At the fan meeting for author Homer, his opening speech titled “Let’s Read the Bible” got a lot of people reflecting on their faith.

In today’s world, where magic engineering and deistic Enlightenment are on the rise, there were many believers in the Empire who were cool about ‘religious activities.’

They hadn’t denied God or turned their backs on faith. It was just that the modern age’s emphasis on reason and rationality had gobbled up the time for the passionate faith activities that were common in the past. This trend was especially strong among the progressive intellectuals.

But the author ‘Homer,’ regarded as the greatest intellect of this age, praised the greatness of the Bible. He extolled the wisdom and inspiration contained in that old book.

“The word of the Lord is eternal and the fountainhead of all intellect!”

“Our Lord wishes to save you all!”

Many people turned up at churches to study the Bible again. The churches, eager to join in, distributed free copies of the Bible and expanded their doctrinal education as part of their mission work.

Thus, prayers echoed throughout the Empire in the name of the Lord.

On the day the Vatican was preparing to officially canonize author Homer…

“A new work by Homer has been released?”

“The Sorrows of Young Werther” was published.

It felt like a nuclear bomb had dropped on the capital.

* * *

“The Sorrows of Young Werther” skyrocketed to popularity among young romantics.

The youth were instantly captivated by  Werther’s anguish and pain.

The violence of pure emotions. The lush sensibility and beautiful prose wrapped around the young hearts like a devil’s temptation.

“Ah, love! Even the most rational adults turn into childish fools! That’s just love!”

“Love is like a fever…”

It was romance.

A sublime romance that couldn’t be contained by laws or norms. A fierce emotion, a flame that scorches reason.

So it wasn’t surprising at all that free love was in vogue among the romantic nobles.

Those who were engaged ran off with their lovers, creating chaos and drama among the nobility of the capital.

“Werther is truly a free man! Honest to his nature, generous, and only strict with himself.”

“Who would dare say Werther has sinned against the Lord? He was merely… human.”

In high society, dressing like Werther from the novel—sporting a blue tailcoat and yellow vest—became all the rage.

Everyone looked alike, which could seem a bit ridiculous at first glance.

But anyone who had read “The Sorrows of Young Werther” couldn’t bring themselves to laugh at their appearance.

And then,

“You! Are you alright?! What on earth is this letter…?”

“I—I don’t know. Really.”

People who had thought about taking their own lives,

who resonated with the pain in “The Sorrows of Young Werther,”

some even managed to rise from their sorrow, instead.

“Werther’s fragility… it seems like it’s telling me it’s okay to be weak too.”

It was a catharsis through literature.

Facing sorrow, understanding, attention from others, and self-awareness… “The Sorrows of Young Werther” became a sort of prevention education for the taboo subject of ‘suicide.’

“It’s okay. Am I not here beside you? I’m not going to blame you. Human nature has its limits. I can’t understand the pain you’re going through, but I know you’re suffering from a fever… Please, will you allow me to help you?”

“…Thank you, my friend.”

And then,

there were those watching all this quietly.

“This book is… unsettling.”

“Suicide is a sin against the Lord. That much is clear, but…”

“But if it’s a book written by that author, Homer…”

The Vatican, preparing to canonize the author, Homer,

had also read the book.

“I will personally meet the author, Homer.”

In the end, they decided to face the source of the trouble directly.

* * *

“The Vatican, you say…?”

“Yes. I’m Cardinal Garnier. It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Homer.”

Since Lady Es couldn’t come due to adoption paperwork,

this time the Cardinal had come to the publishing house instead.

“Ah, yes. The honor is mine also, to meet a Cardinal of the Church.”

“Honor? We Cardinals are just priests, after all.”

Cardinal Garnier said this with a mysterious smile and then, looking slightly uncomfortable, cleared his throat, took a sip of water, and continued,

“We were preparing for your beatification, Mr. Homer.”

“…Yes?”

Beatification is the step before full canonization.

It’s the formal recognition process by which someone is acknowledged as a saint by the Church.

“I’m not a priest, though…?”

“Not just priests can be beatified. The Lord’s miracles can manifest anywhere. For regular priests like us who have only received blessings, it’s a bit envious.”

Cardinal Garnier’s eyes sparkled with a bright light.

