lifting.
Perfect darkness echoed with the sound of cold steel clashing.
Followed by flashing illusions and distant screams.
A thud as someone fell into the mud.
Eerie silhouettes of monsters dying in the mist.
After the frantic illusion magic ended, the audience stared at the dark stage in hushed silence.
“Dad!!”
The boy’s voice broke the silence.
On the stage, which slowly brightened, the dawn light revealed a devastated village.
Injured people leaned against the walls.
People wept openly, clutching families who had never returned.
And the wife and boy’s illusions ran to me—my one missing arm.
“Did you keep your promise to come back?”
I switched to the pre-arranged line, then went dark again.
This time, everyone on the stage disappeared. The village landscape sped up like time-lapse.
Broken fences were replaced by new posts and buildings.
Gravel was laid over the mud.
Burning cabins were slowly restored to their former state.
A small well appeared, and children played nearby.
The lord’s flag rose high. Many people came to the village.
The village slowly began to thrive.
“Eh…?”
The flowing illusions on the stage had started to resemble the current appearance of the territory.
Thud—.
I walked back to the center.
The middle-aged man still missing one arm.
Swish—.
I canceled the final illusion magic. All magic on the stage disappeared, leaving only me.
“Today’s story ends here.”
I slowly scanned the audience row.
The villagers.
The servants.
A few travelers who had wandered in.
Some were sobbing.
Others stared at the stage with glowing eyes.
Perfect. Exactly the reaction I wanted.
And most importantly, the front-row Huck Merchant Lord.
That sentimental man was staring silently at the floor.
Tch. If this doesn’t work on him, it’s pointless…
Maybe I went too hard on the melodrama?
Or was there a glitch in the Illusion Magic? I quickly reviewed the weak spots in my performance.
That’s when—
A creak came from the front-row chair.
Huck rose to his feet.
His eyes were red-rimmed, and tears and snot poured from his beard.
Okay. It worked perfectly!