Chapter 57
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Intermission: The Hero and the Song of the Sea (2)
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The Empire's second prince, Eisen, had no interest in the arts.
Music? Dull and boring. He'd rather spend that time discussing international affairs with his advisors.
Plays? What was the point of all that meaningless convulsing? He'd sooner inspect the troops one more time.
Novels? If he had time to read fiction, he'd use it to go through one more official document.
He was born to work.
If the serial overtime demon Hwang Hui saw him, he'd probably praise him with, "Whoa, this white cow gets more done than anyone."
The Empire had stood firm for ages, but peril always lingered.
First, external threats.
To the north, fanatical zealots from a holy kingdom whose motives no one could fathom.
To the east and south, the republican alliance that refused to acknowledge the emperor's absolute authority, lying in wait for any opening.
Internally, treacherous rebel forces led by that scoundrel Berthus Duke, who deserved to be devoured whole.
And alongside the mad black mages, the rifts wreaking havoc, intent on swallowing not just the Empire but the entire world.
The Empire had fought countless enemies since its founding.
And those conflicts raged on even now.
So why had he come today to see this bizarre "magical play," something he'd never even heard of before?
Had he suddenly taken an interest in the arts?
As if.
"Do you know the author Ulysses? He's preparing an entertaining show with my daughter. If Your Highness would grace us with your presence—"
It was purely political.
With Berthus Duke now fully at odds, allying with Schneisen Duke—even if the elves weren't thrilled about it—was no bad move.
And Ulysses, no less.
He'd heard the name in a conversation with his father.
A guy who wrote ridiculously entertaining stuff, or something like that.
He'd probably never grasp what made it "ridiculously entertaining," but it piqued his interest enough.
Of course, the moment he planted himself in the VIP seat.
"Hoo..."
Lack of sleep from processing documents until dawn turned into a sleep demon that swiftly overtook him.
The one advantage plays had over other arts was that you could doze off without anyone batting an eye.
And so, before the curtain even rose, he closed his eyes.
But.
"Kurrung... Kukuung...!"
"...?"
Startled awake by the sound of thunder crashing down, Eisen's retinas caught.
The back of a man standing in unfamiliar armor, lightning bolting behind him.
And from the next moment.
Until the curtain fell midway once.
He doubted if he was under some powerful illusion magic, yet he immersed himself in the story.
A brief glimpse into the protagonist's past.
"Even the paulownia tree at the government office belongs to the state; you cannot cut it down for personal use."
Just one line revealed the protagonist's unyielding integrity, his strict separation of public and private—a model bureaucrat.
Even after rising to admiral of the navy, he shunned promotions, diligently handling his duties while meticulously preparing for the inevitable war.
"Overall, he reminds me of myself..."
Muttering a line that could have come from Berthus Duke's mad mouth, Eisen quickly lost himself in that upright, steadfast life.
And then, the naval battle.
Victory after victory.
The one that shook Eisen's mind the hardest.
"...A tactic like this?"
The sea battle at Hansan Island.
Up until then, it had been one-sided gains through clever ambushes exploiting enemy weaknesses.
This time, a head-on clash.
But brilliantly executed.
He naturally lured the enemy from their advantageous position, intentionally exposing a gap in his own lines.
Then, against foes who had abandoned their terrain edge, he formed a massive encirclement—like a phoenix spreading its wings—in three prongs, annihilating them in one fell swoop.
Possible?
Yes.
Difficult?
Excruciatingly so.
Simple idea?
...Far from it.
You couldn't depict such precision without mastery of strategy—especially large-scale tactics involving entire armies.
.
.
.
From then on, until the play ended, Eisen drank in every detail without so much as a sip of water.
"Ugh, ugh..."
"General..."
"No, the protagonist died again..."
"What the hell! Yi Sun-sin! Why'd you have to go!"
The audience was so immersed they turned into a sea of tears.
A blonde girl even rushed the stage, grabbing the fallen actor by the collar.
Even after the commotion settled and applause poured out in thanks for a great show.
Eisen didn't budge from his seat.
"O, oooh..."
Others might not get it.
But Eisen shuddered at the author's astonishing imagination—and felt deep respect.
Of course, one hero reshaping the battlefield was dramatically portrayed.