It was known as divine power or blessing.

“The Vatican has concluded that the series of actions Mr. Homer showcased, including your artistic efforts and speeches, are miracles granted by the Lord.”

“Miracles…? I’m just an ordinary writer.”

“An ordinary writer who has produced remarkable works multiple times, and through them has spread the holy words of the Lord to people—we consider that a miracle.”

“…”

“I’d like to ask.”

Cardinal Garnier pulled out a book from his robe and placed it on the table.

It was a familiar title.

[The Sorrows of Young Werther]

“When you wrote this book… what were you thinking?”

“…”

He wasn’t scolding or raging about the book’s subject of suicide or that it appeared to defend it.

He was simply asking.

Just like believers do when faced with inexplicable miracles.

The Cardinal went on.

“At the handshake event, you, Mr. Homer, preached about the Bible’s value. You praised the word and celebrated the great inspiration in it, urging people to read the Bible. But in this work, ‘The Sorrows of Young  Werther,’ you talk about suicide as if it could be free of sin. You present those individuals as sheep needing comfort, as the weak. Oddly enough, many priests have found common ground with this book’s message.”

“…”

“So, inspired by the divine, I’d like to ask you, Mr. Writer, is some suicide not a sin, but rather a fever in need of comfort?”

I had no way to answer that.

I wasn’t Goethe, and unlike him, I had no theological knowledge; I was merely a plagiarist.

I hadn’t studied this world’s Bible at all.

So,

I ended up plagiarizing again.

“The law exists to suppress the strong, while the gospel exists to comfort the weak.”

These were the words of Martin Luther, the founder of Protestantism.

“I believe the Lord’s words exist to comfort us,” I stated.

“…Is that how you see the Bible, Mr. Homer?”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“…”

I wasn’t sure if that response was appropriate.

Despite all the groundwork, “The Sorrows of Young Werther” might still end up on the banned list, just like in my previous life.

“…I should take my leave now. Thank you for your time.”

“Yes. It was an honor to discuss things with your eminence.”

From here on, it was up to heaven to decide.

* * *

Ultimately, the beatification of author Homer was canceled.

Instead, the Vatican decided to award him the ‘Dawn Medal’ for promoting the Bible’s values.

And as the medal recipient, I…

“Nice to meet you! Aspiring writers! I’m Homer, and I’ll be in charge of your training!”

“W-Wait, is this the real Mr. Homer…? This isn’t a dream, right?”

“Yes, absolutely real.”

Finally, I was teaching at the ‘Temporary Literary Academy.’

It was only a temporary setup, borrowing space from the Empire’s Academy of Knighthood, but it was still a significant achievement.

Here, I planned to put to the test the teaching methods I had in mind, and if successful, to formally open an academy.

“I aim to teach you literature, with the hope of shaping you into wonderful writers.”

Of course, I wasn’t really a writer.

I was just a plagiarist from my past life.

“Teaching art is tough, so you might come away learning nothing due to my inadequacies.”

But I was also a writer—a translator.

In my previous life, I was a translator.

I translated public domain classics into E-books and sold them at a low price.

“This is the textbook you all have to read today.”

“Yes! …Wait, today?”

What I placed on the desk under the guise of ‘textbook’ was a mountain of paper.

Just by looking, there were easily thousands of sheets in a towering pile.

“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard. All you have to do is ‘read.’”

When training new translators at the publishing house, the first thing they have to do is translate a short story.

Not because it’s difficult, but because it makes it easier for me to review.

Specifically, translating short stories by unique authors like Edgar Allan Poe was one of the most effective ways to develop the skills of newbies.

(If I really wanted to push them, I could have them translate works by the Marquis de Sade instead.)

“All you need to do is read through all of this for today’s lesson.”

“Um, this textbook is…?”

“Oh, these are all short stories I wrote myself.”

“…!!!”

In short, my head was filled with thousands of short stories, enough to understand and review at a moment’s notice.

Thanks to that, I could easily turn them out in the language of this world.

This pile of paper was the result of that output—a carefully curated selection of hundreds of short stories for enhancing literary prowess.

“Then please come up in order to collect your manuscripts.”

I can’t create writers.

However, the works of great authors nurture the growth of great writers.

So, I hand over the works.

And the rest is up to the writers!