I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy-Chapter 49

Even though Rosaline had briefly mentioned her, my imagination had conjured up a much more robust image—a muscular woman built like an athlete. But here she was, a slender and seemingly fragile girl instead.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Maya,” I said, extending my hand to break the ice. “I’m Phantom, the candidate for the Pen.”

“Maya.”

“…”

“…”

…Was that it?

I had gone through the trouble of offering my hand for a handshake, but there was no response. Nothing at all.

Was she ignoring me? Or did she expect me to follow some knightly etiquette and kiss her hand?

Just as I was pondering this, Maya’s eyes narrowed slightly as if something had finally dawned on her.

“Oh.”

She reached out and clasped my hand in hers, a bit awkwardly.

“Sorry. I’m not used to shaking hands. I’ve been a wanderer for a long time.”

“Wanderer? You mean from the training you’ve been doing?”

“There weren’t many chances to shake hands while wandering. I mostly talked with my sword.”

“Talking with your sword…?”

“If someone dies, there’s no need for a handshake. You can’t greet a corpse.”

…Maybe it’s because she’s the Hero of the Sword, but every word she says feels chilling.

At least she doesn’t seem rude or arrogant, which is a small relief.

“You’re the candidate for the Pen, Phantom, right? You wrote Farewell My Concubine and portrayed Xiang Yu’s martial prowess on stage?”

“Oh? Yes, that’s right. You seem well-informed. Are you a fan of my work, Miss Maya?”

“No.”

“Oh… I see.”

That was embarrassing. I had gotten so used to people being fans of my plays that I just assumed. This time, though, it was just me overestimating myself.

Maya, noticing my awkwardness, clarified her thoughts.

“But I do like Xiang Yu. Farewell My Concubine left a deep impression on me.”

As she spoke, she pointed to the orichalcum medal pinned to her chest.

Staring at the engraved words, I couldn’t help but widen my eyes.

Strike Hard, Small Conqueror

Hero of the Sword (Candidate), Maya

I couldn’t help but think of a certain samurai anime when I saw the words “Strike Hard,” but the “Small Conqueror” part caught my attention.

“‘Strike Hard’ was already there. I added ‘Small Conqueror’ after watching Farewell My Concubine. It means I want to grow strong like the Conqueror, but not fall into corruption like him.”

“R-right…”

She really had gotten absorbed in Farewell My Concubine.

'But what does avoiding corruption have to do with being small?'

And why “Small Conqueror,” of all things? From what I recall, the fate of the person who once called themselves that wasn’t particularly peaceful either. If I remember correctly, they were ambushed by assassins during a hunting trip… But, whatever. If she’s satisfied with it, who am I to judge?

More importantly…

“Forgive me, but why are you staring at me like that?”

Ever since I had entered the room, Maya had been staring straight at my face and my physique with an unwavering, direct gaze. It was starting to make me feel a bit self-conscious, like I was some kind of spectacle.

Of course, Maya didn’t offer a clear response. She just continued to inspect me with those inscrutable eyes.

“Phantom,” Maya finally said after a long pause.

“You, perhaps…”

Just as she was about to finish her thought, the door creaked open with a loud clank.

The air was suddenly filled with the sweet scent of acacia as someone walked into the room.

“Huh? The saintess?”

“Good to see you again, Phantom. How have you been?”

…It was none other than Beatrice, the blind saintess I had met during the production of The Exodus.

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“It's a pleasure to meet you, Hero Candidate Maya. This is our first time meeting in person, isn’t it? I am Beatrice, a saintess from the Holy See.”

“……”

Maya simply nodded in response, giving a polite but minimal gesture. Although she was cold and aloof, she seemed to understand the significance of the person in front of her and maintained a level of respect.

Saintess Beatrice, her eyes still closed as always, then turned toward me.

“It’s been a while, Phantom. How have you been?”

“You’re looking well, Saintess. I take it things have been going smoothly since we last met.”

Saintess Beatrice appeared even more radiant than the last time I had seen her during the production of The Exodus. Her skin was fairer and her silvery hair shone with a healthy sheen. She looked like she’d been taking good care of herself, almost as if she’d been eating and sleeping well, focusing on her health.

“Haha, right? I’ve been paying more attention to my skincare routine lately.”

