How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World

Until I entered the academy, all I knew was my father’s former occupation, but I had no idea what exactly he had done.

Whenever I asked, he would dismissively say he was just an ordinary knight, and when I asked other family members, I received similar answers.

However, after enrolling in the academy and gradually uncovering his past, I came to realize that he was far from ordinary.

Not only did he survive in the borderlands, where people constantly perished, but he also managed to bring order to the region.

Despite the military’s assistance, he even took down a dragon.

That alone was terrifying enough, but learning that he was also involved in imperial power struggles left me with many thoughts.

“I suppose it was just bad luck. At the time, I had no connection to the imperial authority. The reason I chose him was precisely because he was a commoner with no ties to anyone.”

“Didn’t he voluntarily join the Navy Knights?”

“Something like that. But I never imagined that Sir Michelle would survive—let alone return after completely securing the borderlands. That single event threw everything into disarray.”

I had been invited for what was essentially a formal introduction.

At the head of the long, vertically arranged banquet table sat Verit, as expected. On either side of him sat Rina and Leort.

However, there was no one beside Verit—he sat alone. It wasn’t hard to guess what that meant.

‘Come to think of it, she was said to have passed away due to illness.’

It was widely known that the Empress had succumbed to a chronic illness. I had even read about it in the newspapers.

No matter how powerful divine energy was, it couldn’t solve everything. When it came to diseases, it could greatly alleviate symptoms but was far from a cure.

This was why medical science had developed significantly despite the existence of divine power. Moreover, the Empress had suffered severe complications, which ultimately led to her passing.

“Did my father enter politics?”

“Not exactly, but his mere existence became a problem. My siblings jumped to the wrong conclusions.

They believed that Sir Michelle survived because I secretly supported him, and that he became the Navy Knights’ commander as a political move.

Even I had expected him to die in battle, so their suspicions were utterly ridiculous.”

“……”

“Furthermore, Sir Michelle, who resolved the border crisis—one of the worst national issues—held overwhelming influence within the military.

Do you understand what this means now?”

I could roughly grasp the situation.

A war hero—especially one who had saved the country in its time of crisis—would gain immense political clout the moment they entered the political sphere.

This was why generals who had achieved great military success were sometimes purged as traitors.

Although my father’s case was slightly different, the core issue was similar.

To return alive after achieving unparalleled military success in a battlefield where death was certain?

And as a commoner with no connections?

People had no choice but to assume he had been backed by someone powerful.

This created a peculiar situation where both Verit and my father were wrongly accused.

I was certain my father had adamantly insisted on remaining a knight, raising his voice in protest.

The problem was—who would believe him?

“Because of this, my siblings refused to leave me alone. They feared the chaos that would ensue if I allied with the ‘Red Lion.’ Even though neither Sir Michelle nor I had any such intentions.”

“It seems impossible to simply stand by and watch.”

“Exactly. In this no-win situation, Sir Michelle had no choice but to reach out to me.

Unfortunately, he had also found a partner at the time, meaning he needed to eliminate any lingering threats.”

“……Is it really okay for you to be telling me all this?”

I asked cautiously, as this was a remarkably detailed story.

Imperial power struggles were matters of utmost secrecy, with the media completely controlled.

In an empire like Minerva, where imperial authority was strong, any internal conflict could shake the nation to its core.

However, since Verit had ascended to the throne before I was even born, it must have been major news at the time.

“What does it matter? It’s all in the past now. By the way, has Sir Michelle ever shown signs of distrust toward the imperial family?”

“I’m not sure. But instead…”

I trailed off, glancing at Rina and Leort.

Though they were casually enjoying their meal, they were clearly listening closely to our conversation.

The same went for Mari, who sat beside me.

The atmosphere was somewhat tense, though that was to be expected given the topic.

“He told me to come to him if the imperial family ever pressured or bothered me.

He never said it outright, but because of that, I nearly took a leave of absence.”

“Ahem. Hmm.”

“Hmm.”

Hearing my words, the siblings let out awkward coughs, as if caught off guard.

Rina’s face even flushed slightly, as if embarrassed.

Mari, on the other hand, let out a small laugh.

She likely knew exactly which incident I was referring to.

It was a moment when I had acutely realized my own power and also the turning point that led Rina and me to speak informally to each other.

That relationship had continued to this day.

“So you were talking about that. I apologize on behalf of my children. It seems their enthusiasm got the better of them.”

“It’s fine. Everything has already been resolved.”

