I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

Honestly, I thought that after the performance of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort Part Two, Xiang Yu’s popularity would plummet.

No matter what excuse I make, it’s a fact that Xiang Yu kept trolling and messed up his achievements.

So, by the law of opposites, I expected Liu Bang to rise in popularity, and Xiang Yu to be treated like yesterday’s news…

…Surprisingly, my prediction was only half right.

‘Well, Liu Bang’s popularity did go up.’

His tenacity in not giving up while facing the monster called the Western Chu Hegemon, his contrasting ability to tame the increasingly cruel Xiang Yu, and his pretty decent military talent all contributed to Liu Bang being quite the charismatic character.

But Xiang Yu’s popularity didn’t drop.

On the contrary, the franchise of The Records of the Three Kingdoms skyrocketed like crazy.

“Ugh! Use Qi to Control the Sword! Taste the fear of the unborn!”

“General Fan Zheng! Unleash the 108 Arahat Formation! Don’t let Xiang Yu escape!”

“Huh? What? So, are we Qin now?”

“Hey! I don’t like the Absorbing Nature Law! You be the brave general!”

In every street, there were kids imitating the martial arts from The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort.
They were busy swinging tree branches, mimicking the factions of the Chu-Han Contention.
In the first part, all the kids idolized Xiang Yu, but now, it was noticeable that they were evenly picking sides according to their preferences.

Meanwhile, the same song was constantly echoing through the alleys.
Locations didn’t matter; many themes from martial arts movies resonated throughout the capital.
While kids played out the war, adults followed the tunes from the plays to amplify their spirits.

“Bravery against the fierce waves, the boiling blood in my chest is hotter than that red sun~♬”

“After all, only the heavens know who wins and who loses~♫”

Songs recalling Xiang Yu’s exploits became labor songs sung at workplaces.
The part of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort that hinted at Xiang Yu’s end became a drinking tune sung post-work.
Wu Hee’s song, “The Dawn Doesn’t Sing,” was transformed into a wedding song that promised eternal love.

And the cultural impact of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort didn’t stop there.
“Checkmate!”

“Creak, no! To lose to a king even in a game!”

Chess, which the people of this world occasionally enjoyed but didn’t really care for, received an official license and was transformed into a new game themed on The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort.
‘Isn’t a chess version of The Records of the Three Kingdoms just Janggi?’

I thought when I received a business proposal for a new board game of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort.
After all, they were just planning to change the appearance of the pieces and sell it, so how successful could it possibly be?

…But the final product exceeded my expectations and took on a strangely creative form.
“I’ll summon the commander card, Han Xin! Now the Han Dynasty’s attack points go up by 500!”

“Hahaha, what a joke! Then I’ll summon Fan Zheng with a strategist card and Zhong Lihai with a warrior card, and end my turn! This increases the Chu State’s defense points by 300!”

“Fools! No matter whom you summon, you can’t defeat this cheating card! Come forth, Qin Wang Ying Zheng! Absorb the health points of your enemies with the Absorbing Nature Law for immortality!”

They mixed up the rules with a card battle format using colorful heroes from the play.
They incorporated special cards that influenced strategies, such as Zhang Liang, Fan Zheng, Long Zhe, Xiang Liang, and Qin Shi Huang.
Thanks to this, the The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort board game was born as a hybrid of Yu-Gi-Oh and chess, eliciting cries of “What kind of horrific hybrid is this?!” from modern folks.

‘But the popularity is astonishingly high.’
Compared to chess, which was only enjoyed by a few nobles, The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort board game was much more accessible.

The gameplay was more intuitive than it looked, the strategy was surprisingly easy to grasp, and plenty of fun cards came bundled with it.
Thus, it became common sense for every pub, club, and even most households to have at least one The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort board game.

“How dare you insult me! It’s a duel! Draw your cards!”

“Alright! Let’s go head-to-head!”

“Patient, you are suffering from a serious level of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort game addiction.”

“Hmph. That’s ridiculous. Prove that with the duel, physician.”

“Assistant? Bring the game board here.”

The board game had practically become a new type of folk game like StarCraft or LOL.
Leisure, gambling, and conflict resolution all unified under the addiction of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort, forming a society of addicts.

But truth be told, these matters were minor.

What truly surprised me was a different situation.