“Skincare? Even a saintess cares about things like that?”

“Oh, of course! Just because I’m a saintess doesn’t mean I want my skin to become wrinkled and dry,” she teased, gently pinching her soft cheek with a playful grin.

“No matter one’s age or position, a woman’s heart always remains the same. It’s something you should keep in mind for the future, Phantom, especially if you plan on starting a family one day.”

“Well, I appreciate the advice.”

Although there was nothing wrong with what she said, it felt slightly odd to hear such remarks from a saintess of the Holy See. Were nuns in this world free to focus on their appearance without any restrictions?

“So, what brings you to the capital all of a sudden? And why were we summoned here on such short notice?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation to the matter at hand.

"…I’m sorry for calling you here when I know you must be busy, but this matter was too important to convey through letters."

The playful smile on the saintess’s face faded, and her expression became serious.

Still seated on the sofa, her hands gently clasped in front of her, she spoke quietly.

“Do you two know why the Holy See grants the title of ‘Hero Candidate’ instead of officially appointing heroes as soon as they are discovered?”

“The reason for granting the candidate title? It must be because of the importance of the hero’s role. Thorough vetting is required to ensure the right person is chosen, isn’t that it?” I offered.

“On the surface, yes, Phantom,” Beatrice responded, shaking her head slightly. “But the real reason is more complex. Do you know what that reason is, Maya?”

“...The Betrayer Hero,” Maya said, her sharp, predator-like gaze narrowing even further.

“The Alchemist Hero, Asenath.”

The moment that name left Maya’s lips, a chill ran down my spine.

Anyone born and raised in this world would have at least heard of the name at some point.

Around a century ago, Asenath was a hero who led the charge against the demon worshippers and demonic forces. But in a shocking twist, she betrayed humanity and allied herself with the very enemies she had been fighting, becoming a notorious mass murderer.

"That’s right," Beatrice continued, her voice somber. "It’s because of the precedent set by that Betrayer Hero."

Then, with a solemn look, Beatrice delivered a bombshell.

“Just a few days ago, traces of Asenath resurfaced. While tracking a network of demon worshippers, we confirmed her survival.”

“What? But wasn’t she executed during the war? I thought she was captured and executed by the Empire,” I said, shocked.

“That’s what we believed as well. However, it seems that through some unknown means, she managed to escape death. She reappeared recently, killing many and disappearing without a trace.”

“That’s…”

“Asenath is at least a century old. How she has managed to survive this long after the war is something we don’t yet know.”

Sensing our disbelief, Beatrice bit her lip, her normally serene demeanor replaced with a heavy seriousness.

“What we do know for sure is that she’s alive and active, plotting something. Her intentions remain unclear.”

“……”

“That’s why I’ve been dispatched to the Empire’s capital,” Beatrice said, biting into a cherry she plucked from the fruit basket on the table in front of her.

“With two official hero candidates now in the capital, I’ve been assigned to assist you both. Until we learn more about Asenath’s plans, I’ll be staying close by to ensure your safety.”

“You’re going to assist us?” I asked, a bit confused.

“I won’t interfere with your activities. I’ll simply be here to ensure nothing happens to either of you. It’s hard to predict what Asenath might be planning or how she’ll move.”

“Wait a minute. Does that mean you’re here to protect us? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? As hero candidates, shouldn’t we be protecting you?”

“Oh? Despite appearances, I’m quite strong, you know? I may not be trained in physical combat, but my divine power is more than enough to protect others. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I see…”

I offered a polite smile, though it still felt a bit odd. I hadn’t seen her abilities firsthand, so I couldn’t say for sure how powerful she was, but if she said so, I’d have to take her word for it.

"By the way, everything I’ve told you is top-secret, level one classified information," Beatrice added, raising a finger to her lips. "To prevent widespread panic, none of this has been made public yet."

Of course. This was the equivalent of Voldemort suddenly returning in the Harry Potter series. Naturally, the Holy See would want to keep a tight lid on things for as long as possible.

“I understand, Saintess,” I said.

“…,” Maya nodded silently in agreement.

And so, a shared secret formed between the three of us that day.

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"Are you planning to stay in the capital from now on, Saintess?" I asked.

"Why? Do you not want me here? Are you planning on doing something blasphemous that you don't want a saintess to see?" she teased with a sly smile.

