In medieval times, playwrights generally fell into two categories—

 

Freelance writers who submitted scripts in hopes of getting paid.

 

Or veteran actors who ran their own theater companies and wrote plays as a side job.

 

Medieval theater companies were smaller and simpler in structure compared to their modern counterparts.

 

As a result, it was quite common for the lead actors, who were often responsible for running the entire company, to handle most of the creative aspects of play production as well.

 

Everything from directing to acting, and even to writing the basic outlines of the play. It was not uncommon for a single, multi-talented individual to juggle all three roles.

 

The Killgrewber Theater Company, where I had submitted the script for <Admiral Lee>, was no exception.

 

“Ah, you’ve arrived! The hero of the Killgrewber Theater Company! The unparalleled literary genius, Phantom, who stormed in like a tempest!”

 

A distinguished middle-aged man greeted me with exaggerated gestures.

 

It was Mr. Renoir, Killgrewber’s most popular actor, the company’s director, and its manager.

 

He had also played the lead role of <Admiral Lee> in the recent production.

 

And he was the one I had worked with to develop the overall concept for the play.

 

“I must say, I’m ashamed. Ignoring the advice of such a brilliant writer like yourself. I just want to crawl into a hole and disappear.”

 

…This was the same man who sent me a letter saying, ‘If you don’t like it, write it yourself.’

 

I touched the white mask I wore to maintain my anonymity and greeted him, “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Renoir. I’m here to talk to you about the recent production of Admiral Lee.”

 

The Phantom — that was the pen name I had chosen for myself. I took it from Gaston Leroux’s novel The Phantom of the Opera, which had also been adapted into a famous musical.

 

It was a bit cheesy, but I thought it was fitting for a writer who wanted to remain anonymous.

 

“Ah, Admiral Lee,” he said, grimacing slightly.

 

He massaged his temples with his index finger and said in a troubled tone, “To be honest, I’m having a bit of a problem. Academy students keep swarming the theater, demanding a sequel to Admiral Lee, which doesn’t exist.”

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. From our perspective, this is actually a stroke of luck. When such a commotion arises, it boosts the theater troupe’s profile.”

 

So he’s taking the ‘any publicity is good publicity’ approach? This wasn’t something to be optimistic about.

 

Those students were practically threatening to riot if they didn’t get their sequel.

 

And then there was Prince Wolfgang, who might decide to sic the Royal Guard on them.

 

Mr. Renoir, a seasoned veteran of the theater world, was still relatively calm. But the situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

 

So, I quickly presented my response to the situation.

 

“Here, take this. It’s the new script.”

 

“Ooh, a new masterpiece? What’s it called?”

 

“The sequel to Admiral Lee that the students were clamoring for. The tentative title is something like ‘Admiral Lee: The Final Battle.’”

 

“Admiral Lee’s sequuuueeeel—?!”

 

…Good lord.

 

“G-Good heavens! There really was a sequel? A-Amazing …!!”

 

Mr. Renoir snatched the script from my hand, his breathing ragged. He cradled it as if it were a sacred religious text.

 

After a long moment of excited gibbering, he finally regained his composure.

 

“A-Apologies. I got a little carried away. Admiral Lee holds a special place in my heart.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Of course! Never before has a mere play created such a sensation. I’ve been an actor my whole life, but Admiral Lee’s success was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

 

“…..……”

 

“And your script was so masterful! As an actor, I was completely captivated by Admiral Lee’s story, by his struggles and triumphs. I never dreamt I’d witness the birth of such unparalleled genius in my lifetime. It’s an honor.”

 

Unparalleled genius, huh? Honestly, that stung my conscience a bit.

 

I was merely cutting and sewing, but the script’s content was the life of Admiral Yi Sun-sin himself.

 

“This is… shorter than I expected.”

 

Mr. Renoir flipped through the pages, his brow furrowed. It was indeed quite a bit shorter than the first play, barely half the length.

 

Shrugging, I responded nonchalantly, “Well, it’s a sequel. It only briefly touches on the aftermath we couldn’t cover last time.”

 

The new script covered the events leading up to the Battle of Noryang, starting right after the Battle of Myeongnyang. It was naturally shorter than the first play, which encompassed most of Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s life.

 

If I had started to include other historical events from the Imjin War, the story would have become bloated. And if I tried to fill it with original content, my lack of writing talent would have been exposed.

 

Despite his slight disappointment, Mr. Renoir soon delved into reading the script attentively.

 

“Hmm… oh! Excellent! So that’s how it all ends… Fufufu.”

 

As the pages turned, the veteran actor’s face brightened with satisfaction.

 

No doubt, he was reading the ingenious exploits of the commander he would be portraying.

 

But soon, his face contorted with sorrow and grief.

 

“A-Admiral Lee… Admiral Lee! Sob…!”

