I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy-Chapter 48

It was obvious—early signs of a very serious case of unrequited love.

Just then—

"Ah, Miss Wenford! Here you are!"

A staff member from the academy came rushing over from a distance, looking relieved as he addressed Rosaline, who stood still in a somewhat reserved posture.

"Miss Wenford, could you come to the headmaster's office for a moment? The headmaster has something to request of you."

“So, you have a request for me…?”

"You’re one of the most diligent and exemplary students in the academy, Miss Wenford. You’re ranked at the top in the student evaluations given by the professors. That’s why I believe you’re the most suitable person for this request."

The academy headmaster, stroking his thick beard, continued to explain, glancing towards a girl sitting quietly in the corner of his office.

"Allow me to introduce Miss Maya, a candidate for the title of Hero of the Sword. She will be attending Bronde as an international exchange student starting today."

Sitting there, holding a beautifully crafted sword, was a new student in a school uniform—a half-elf beauty with sky-blue hair and striking yellow eyes.

"There’s no need to think of it as anything complicated. You’ll just need to help Miss Maya adjust to life at the academy. Don’t worry, it will be recognized as volunteer work, and I’ll add extra credit to your academic record."

"Excuse me, but is it even possible to enroll mid-semester like this?"

"As I mentioned, she’s here as an exchange student. If the term sounds awkward, you could think of it as a ‘visitor’ instead."

"I see…"

"And besides, she’s a hero candidate officially recognized by the Holy See. You could consider it a special privilege granted by Bronde Academy. After all, we pride ourselves on keeping the doors of learning open to everyone."

With a light wave of his hand, the headmaster cast another glance at the hero candidate sitting across the room. He then pulled out a stamp as if he were ready to process the extra credit paperwork immediately.

"In any case, I’ll be counting on you, Miss Wenford. I’m sure it won’t be much trouble."

"Understood, Headmaster."

Although the request was somewhat unexpected, Rosaline figured it wasn’t too bad if she considered it as part of her volunteer work.

It was just about helping Maya adjust to life at the academy, and it would likely only take a week or so.

With midterms over, her schedule wasn’t particularly packed, and, according to the headmaster, the girl was a candidate for the hero title, just like Phantom. There was no reason to pass up the chance to build connections with a future hero.

But… was it just her imagination?

For some reason, the girl didn’t seem entirely unfamiliar to her.

Those golden eyes stared intently at her, and though Rosaline couldn’t remember clearly, she felt an odd sense of déjà vu, as if she’d seen them somewhere before.

Just then, the headmaster clapped his hands, turning to the candidate for the hero of the sword.

"Great. Now, please escort Miss Maya to the girls' dormitory. As a senior at Bronde, I trust you’ll guide her well, Miss Wenford."

"…"

"…"

Rosaline and Maya walked in silence toward the girls' dormitory, an awkward tension hanging between them.

The uncomfortable atmosphere wasn’t really Rosaline’s fault.

Maya’s naturally indifferent personality made her a person of few words, and her responses were usually blunt and short, making it impossible for even Rosaline, who was kind and lively, to maintain a conversation beyond a couple of sentences.

‘This is so awkward.’

It was a suffocating feeling Rosaline hadn’t experienced since her father, Sir Wenford, had returned to politics. As she climbed the nearly empty stairs of the dormitory on this quiet holiday, she pursed her lips.

All she wanted was to get rid of this ‘burden’ as quickly as possible and breathe easy again.

“…You."

“Huh? Oh, yes?"

Maya’s voice made Rosaline instinctively respond in formal language, an unconscious reaction due to the weight of Maya’s title as a hero candidate.

It was such a formal situation that she didn’t even register that Maya, a mere visitor, had referred to her so casually.

Maya, who had been staring at her intently, spoke again in a quiet tone.

"Farewell My Concubine?"

"Huh? Oh! You knew?"

Finally understanding what Maya meant, Rosaline clapped her hands and, with some hope in her voice, asked,

"Yes! I played the role of Concubine Yu during Farewell My Concubine. Do you like it too?"

"Yes. I like it."

Finally!

As their conversation began to flow, a bright smile spread across Rosaline’s face.

The fact that Maya’s first words were about "Concubine Yu" clearly showed that she enjoyed Phantom’s plays. Rosaline was overjoyed that they had found common ground in such a stifling atmosphere.

"Do you love Phantom's works as well, Maya? Right?"

Eagerly, Rosaline pressed on, her eyes sparkling as she tried to start a typical chat between girls.