But what caught his eye was different.
Ordinary soldiers.
Humans from the nation of Joseon.
Goblins from the nation of Wa.
All wielding magic sticks without distinction.
Weapons that could stop enemies from afar, seemingly packing lethality (with some dramatic flair) yet not demanding high skill to use.
Sure, for superhumans like Yi Sun-sin in the play, they might lack stopping power.
But the Demon Realm?
If ordinary soldiers suffering from the Demon Realm's mystery beasts got personal ranged weapons like that?
In the mana-scarce Demon Realm, where even high-rank mages were crippled.
Couldn't it be a ray of hope, an extension of life?
"Whoa, that was insane."
Watching Esthea's finale—grabbing the lead actor by the collar—I couldn't help but let out a gasp of admiration.
It was leagues beyond the rehearsal.
Actors entering and exiting?
Instant scene changes via teleportation magic.
No chance for immersion to break amid the barrage of flashy effects.
Every time the double-barreled magic gun flashed, goblins sprayed blood and crumpled—enough to make you wonder if they were really alive.
And the combat accuracy I'd worried about? Better than expected.
The depiction of the Crane Wing Formation debuting at Hansan.
And the great Shogun Mudaguchi Gunwon's fantastical victory at Chilcheollyang.
Against that long-planned grand strategy.
"Though our forces are few, this humble servant has not yet perished, so dare not look down on us... Whew, what lingering impact."
Even the empty-can AI, whose human emotions weren't fully loaded yet, delivered that iconic line with a burning chest.
"If you seek death, you shall live; if you seek life, you shall die! Get up, Yi Sun-siiin! This isn't the time to go!"
"...Tin can. Go grab her. It's getting embarrassing."
"Yes..."
Alongside the image of that yellow pup who'd probably fetch two longswords longer than her tail by tomorrow and strut around declaring, "Ahem! I am E Sun-sin!"
"If only not for that vile death beam at the end..."
"Sniff, those wicked goblin shamans..."
"But what's a matchlock?"
"Some magic tool? It spat fire."
"Never seen ships like those models before... but they seemed pretty practical..."
"Hey, come on! You're thinking work even here?"
"But how do you even counter dragon-breath-spewing ships?"
"Gotta catch the second show tomorrow...!"
Slipping backstage, I eavesdropped on the chattering crowds filing out and felt certain.
This.
It's a massive hit.
The original novel's gonna sell like crazy...!
Exchanging a glance with Historie—who'd captured the child-bothering mongrel—I strode confidently into the cast-and-crew-only zone.
"Ugh, what's with that kid?"
"Woo-hoo! How was my performance?!"
Greeting the lead actors.
"Kikikit! Fun!"
"Heart... hurts...!"
"You, cried! Acting, bad!"
Thankfully, thanks to Magical=Death Flag, the goblin actors whose lives weren't actually threatened caught my eye too.
I left praise for the leads.
"The finest Yi Sun-sin and the finest Gunwon."
"Finest Gunwon? Feels a bit backhanded, haha!"
Eh.
Kinda does...
Of course, I didn't forget to thumbs-up the Joseon navy and Wa forces performers too.
They'd boost our play and novel sales countless times over, so I wanted to shower them with gold foil if I could.
But that'll wait for royalties.
No cash now...
"Speaking of, where's the elf-eared one?"
"Elf-eared, huh? You do treat Miss Chloe's ears like handles. Well, she hasn't come back yet."
Handles? Sounds super lewd.
This perverted goblin freak.
Wait, aren't goblin and pervert synonyms?
...No racist joke like that made it past my lips.
Bang—
Speak of the devil, the door flew open as Chloe returned, mongrel in tow.
"Hm, Ulysses. Long time no see."
"Hello... sir...?"
Seeing her play the pure, demure lady in front of her dad nearly made me crack up.
But sadly, I wasn't in a laughing mood.
A stranger stood beside the duke.
Well, not that strange.
I'd seen him on the red carpet earlier.
Having beheld the imperial bloodline, should I kowtow thrice? My mind premiered the sequel to Runoobanjok.
"Why don't you enlist voluntarily?"
The second prince flashed an innocently bright smile and revved up right in front of me.
What the fuck?