I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

Chapter 18

Wheeeeeng—!!

A biting wind whipped across the Northern Wall Fortress, a bastion of stone and ice, perpetually shrouded in snow and frost. This was where the Saint Beatrice and Phantom’s troupe arrived.

The play they had collaborated on, , with the choir and the church personnel, was ready to be performed here.

“Welcome, Your Holiness!”

A military officer snapped to attention the moment he saw Saint Beatrice, saluting smartly. He glanced at Phantom and the troupe, then made his report with reverence.

“Thank you for coming, Your Holiness! We have gathered all the paladins who are off duty today in the fortress training ground! They are all eagerly awaiting the start of the performance!”

“Thank you. Please, escort them inside.”

“At once!” the officer responded energetically, leading them towards the training grounds. The vast space had been cleared of its usual training equipment and a makeshift stage had been erected.

“Alright, men, settle down! As you’ve been informed, Her Holiness has prepared a special performance for you all! Let’s show our gratitude for Her Holiness’s compassion and watch with reverence!”

The officer commanded the orderly lines of paladins. Despite the cold and hardships, their discipline was impressive.

“.................”

“.................”

However, the paladins remained unnervingly silent. There were no cheers, no anticipation. Their faces were etched with a deep weariness and despair—a weariness and despair that couldn’t be dispelled by a single visit from a Saint or a play.

“This fortress was built during the era of the First Emperor to fend off the demonic hordes, a collaborative effort between the Empire and the Church.”

Saint Beatrice’s breath formed white clouds in the frigid air as she began to speak quietly. Her pale cheeks had turned a rosy red from the cold. She stood some distance away from the actors, the choir, and the paladins in the audience, speaking quietly with Phantom.

“Those who stand guard here face constant peril. The environment itself is as unforgiving as any battlefield. Yet, the paladins, bound by faith, defend it with unwavering conviction.”

“................”

“Do you understand what I mean, Phantom?”

Her eyelids, framed by long, silvery lashes, fluttered closed and then opened, her gaze fixed on Phantom.

“If this performance of fails, we all might have to pay a steep price. Not just you and me, but also the citizens who live safely and happily in the warm south.”

Even the protection of the heavens relied on the will of humankind. The nations that shared the faith provided support, but it wasn’t enough. If the will of those who guarded the wall wavered, everything would crumble.

But Phantom’s answer was as confident as ever.

“Do not worry, Your Holiness. I swear, there will be no failure.”

As always, his confidence bordered on arrogance. He seemed to have immense pride in the quality of .

“Ufufu, is that so?” the Saint chuckled softly, a surprisingly girlish sound escaping her lips. “Very well. You have my full attention, Phantom. Let’s see if your genius will shine through once again.”

“You flatter me, Your Holiness.”

The playwright feigned modesty in response to her words, but Beatrice wasn’t simply offering empty flattery.

‘Writing is a clear window into the soul, Phantom,’ Beatrice narrowed her eyes subtly, her pale, sightless eyes moving gently as she pondered silently. ‘Through this performance, I intend to discover the meaning behind your strange soul.’

There was no denying his talent; he had penned hit after hit that had taken the Empire by storm. However, there was something undeniably peculiar about his soul—something unprecedented.

And she would take this opportunity to see it for herself.

How well this man could write a religious play exalting the Divine One?

What the true colors of his soul, reflected through his work, would reveal?

⌠...This story takes place in a distant past, in a pagan kingdom known as Egypt, and recounts a tale both mystical and divine.⌡

Right on cue, the narration began, providing the introduction.

With that as the starting signal, the curtain for officially rose.

✧❅✦❅✧

The Christian Bible is divided into two main parts — the Old Testament and the New Testament.

The Old Testament tells the stories of the time before the coming of Jesus, while the New Testament recounts his life and teachings.

And in the Old Testament, no figure looms larger than Moses. Before Moses came onto the scene, the Hebrew people were nothing more than lowly slaves.

[Work! You lazy slaves!]

[Who... who are you?]

[I am the God of your ancestors. I have seen the suffering of my people in Egypt. I have heard their cries.]

The voice actor, enhanced with sonorous sound effects, intoned these words in a way that was both ethereal and warm, using technological tricks to deepen the impact of the divine encounter.

Before the prop of the burning bush, the actor playing Moses, Mr. Renoir, knelt in confusion, and the voice actor spoke to him.

[Therefore, I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.]

[But... but who am I to appear before Pharaoh? Who am I to lead them out of Egypt? I’m not eloquent... I’m slow of speech and tongue... what if they ask me your name? What should I tell them?]

[Moses, who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord?]

Moses hesitated, unable to accept his destiny as the savior of the Hebrew people. The voice of God rang out, stern and reproachful, chastising him for his doubt and timidity.

But God did not simply rebuke Moses for his apprehension. He offered him reassurance and aid.

[I will be with you, Moses. I will help you speak and will teach you what to say. And I will give you a sign.]

As the voice actor spoke, soft, multicolored lights illuminated the stage, creating an illusion of divine love enveloping the protagonist.

[Moses, raise your staff.]

[Through this staff, you will perform my miracles...]

As the last reminders from God echoed and the flames on the bush prop slowly died out, Moses realized that what he had witnessed was not a mere illusion.

With the acceptance of his fate, Moses prepared to change course.

His people were enduring endless suffering.

It was time to return to his homeland, the Kingdom of Egypt, where his Hebrew brothers and sisters awaited him.

✧❅✦❅✧

“Phantom? Are you sure this is enough?”

During the interval, as paused for a break, Saint Beatrice asked me while watching the murmuring holy knights from her seat.

A hint of uncertainty shadowed her expression as she nervously chewed on her lip.

“I can’t deny that it’s a fascinating work. But, you haven’t forgotten our original purpose, right? What the paladins need right now is...”

I understood what part of it might be worrying her.

The play had succeeded in engaging the paladins with its gripping beginning; they were all eagerly waiting for the play to resume, curiosity etched on their faces.

But, so far, “Exodus” had been nothing more than entertainment. It was no different from any other religious play. It hadn’t yet delivered that decisive blow to the heart that would rekindle their faith and bolster their morale.

But that was only for now.

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘The pen is mightier than the sword?’”

“No. It’s my first time hearing that.”

She shook her head at my question, causing me to shrug and explain its meaning.

“A sword can only cut one target at a time, but a pen, through its ‘influence,’ can strike multiple targets simultaneously. Sometimes, well-written words can change the world faster and more effectively than a well-forged sword.”

“Hmm.”

Saint Beatrice gazed at me with a slightly puzzled expression. She probably thought, ‘Isn’t a sword stronger than a pen in a fight?’ Of course, what I had just shared was merely a metaphorical phrase. It wasn’t as if the pen was an actual Excalibur, literally stronger than a sword.

“Have you forgotten the revelation God bestowed upon Moses?” I asked, a sly grin spreading beneath my mask. “He will be their voice and strength, just as God promised. So, let us keep the faith and see this through to the end. Let us walk with Moses as he returns to the land of the pagans to deliver his people.”

For a moment, she blinked rapidly, as if searching for words. Her sightless eyes, lost long ago, seemed to twinkle with realization. She looked so much like a bewildered white rabbit that I almost wanted to pet her.

Not that I would actually do that, as it would certainly be a blasphemous act.

“Ah, it seems they’re about to resume the play.”

Mr. Renoir and the other actors were returning to the stage, gathering their props. Behind them, the choir was getting ready to sing.

Glancing at them, I turned back to Saint Beatrice.

“Let’s enjoy the performance together. Let’s see how Moses manages to save the Hebrews.”

— End of Chapter —