"Admiral Lee, Julius Caesar, Chaplin's Comedy, the Exodus, and even The Cthulhu Mythos! I haven’t watched The Cthulhu Mythos yet because I’m a bit of a coward, but—"

"No."

"R-right? You don’t really like them?"

"Yes."

Once again, Maya's curt reply came without a trace of emotion or ill intent.

And with it, the revived atmosphere immediately cooled down again.

Letting out a small cough, Rosaline cautiously asked why.

"Why? They’re all masterpieces in their own right. Why don’t you like them? Farewell My Concubine is regularly performed as well."

Maya’s response was simple.

"There’s no Xiang Yu."

"...Xiang Yu?"

What does Xiang Yu have to do with any of this?

While Rosaline stood confused, Maya lifted a hand to point at the glossy orichalcum medal attached to her academy crest.

Pointing to the inscription, Maya declared in a firm tone.

“If it's not about Xiang Yu, I’m not interested. That’s why I only like Farewell My Concubine.”

"Xiang Yu?" Rosaline echoed, still puzzled. "So you like Farewell My Concubine because it has Xiang Yu in it?"

Maya nodded, as if her answer should have been obvious.

"Yes. I admire Xiang Yu. I want to be strong like him. But I won’t follow his bloody path."

As she spoke, Maya’s fingers gently brushed over the shiny orichalcum medal pinned to her chest. The inscription on the surface gleamed under the light.

"I aim to become a Lesser Conqueror. I’ll take the strengths of Xiang Yu, but I won’t let his downfall become mine."

"Lesser Conqueror…" Rosaline muttered, trying to wrap her head around the odd term.

Maya explained further, "My master told me to follow Xiang Yu's virtues and learn from his flaws. That’s why I won’t become a true conqueror. Instead, I’ll walk a different path as a Lesser Conqueror."

"M-master?" Rosaline stammered. "Who’s your master?"

The conversation was taking a turn Rosaline hadn’t expected, and she bit her lip in confusion. Even though Maya was a half-elf like herself, she couldn’t quite follow the flow of the conversation. It felt like talking to a person staring at a wall while having an entirely different discussion.

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Most people would have found Maya’s attitude unsettling and would have distanced themselves. But Rosaline, known for her kind heart and patience—even Balthazar had admitted this—felt something different.

‘I’m going to have to keep an eye on her closely.’

It was that familiar feeling of leaving a helpless child near the water’s edge. Rosaline couldn’t bring herself to abandon Maya, no matter how strange she seemed.

Just as she was thinking that helping Maya adapt might take longer than a week, Maya turned to her with a sudden question.

"What about you? Do you like Xiang Yu?"

"Wh-what?!" Rosaline’s face turned bright red as the question caught her off guard.

She immediately thought back to the play, where Balthazar had played Xiang Yu, and she had portrayed Concubine Yu. The memory of their onstage romance flashed vividly in her mind.

"U-uh… well… that is…"

Like a broken wind-up doll, Rosaline fumbled for a coherent answer. Seeing her flustered state, Maya remained calm and said simply,

"I like Xiang Yu."

"Oh! Y-yes! I like him too! Xiang Yu!"

Rosaline nodded rapidly, relieved that Maya didn’t seem to know the deeper context of why the role of Xiang Yu was so important to her.

After all, only a few people knew the secret—herself, Balthazar, Professor Gabi, and the few people involved with the theater.

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Rosaline asked Maya, "So, you admire Xiang Yu for his strength? The way he made everyone bow down before him?"

"Yes. Like Han Xin said, strength only increases the more you have. The stronger you are, the better."

"I see…"

"But even if I gain that strength, I won’t use it recklessly like Xiang Yu did."

With confidence, Maya ran her finger over the inscription on her medal again, tracing the words as she whispered,

"I’m a hero candidate. I’ll only cut down the truly evil. I swore to never forgive the wickedness of this world."

Rosaline watched her, a faint smile forming on her lips. Despite Maya’s odd mannerisms, her heart seemed to be in the right place. There was a purity to her that was almost childlike.

Maybe, just maybe, befriending Maya wouldn’t be as difficult as Rosaline had first thought.

"We’re here," Rosaline said, stopping in front of a door. "This is the room you’ll be staying in—Room 503, on the fifth floor. It’s a single room, so it might feel a little lonely, but you’ll have plenty of space."

Rosaline handed her the key, feeling somewhat relieved that their awkward journey was coming to an end. "If you ever feel bored, you can come visit my room. I’m just downstairs in Room 401. We can go to the café together, or maybe visit the cute kittens and squirrels."

"Okay. Thank you, Concubine Yu."