“Ah, so you’re the notorious Phantom Writer. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Aah, yes. It’s my honor as well. Then may I ask your name…”

“I am Mir, the leader of the envoy dispatched by the World Tree’s Emperor for trade with the West.”

An elf noble in fine clothes introduced himself with a bow and then turned to look warmly at Professor Gabi beside me.

“I am truly impressed that a person who left to foster harmony between the two races has arranged such excellent cultural exchanges. The Emperor must surely be proud.”

“Too kind, Lord Mir. The girl only acted as a consultant; The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort is a work by the illustrious Phantom.”

Currently, Professor Gabi and I were at none other than the Clausewitz Imperial Palace.
The sensation of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort, which created quite a stir with its limited engagement.
The elf envoy’s side requested to meet Phantom to observe it with interest.

“Lord Mir, what exactly do you wish to meet me for? I am just a mere playwright.”

“A mere playwright? How overly modest, Phantom.”

Mir responded to my question with a meaningful smile. Then, looking me square in the eye, he earnestly proposed.

“Your work is a superb masterpiece even seen from the perspective of elves. No, even more so. There are hidden contexts only elves can fully comprehend scattered throughout. The way you systematically infused Eastern culture and perspective almost made me suspect you are a half-elf raised in the East.”

“Haha…”

“And thus, I would like to formally propose something here.”

Snap! Mir snapped his fingers, calling forth the waiting elf servants behind him.
Then, a servant approached carrying a heavy box, unlocking it with a key to reveal its contents.

Huh?!

In that moment, I was stunned into silence.
Gold and silver ingots, the usual precious metals that frequently appear in martial arts novels and comics, were shining brilliantly.

Pointing to it, Mir expressed his true intentions.
“Please sell us the rights to The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort script. I want to take this story back to the World Tree and show it to everyone.”

“N-n-no?!”

“Rest assured, this is merely a token of goodwill.”

Momentarily dazed, I fumbled my reply.
Interpreting my fluster as discomfort, Mir smiled again and snapped his fingers.
This time, another servant approached holding a white porcelain wine bottle.

“This is a world-class liquor brewed with ginseng aged for 200 years. Just the market price alone is equal to several nice mansions. The flavor is deep like a heavenly product, and it notably enhances the vitality of men.”

…Vitality enhancement?

“It means it’s good for your sex drive, writer.”

“Y-yes, I know.”

Professor Gabi said that with a playful laugh, stepping back.
I quickly cleared my throat awkwardly, shifting my gaze to Mir.

“So, in other words, you wish to purchase the remake rights?”

Of course, it could be requested if desired.
Though less significant than in modern times, the concept of copyright did exist in this world.
Moreover, it was common for masterpieces to be adapted across borders in reality on Earth.
For instance, films like Korea’s Oldboy and The Man from Nowhere went through similar routes, right?

Yet, I still found it hard to understand the envoy’s proposal.

“You’re willing to spend this much on just purchasing one script? Isn’t that excessive generosity?”

“What do you mean? You are not just an ordinary playwright; you are a formal candidate for a hero, are you not?”

Mir retorted with a look of incredulity.
He glanced at the Orichalcum medal hanging on my chest and stated, “What our elves despise most is not paying a fair price for a genius’s masterpiece. Would we really downplay a hero candidate’s worth just to save a few coins? Such an act would leave us unable to face the World Tree.”

“A genius’s masterpiece…? Um, forgive me, but do you even understand the story of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort? The protagonist goes up against the divine World Tree…”

Adapting the assassination of the Grand Duke of Zhou into a story of the World Tree’s arson was simply a courtesy to alleviate ‘human’ audiences’ shock.
From the ‘elf’ perspective, it was nothing less than a heinous act that would have them clutching their necks and foaming at the mouth in disbelief.
Yet, to take such a transcendent script to the World Tree for a performance?

“The world operates in a certain order when the rightful ruler governs it.”

But Mir showed no change in expression.

Rather, he maintained a dignified demeanor and firmly emphasized.
“When an illegitimate person seizes power, they plunge the world and its people into despair with their tyranny; this is the World Tree’s divine principle. Yet, nowadays, many elves forget this and pursue only sheer power. Unbeknownst to them, the arrogance and self-centeredness borne of this may lead to great tragedy.”

