Chapter 66
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Intermission: The Saintess of Orléans (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Human greed knows no bounds.
And it repeats the same mistakes.
But Kim Yul was a man who had always pursued a forward-thinking, progressive life as a human, constantly learning from the past and growing.
That was why, right after selecting Joan of Arc as his new material...
"Oh my, so you've come to ask for my advice?"
"Yep."
He preemptively sought out Roselin—the one variable who could stamp "heretic" on his forehead—and built rapport with her in advance.
Of course, Roselin had zero interest in whether the protagonist was a saintess or a whore.
"Any romance?"
"Sadly, no."
"Aww."
She had merely checked if romance was at the core.
"Well, whatever. Just don't go too overboard with the blasphemy. What's so special about a saintess anyway? She's just an ordinary person who can borrow a bit of divine power."
At her so readily given permission, Kim Yul looked at Roselin anew.
He had fully expected something like, "Hmph! If it's not a romance, I won't allow it!"
"But asking me for permission... Does that mean I'm your muse? Oh my, how embarrassing already..."
"Ah, no, it's not that."
"Jeez, I was kidding."
Roselin playfully swatted Kim Yul's arm.
"Ouch!"
"Oh dear."
His shoulder blade cracked with a pop from the surprise strike that lacked even killing intent.
"Ugh, ugh... Should I show you first once it's done?"
Moved by the aggressive physical therapy laced with healing, Kim Yul twisted in submission to the irresistible violence.
"No need to go that far."
Roselin giggled sheepishly, brimming with apology.
"To be honest, if it's one of your works, Kim Yul, it's bound to have some irreverent or tragic elements, right?"
"Haha..."
"Hmm, minus the fact that I don't like those plot twists, your works really hit the spot for my tastes. Plus, I love theater too. Looking forward to it?"
"Yep."
"Whew, feels refreshing."
Earlier, when my shoulder spun a full circle, I nearly let out a girly scream without realizing it.
But after that round of treatment, the chronic nagging pain in my shoulder that had been tingling lately vanished in one go.
Saintess physical therapy.
The effects were incredible...!
Though I never want it twice.
Anyway.
With all the hard work putting together the script, I could at least prevent Roselin from showing up with her knights in tow, yelling "Heretic!" and branding my forehead beforehand.
I'd prepared a rough draft too.
So after heading home.
"Let's go."
"Traveling is an extremely inefficient activity."
"You said you were curious. And if you keep eating at home without moving, fat's gonna build up on your sides."
A tin-can punch, utterly lacking the weight of a saintess punch, flew at me.
"You keep rolling around at home, so you can't even land a hit."
"Guh, such humiliation..."
I forcibly dragged out the tin can—who'd lately been rolling around like it was her job—and headed back outside.
She was the one who'd wanted to see illusion magic in action, and making her walk like this would prevent our tin can from dark-evolving into Vilen dorf's Historie.
.
.
.
After The Hero and the Song of the Sea successfully wrapped up, I stepped into the now-quiet theater troupe building.
"Welcome, author. The troupe leader's waiting. But who's that?"
"My cousin. I mentioned her to the leader already."
"Ah, got it. I'll let him know."
Guided by the troupe member who'd first explained magical theater to me, I entered the leader's room.
"Right on time, Kim Yul."
The Magical Misi Troupe Leader was waiting, fanning himself with what looked unmistakably like a Baek Woo-seon fan.
I handed off the tin can to his direct understudy grad student to sate her academic thirst for a bit.
Then I immediately passed the script draft to the leader.
"You've even considered magical direction this time?"
"My little sis helped a lot."
"Basic ideas, but good application. Maybe she has talent for magic. You got none for it, Kim Yul?"
"They chased me out the Mage Tower entrance, saying they'd never seen a no-mana null like me."
"Oh dear. What a shame."
Don't say it in a tone that sounds zero pity.
I want to use magic too...
Want to stop writing weird stuff...
"Tsk, whatever."
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
The leader tilted his head at my mutter, then grabbed a pen and started slashing up the script.
Just like with the Magical Yi Sun-sin draft last time.
So I sat back relaxed, watching without worry.
The process was a bit violent, but the result was a flawless adaptation I couldn't nitpick.