Besides, compared to the Kingdom of Teres, they had been incredibly polite.

If it had been the Teres Kingdom, they would have abducted me outright or threatened me in all sorts of ways.

At that time, I hadn’t yet been revered as a saint, so the situation could have escalated into a full-blown conflict between Minerva and Teres.

Fortunately, the Teres Kingdom hadn’t figured out my true identity, which was a small relief.

“That’s fortunate. No wonder Sir Michelle distrusts us.

I’ve heard that even when we send aid to his territory, he refuses to believe it and personally verifies everything.”

“This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“Then please relay the message to him. Due to that, reports are being significantly delayed.

By the way, does Sir Michelle know that you are forming ties with us?”

He probably did.

Though my father distrusted the imperial family, he rarely interfered in my affairs.

Now that I was an adult, he expected me to handle things on my own.

Besides, my social standing was considerable, and there were practical matters to consider.

While he was rigid and stubborn in many ways, he was endlessly generous when it came to his child.

So even if I entered an arranged marriage with Rina, he might be displeased, but he wouldn’t oppose it outright.

“He doesn’t know yet, but I doubt he would object. He has an immense love for his child.”

“I see. Then we’ll proceed with the marriage arrangements gradually. Since your fiancée is right next to you, it would be impolite to discuss such matters in depth.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

Instead of me, Mari smiled warmly and expressed her gratitude.

Indeed, if we had already been married, it would be a different story, but discussing marriage while still engaged was inappropriate.

Thus, the issue of the arranged marriage was swiftly resolved.

All that remained were purely personal matters.

“By the way, when will it be completed?”

He was referring to The Chronicles of Zenon.

Frankly, I found this conversation far more enjoyable than discussing exhausting political matters.

The unofficial “exam” in the garden had already concluded, and nothing captured attention quite like a compelling story.

Besides, from Minerva’s perspective, completing The Chronicles of Zenon was surprisingly important.

Since the publisher was based in Minerva—specifically in Michelle’s domain—the empire gained significant tax revenue from it.

“I plan to finish it soon. After that, I’ll also release side stories.”

“Side stories… Like what you mentioned in the garden earlier?”

“That’s one, but I have others as well.”

One was A Hero Who Passed By, inspired by Clark.

Another was an if story.

If Jin were to die, the consequences would be far beyond what I had anticipated.

This was more like an insurance policy to calm the enraged public.

However, as indicated by the term “if,” Jin’s death was canon. I had no intention of changing that.

“That sounds interesting. So, after the side stories, what comes next? Surely, The Chronicles of Zenon isn’t the end?”

“It isn’t, but I plan to present a completely different story.”

“A completely different story?”

“Yes. I am certain Your Majesty will find many aspects of it intriguing. I can guarantee it.”

I was referring to a novel about World War II.

Of course, for better understanding, I wouldn’t jump straight into the war.

First, I planned to briefly explain the root cause of all evil—the First World War—followed by a summary of Germany’s rise.

This would also include the emergence of Soviet communism and the Great Depression in the United States, which contributed to Germany’s strength.

World War II didn’t happen simply because of Hitler—it was a chain reaction of long-festering problems, so a proper explanation was necessary.

“If Zenon himself is guaranteeing this story, I suppose I can trust it. But is this also a prophecy like The Chronicles of Zenon?”

“… The Chronicles of Zenon was never a prophecy, Your Majesty.”

“It’s hard to say that when you’ve already revealed so many things. What will you do if something similar happens in your next work?”

“… …”

I had no response to that.

Because of the prophecy Luminos had once given me.

The prophecy that three dwarves would march in triumph, leading tanks into the city—just thinking about it was enough to make my head spin.

Moreover, this world was just on the verge of entering the industrial era.

Eynes had already invented the mana engine and was now working on locomotives.

And to make matters worse, someone had even brought a car the other day—marking the first case of drunk driving and a traffic accident.

“…If something like that happens, I’d say it’s not my prophecy but rather this world’s rapid technological advancements at play.”

“You can’t outright deny it, can you? Then, another question—what kind of story are you planning to write next?”

Before answering Verit, I glanced at Rina.

She probably had a rough idea of what I intended to write.

And sure enough, she quietly closed her eyes when she met my gaze.

Neither a nod nor a shake of the head—it was more of a gesture telling me to do as I pleased.

Well, it was my choice whether to write or not.

With a slight smirk, I began explaining my next work.

“Your Majesty, imagine for a moment—what if this world had no mana? How do you think it would have developed?”