“……”

“Many plays exist in the land of elves, but I have not seen a narrative as excellently completed as that which warns against the blind pursuit of power as The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort. The depictions of burying 200,000 alive or burning the World Tree are shocking, indeed. But there are times when daring measures are needed for teaching, aren’t there?”

Could it be that the elves were simply lacking in storytelling skills like other beings? Their comment that there has not been a story better than The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort bewildered me.

Given that their philosophy was somewhat reminiscent of Confucianism, such reactions weren’t unnatural.
Unlike modern prejudices, it’s Confucianism that is rigid yet flexible in its thought processes.

They had often compiled the annals of tyrants to criticize the sins of the lower class.
How could one not be astonished that Mengzi outright claimed, “Kings and tyrants must be punished!” for the theory of deposing tyrants?

“And don’t worry. As I mentioned earlier, we intend to include sufficient adaptations.”

With a warm smile, Mir began counting on his fingers.
“Liu Bang, Han Xin, Zhang Liang, and so forth, all have strengths and character, don’t they? If you agree to sell the rights, we aim to transform The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort from merely Xiang Yu’s personal story into a grand ensemble play of heroes.”

…An Eastern-style ensemble play focusing on Liu Bang, Han Xin, Zhang Liang, and the others?
How strange. Why does it feel so familiar?
“That’s an interesting idea. But if it goes that way, then the limited title of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort won’t fit the work anymore, will it?”

“Of course. Naturally, as the composition changes, the title must change too. We are already considering appropriate titles. After all, the essence is a conflict over the dominion of the world between the Chu and Han…”

For a moment, he hesitated, and suddenly, he bore a joyous expression.
Then, turning to look at me with a merry demeanor, he asked.
“How about summarizing the story of the Chu-Han contention and calling it The Records of the Chu-Han (志)?”

“……”

“Hm? Why so silent?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

Goodness. I never expected the original The Records of the Chu-Han would be resurrected in this world in such a manner.

In the end, I agreed to sell the remake rights to the envoy.
The thematic significance of The Hegemon-King Li’s Consort, which states that governing the world cannot solely rely on violence.
It was hard to refuse their earnest request to showcase it in their homeland.

To achieve this, I also gradually revealed tidbits of information about the characters, which were omitted in the performance.
For example, the relationship between Zhang Liang, attempting to assassinate Qin Shi Huang, and the resistance against tyranny in the seas of history.
Or the miserable fates of Han Xin and Peng Yue, who were killed after the unification of the world.

‘Will the elven audience condemn Liu Bang and Empress Dowager for killing the heroes, or will they curse Han Xin for having a lack of wit to conduct himself properly?’
Well, either way, that was no longer my concern.
Determining what is right or wrong is ultimately up to the audience.
They would sort out discussions about the legitimacy of the betrayal on their own.

“Thank you for your hard work, Phantom Writer.”

As we exited the imperial palace, Professor Gabi spoke warmly.
As the royal guards opened the main gate, we stepped lightly outside.

“You’ve truly been through a lot. I must return now, as I have somewhere urgent to go.”

“Thank you for your hard work too, Professor. Please be careful on your way back.”

“Oh, wait!”

As the farewell was completed, Professor Gabi turned back to me, subtly adding.

“Don’t worry; I will definitely keep my promise. I just don’t speak with a forked tongue.”

“Y-yeah?”

A promise?
“Excuse me, but what promise are you referring to? Did we have an appointment together?”

“Hmm, let’s see? What could it be?”

Instead of a clear explanation, Professor Gabi merely smiled cheerfully.
With her purple eyes shining meaningfully, she ended with,
“Think carefully about what promise was made, writer. Now, I must take my leave.”

Just like that, she departed from the place without further clarification.
Leaving me standing at the entrance of the palace, bewildered.
“What?”

She suddenly said something cryptic. It just made things feel awkward.
Anyway, now that I was done with matters at the palace,

I intended to hurry back to my dorm to indulge in a nice, long nap.
Just as I was about to do that,

Suddenly, a huge man resembling a bear lumbered toward me.
“Excuse me. Are you the Phantom Writer, candidate of the Sword?”

“Yes? Yes, that’s me.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I am Bernhard, an aide to His Highness Prince Wolfgang.”

Nodding in acknowledgment of my affirmation, the large man greeted me, then said.
“His Highness wishes to see you for a moment. Would you kindly spare some time?”

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