 

Tears welled up in his eyes as he clutched the script, his hands trembling. He must have just read the scene where Admiral Yi Sun-sin died heroically at the Battle of Noryang.

 

Good, the tearjerker ending worked its magic. I had deliberately exaggerated the tragedy and grandeur for maximum emotional impact.

 

‘Is it because acting is his livelihood? His immersion in his role is no joke.’

 

Seeing him so overcome with grief, as if he had lost a loved one, made me feel a little guilty.

 

“Ahem… So…” Finally, I coughed awkwardly and carefully asked for his opinion, “What do you think of the sequel? Is it… acceptable?” I was a little nervous about his reaction to the ending, which was drastically different from the first play.

 

In this world, the development of theatrical scripts was particularly slow.

 

I wasn’t sure how the audience would react to a tragic ending.

 

But Mr. Renoir’s response instantly dispelled all my worries.

 

“Are you kidding? Acceptable? This is a masterpiece! A grand epic chronicling the life and heroic death of Admiral Lee!” He slammed the script shut, his eyes shining with excitement.

 

“No, scratch that! Even calling it a masterpiece isn’t enough! It’s a magnum opus! It should be recorded in history books as a monumental, timeless masterpiece! It should be designated as the Empire’s National Treasure No. 1 for future generations to see!”

 

Well, he sure likes it.

 

I couldn’t help but smile at Mr. Renoir, who was prancing around like a child.

 

Admiral Yi Sun-sin was a hero who lived in a distant Eastern land called Joseon. His story might not resonate with the medieval European culture of this world.

 

So, I depicted his life in the style of the “Ritter drama,” a popular form of German chivalric play in the late 18th century. German chivalric plays, or Ritter dramas, were gothic-themed plays focused on the heroism rooted in chivalry.

 

The genre gained popularity when Goethe, the author of The Sorrows of Young Werther, wrote a play about the life of the historical figure ‘Götz von Berlichingen.’

 

In Goethe’s play, Götz was portrayed as a chivalrous knight who defended the weak, lived an honorable life, and died a heroic death. He was the last true knight, clinging to truth and freedom in an age of deceit and chaos.

 

And that description fit Admiral Yi Sun-sin perfectly. It was as if the genre had been tailor-made for him.

 

‘While Götz’s life was largely romanticized by Goethe, Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s actions are all historical facts.’

 

Loyalty, integrity, courage, honor, and nobility. The virtues embodied by Admiral Yi Sun-sin were universal, transcending cultural boundaries. That was why I had chosen him as the protagonist for my play.

 

Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s story, transcending national pride of Korea…,

 

…It contained universal values that resonate across all cultures.

 

 

 

✧❅✦❅✧

 

 

 

“Extra! Extra!”

 

“A new play to be performed at Killgrewber Theater this weekend!”

 

“The highly anticipated sequel to Admiral Lee that even prompted academy students to protest! That very play!”

 

Newspaper delivery boys hawked the latest cultural news, their voices echoing through the capital’s streets. Barkers plastered playbills on every available surface, shouting out advertisements for the upcoming performance.

 

As Mr. Renoir had predicted, the academy students’ protest had turned out to be excellent publicity.

 

People who weren’t interested in theater, people who had never even heard of <Admiral Lee>, were all flocking to the Killgrewber Theater, eager to see the play that had caused such an uproar among the upper-class students.

 

In just a few days, it was impossible to find anyone in the capital unaware of <Admiral Lee>’s fame.

 

And now, the news of a sequel had everyone buzzing with anticipation.

 

“A sequel to Admiral Lee? I can’t wait! I’m not going to be able to sleep until the weekend!”

 

“I heard even Prince Wolfgang is eagerly counting the days until this weekend?”

 

“Damn it! Overtime? On the weekend of Admiral Lee’s premiere? This world is so unfair!”

 

The rising excitement from all directions.

 

Because of this, the city guards had a tough time maintaining order.

 

Audiences, unable to wait until the weekend, gathered in front of the theater, nearly causing a stampede.

 

Scalpers exploiting pre-sale tickets began to flourish in back alleys as well.

 

In the days leading up to the weekend, the streets of the capital almost resembled a battlefield.

 

“Catch that fleeing scoundrel! He’s a ticket scalper!”

 

“Oh, please, sir! Just let me off this once!”

 

“Why are you all here already? The play doesn’t open until the weekend! Disperse!”

 

“Silence! Do not insult the pure anticipation of citizens eagerly awaiting a masterpiece!”

 

Amidst all the chaos, time passed by…

 

And finally, the day of the performance arrived.

 

Those who had seen the original <Admiral Lee> walked towards the Killgrewber Theater with hearts full of anticipation.

 

On that fateful day, with the capital’s eyes fixed on a single spot.

 

Bang—!!

 

Admiral Lee stood on stage, a bullet piercing his chest.

 

 

 

— End of Chapter —