Trust is key in collaborating with pros.
"Does this Jeanne really need big breasts? It's emphasized everywhere."
"Historical accuracy."
No compromises.
Imagine some Chloe-type going "Oho, this humble self is Jeanne d'Arc!" while swinging a flag?
Regardless of sales, I'd erase "Ulysses" from the author's name instantly.
That's how vital accuracy is.
Glancing away from the leader, I saw the tin can next door, eyes glued to a fantastic magical demo.
"Illusion magic can be seen as rotating the target's perceptual coordinates in the complex plane. However, since no system can prove its own consistency, we multiply the wave function handling visual centers by an imaginary unit from an axiomatic standpoint and..."
"Ooh, I see."
Our home grad student was nodding raptly at the alien grad student's incomprehensible jargon.
What the hell.
I don't get it, scary...
At a convo level no humanities major like me could touch, I blocked my ears and waited quietly.
"Alright, that should do it."
The leader handed back the dissected-and-rebuilt script.
I skimmed it quickly.
Like before, the story stayed intact, with tweaks adding more magical, stimulating scenes.
"Looks good."
"You read fast. So, publishing the original novel alongside, like last time?"
"Yes, if possible."
"We can swing that. But we're in a rush."
"Something up?"
"More like I have stuff, so ideally wrap and premiere within two weeks."
Usually... does work get done that fast?
"Actors? Don't plays need rehearsals and all?"
At my fair question, the leader flashed an ominous grin.
"Casting done by tonight. That kid over there needs time to hear the full explanation anyway—wait three hours?"
Tsk.
Got stuff to do.
"Hmmm, magical theater, huh."
"What do you think? Sounds fun, right?"
Despite the leader's urging, Catalina wore a bored expression.
Considering his stature in the imperial theater world—and as her acting mentor—it wasn't something to brush off lightly.
But Catalina was the empire's bona fide star actress.
Scripts piling up just waiting for her yes, and in magical theater, the lead didn't shine solo—direction held more sway.
Too risky to jump in hastily.
And one more thing.
"Teacher. Last time you said my acting wasn't up to snuff."
"Oh? Holding grudges? But this fits you perfectly."
"Why?"
"The protagonist has big boobs."
Catalina debated exploding in anger.
But sincerity gleamed in the leader's eyes, so she sighed instead.
"Teacher. You know I have stacks of scripts waiting."
"Sure. But once you read it, you might beg me first."
"That good?"
Catalina sat up straight unwittingly.
The leader might be a prankster, but he was thorough about work.
"I'll read it."
Brimming with curiosity, she snatched the script and devoured it.
Synopsis was textbook.
Ordinary protagonist full of conviction.
Clash between individual and massive power.
Sublime sacrifice in between.
But.
Reading the situations.
Savoring the lines.
Chewing over the meanings.
A profound emotion welled up, beyond words.
The power to turn ordinary tales special lay in narrative persuasion.
Jeanne's political and religious straits teetered realistically on real issues, yet elevated a rural girl plenty.
Soon she was engrossed.
"I took up the banner to avoid killing, and never slew a soul myself."
Even reciting lines aloud.
The leader smiled at the sight.
Page one, two, three.
Not fully complete, but at the core-heavy end.
"Though flesh may perish, my soul endures eternal. Oh God, I beseech Thee—protect this land and its people with this frail life...!"
Calm yet fervent.
Desperate yet compelling.
Perfectly capturing the contradictory emotions, her voice echoed like true prayer to the divine.
Then.
She closed her eyes, breathed deep, sending the protagonist Jeanne—who'd filled her body moments ago—away briefly.
And.
This...
I want this role. No matter what.
Swept by fierce impulse, unbound by sales.
"Teacher, you're a bad person..."
Catalina whined at him.
The lead for the magical play The Saintess of Orléans was set.
.
.
.
The rest of the cast fell into place smoothly.
Leveraging Fantasy Horizon's fame and Catalina up front, the leader nabbed everyone in a day, as boasted.
One role left.
The villain bishop Cauchon in the latter half.
And.
The leader had the perfect pick.
Not an actor, but someone who'd nail evil villainy on command.
"Wanna give acting a shot?"
"Me no good?"
Kim Yul.