I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

Not long after my secret meeting with Professor Gabi,

I found myself seated at my desk, refining what had started as a simple brainstorming session. The night before, I had drunk far too much, and now I was paying the price with a throbbing hangover.

“Ugh, my head is killing me.”

‘I must’ve lost my mind, drinking baijiu like that.’

After accepting the role of the lead in Phantom’s new play, thanks to Professor Gabi’s introduction, I was set to begin training with the Gellorusina Theater Company until the script was completed.

To celebrate, the professor had treated me to some elven liquor—too much of it. Now I was paying the price.

‘It tasted better than I expected, though.’

Maybe because it was elven liquor, brewed under the World Tree? It was strong, sure, but the aftertaste was clean, and the flavor was excellent. Even better, it didn’t leave me reeking of alcohol. And on top of that, I was riding high on the thought of a guaranteed A+, so I drank with reckless abandon.

Today was a precious weekend for students like me at the academy. My roommate Maurice had long since gone out on a date with his girlfriend, leaving me alone to jot down notes. But I had no time to laze around—after all, writing a play about Xiang Yu meant I had a mountain of material to cut and adapt.

“Sigh… this is going to be tough.”

Compared to writing about Admiral Yi or Julius Caesar, adapting Xiang Yu’s story was a real headache.

Xiang Yu and Liu Bang from the Chu-Han Contention were quintessentially “Chinese” heroes. For a country with an enormous population like China, they could afford to be indifferent to mass death.

The Chinese may even glorify characters who throw away honor and kinship for practical gain. But that kind of mindset didn’t sit well with the people in this medieval fantasy world.

‘I’ll need to cut out the overly ruthless and underhanded parts.’

If the audience recoils in horror at the hero’s actions, they won’t be able to immerse themselves in the story.

Moreover, Xiang Yu’s political background posed a serious problem.

Xiang Yu’s audacious words as a child, spoken while watching Qin Shi Huang’s imperial procession, were infamous:
“I will kill him and take his place!”

‘Even if this is set in a fictional world, I can’t have a noble making that kind of statement about an emperor—it’s unthinkable.’@@novelbin@@

And then there was the fact that Xiang Yu betrayed and murdered his own sovereign, King Huai of Chu, which was an undeniably treacherous act. If the main character of my play did something like that, the entire theater would be in uproar.