“Hmm. No mana, you say…”

“Mana is the foundation of all progress. Without such power, how do you think humanity would have evolved?”

“I suppose they would have been nothing more than easy prey for wild beasts, let alone monsters. Even beastkin would have struggled to survive.”

A witty but rather pessimistic response.

And honestly, it was the natural conclusion. Without mana, elves and demons would be nothing more than long-lived humans.

In reality, on Earth, humanity didn’t survive by being the strongest but by reproducing at an incredible rate to outnumber threats.

But humanity didn’t stop there.

They continued developing and advancing until they became the apex predators of the food chain—eventually reaching the point where they could destroy themselves.

Considering that it took tens of thousands of years for “technology” to be born, the time required was truly staggering.

“I plan to write a story based on that concept—if humanity had developed purely through technology rather than mana, what kind of world would it have become?”

“I’d say it’s not just imagination but something you’ve actually experienced.”

Leort, who had remained silent until now, smirked as he spoke playfully.

Clearly, he didn’t believe it at all.

The problem was—his words struck uncomfortably close to the truth.

It was an unexpected jab that caught me off guard.

Still, I maintained my composure and responded with a laugh.

“Haha. That’s an amusing joke. If that were the case, I would have written this story long ago.”

“True. If you came from such a world, you would have already introduced that technology.”

Fortunately, the conversation passed without further suspicion. I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Even Mari, with her mind-reading abilities, would find it difficult to discern the truth.

Because, technically, I really couldn’t use that technology here.

“Technology, huh…”

Meanwhile, Verit seemed lost in thought, stroking his beard as he put his meal on pause.

After a long moment of contemplation, he turned to me with a serious look.

“When do you plan to write this story?”

“After finishing the side stories, I’ll take a one-month break before starting immediately.”

“I’m truly sorry, but could you delay the next work by at least three months?”

“What?”

It was an entirely unexpected request, leaving me more puzzled than anything else.

And it wasn’t just me—everyone else in the room was equally surprised.

As all eyes turned to Verit, he spoke with a grave expression.

“You described this world as one without mana—one that advances purely through extreme technological development. Is that correct?”

“Uh… yes, that’s right.”

“If anyone else had written such a story, I would have dismissed it as nonsense.

But whether you deny it or not, you are already regarded as a prophet or someone from the future.

Recently, we’ve seen the emergence of mana engines modeled after steam locomotives, and even automobiles have been invented.”

After pausing briefly, Verit continued, explaining his fundamental concerns.

“The moment such things emerge, conflicts—both large and small—will inevitably arise.”

“Conflicts… you mean?”

“Yes. There will be those who insist that magic should be developed further, claiming that mana is the key to progress.

And then there will be those who believe, as your book suggests, that technology should be the priority. If these two sides could coexist peacefully, that would be ideal, but that is rarely the case.

Conservative and progressive forces are bound to clash. This won’t be limited to the Empire—it will spread across the entire world.”

Now I was beginning to understand.

As he said, every society has both conservative and progressive factions.

And they always clash.

Advocates of technological advancement typically fall into the progressive category.

Unlike The Chronicles of Zenon, which focused on historical parallels, this new work would clearly highlight ideological divides.

And since this wasn’t confined to a single nation, but potentially a worldwide phenomenon, the impact could be enormous.

What Verit was asking for was time—to mitigate the inevitable conflicts as much as possible.

Thinking about it, his reasoning made sense.

“As if dealing with demon-worshippers wasn’t troublesome enough, we don’t need additional political turmoil on top of that… It would be quite the headache. Could you reconsider?”

“…I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you. If it were anyone else, I would have laughed it off, but with you, I can’t take it lightly.

Of course, this is merely a suggestion—the decision to write is entirely yours. Keep that in mind.”

I let out a slightly awkward laugh.

My excitement over finishing The Chronicles of Zenon and my anticipation for the next work had clouded my judgment.

And Rina’s particularly enthusiastic reaction didn’t help either.

I had assumed everyone would react as she did.

“Alright. Let’s focus on completing the current work first.”

If I looked too far ahead, I might miss what was right in front of me.

With that in mind, I wrapped up the banquet.

[People supporting the Jin-Lily couple… If Jin dies, they are planning something beyond just a funeral.]

[The number of people opposing Jin’s death is increasing with each passing day…]

[Will Zenon continue to bring despair until the very end?]

After that, a series of ominous headlines filled my view.