"A-ah, no… Concubine Yu is a character. My name is Rosaline Wenford."

"Rosaline Wenford?"

"Yes, just call me Rosaline, alright?"

Rosaline patiently explained her name, much like one would to a child learning to speak for the first time. Maya, who had been staring at her blankly, gave a slow nod in response.

And so, a peculiar friendship began to form between this otherworldly Lesser Conqueror and Rosaline, the theater-loving noblewoman.

Flutter!

Caw! Caw!

"Ahh! Wh-what’s that?!"

Rosaline let out a startled scream as several black feathers suddenly scattered through the air. She took a step back in shock.

A large bird had landed on the windowsill of the dormitory hallway, right next to Room 503. Its talons gripped the railing as its beady eyes focused on Maya.

A glittering necklace hung around its neck, and in its beak was a crumpled letter.

"Wait a second… is that a messenger bird for military use?"

Rosaline quickly recognized the bird. As the daughter of Sir Wenford, a knight, she had seen these before. Messenger birds, bred and enhanced with magic, were used to deliver urgent information on battlefields.

The bird, bobbing its head, seemed to signal for Maya to approach. When she extended her hand, it dropped the letter into her palm before flying away.

"What’s going on? Why would a messenger bird come to the academy?"

"A letter arrived."

"A letter…?"

Rosaline looked on, bewildered, as Maya calmly examined the seal on the envelope.

"It’s an urgent letter, meant only for hero candidates."

"Ahh! Cthulhu is coming! The King in Yellow, Hastur, is going to fight for control of the continent!"

"Shut up."

"Haha."

It was late in the afternoon, and I had returned to my dorm room after finishing classes. My roommate, Morris, and I were passing the time with some pointless banter.

"Man, the influence of The Cthulhu Mythos is unbelievable. Who would’ve thought it would actually help catch demon-worshipping cults all over the empire?"

Morris chuckled as he slapped my shoulder, clearly impressed by what had unfolded. "There are even rumors that Phantom wrote The Cthulhu Mythos as a divine warning. Some say he received a vision from the gods in his dreams. Is that true? Did you really get some divine revelation?"

"What kind of nonsense is that? If I had received anything like that, I’d have switched to being a priest already."

"Haha, maybe. But you better not become a priest. I want to keep watching Phantom’s plays, after all. And what about Rosaline and the princess, if you suddenly go celibate?"

"Shut up."

I brushed off the joke, but in truth, I had been taking the recent events more seriously.

No matter how extraordinary the play was, who could have predicted that a mere horror performance would trigger such widespread panic and lead to these unexpected aftershocks?

This wasn’t like anything that had happened before. The scale of the aftermath was simply on another level.

I glanced at the half-used Philosopher’s Stone hidden in my drawer, next to the Hero Candidate’s badge I had stashed away.

A pen, when misused, could cause effects far beyond anyone’s control.

‘I have to be more careful about how I wield my pen from now on.’

Not for the sake of contributing to the world or fulfilling some grand moral purpose, but to prevent this reincarnated world, where I lived as Balthazar, from being dragged into the pits of chaos and evil.

‘Alright.’

With that decision made, I figured my next work should move in a different direction—something sentimental and touching.

Unlike horror or political dramas, which could bring out the worst in people, a moving story would never lead to evil.

In Korea, melodramas often got criticized for being overly sentimental, but only bad melodramas earned that label. A well-crafted melodrama could evoke warmth and catharsis, fostering understanding and empathy in its audience.

‘The question now is, who should I write about to ensure the melodrama has the right emotional impact?’

Just as I was pondering this, Morris suddenly seemed to remember something.

"Oh, right. Here, Balthazar."

He reached into his coat and pulled out something, handing it to me.

"What’s this? A letter? Did the princess send this again?"

"Nope. Looks like it’s from the Holy See."

Morris shrugged as he handed over the paper, pointing to the purple seal pressed into the envelope.

"Here. It’s magically sealed. Only Phantom can open it. Looks like you need to use your Hero Candidate badge to break the seal."

"Really?"

A letter so secretive that it required the use of the Hero Candidate’s badge to open?

What kind of information could it possibly contain to warrant such tight security? Could it be a top-secret message about the soon-to-be-established Lovecraft Foundation?

With a soft pop, the magical wax crumbled like flour as I held my orichalcum badge close to it. I carefully emptied the broken wax into the trash and unfolded the letter.

As I read the contents, my eyes narrowed.

"Three days from now, there will be a summons for all hero candidates at Etheldro Cathedral? And there’s an urgent matter to discuss regarding the safety of the hero candidates?"