"Oh, no! Absolutely not. Haha, of course not."

After our brief meeting with the saintess, Maya, the Hero of the Sword candidate, returned immediately to the academy. She had her academic obligations as an exchange student at Bronde, which likely kept her busy.

As for me, with a bit more free time on my hands, I stayed behind to chat a little more with Saintess Beatrice.

"By the way, I found The Cthulhu Mythos production quite entertaining. Watching the Lovecraft Foundation's acolytes collapse was quite a spectacle."

"Wait, you saw that? But… you're…"

"Blind? Is that what you're trying to say?" she interrupted, her tone light but pointed. "You know, constantly emphasizing someone’s disability can get a little uncomfortable."

"Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my intention."

"I know, I’m just messing with you," she laughed, touching the corner of her eyes with her finger, where her sightless, pale pupils rested.

"My eyes may no longer work, but my ears are just fine. With sound alone, I can form a decent mental picture. I’ve honed my senses to the point where I can pick up even the smallest sounds and vibrations."

...Was she a hidden martial arts master or something? It was as if losing her sight had enhanced all her other senses. Her statement about being able to protect the Hero Candidates didn’t seem so far-fetched after all.

As I quietly admired her abilities, Beatrice suddenly changed the subject.

"So, when can we expect your next production? When’s the premiere?"

"The premiere?" I repeated, a little caught off guard by the question.

"Yes. I’d love to watch your next play. After all, I’m the one who supported you as a Hero Candidate, so you could at least give me a hint, don’t you think?" she said playfully, popping another cherry into her mouth and wiping the juice from her lips.

"And it would help me clear my schedule. You wouldn’t believe how exhausting my saintess duties can be."

"The premiere date… It’s not set in stone yet, but I’m aiming for the upcoming Teachers’ Day."

Teachers' Day—a celebration similar to Teacher’s Day in my old world, where students and teachers exchange appreciation. At the academy, it’s an annual event filled with dinners paid for by professors and small gifts from the students.

Since I had already decided to create a sentimental melodrama, premiering on such a meaningful day seemed like a perfect choice. It was similar to how movies in Korea were strategically released during holidays like Lunar New Year or Chuseok.

"Teachers’ Day?" Beatrice mused, resting her chin on her clasped hands. "Lucky me. I usually take that day off."

"Wait, you only take that day off in a year?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, I am a saintess. I can’t exactly laze around when I’m supported by the people’s taxes, can I?" she responded casually, brushing off my surprise as though it were nothing.

"I rarely get the chance to watch your plays, so this is perfect timing. While I’m stationed here, I’d love to experience one of your masterpieces. That wouldn’t be a problem, would it?"

"…"

"Phantom? Is something wrong?" she asked, noticing my silence.

Despite her calm demeanor, there was something about her words that hit me a little harder than expected. She was still in her early twenties, and yet her life seemed completely dedicated to duty, responsibility, and sacrifice.

It reminded me too much of my old self, Ha Eunseong, back when I lived by the same principles—constantly striving to meet expectations, working myself to exhaustion without ever realizing the toll it was taking.

As that melancholic feeling welled up inside me, a sudden flash of inspiration struck.

"I can promise you one thing," I said with a smile. "My next production will definitely move your heart, Saintess."

"Really? Well, I’m looking forward to it then, Phantom. I hope to see that same genius I witnessed during The Exodus."

Beatrice tilted her head with a playful smile, clearly intrigued by my confident declaration. She seemed curious about what I was planning, but also a little skeptical of my bold claim.

The truth was, up until a moment ago, I hadn’t really fleshed out any solid ideas for the next play. I had decided on the genre—melodrama—but I hadn’t settled on a specific story or character to base it on.

However, my conversation with the blind saintess, paired with the upcoming Teachers’ Day, sparked an idea. A perfect figure to base my story on had just come to mind.

‘Keep starting and failing. With every failure, you will achieve something. And even if you don’t achieve success, you will gain something of value. So, never give up.’

I recalled the words of one of the greatest tutors in history, a woman whose dedication and perseverance turned a young, blind, and deaf girl’s life around. She became a true symbol of hope and a perfect embodiment of what it means to be a teacher.

The Miracle Worker.

It was time to bring her incredible story to the stage.