The mysterious playwright Phantom, who hid his identity, had penned latest next work, <Julius Caesar>.

 

And much like <Admiral Lee>, this single play had a profound impact on the Holy Empire.

 

If <Admiral Lee> had revolutionized the Empire’s military, <Julius Caesar> led to a transformation in the Empire’s politics.

 

Following the play’s premiere, the Empire’s politicians found themselves pondering over a single question before making any decision—

 

‘What would Caesar have done?’

 

Caesar, the brilliant statesman who never concealed his ambition, yet always strived to align it with the public good.

 

Inspired by his actions, imperial politicians, one by one, began to follow in his footsteps.

 

Influential politicians started engaging in serious discussions about the welfare of the imperial citizens — because that’s what the heroic Caesar would have done.

 

The Imperial Parliament began to pay attention to the treatment of the military, something they had long ignored — because that’s what the hero Caesar would have done.

 

Dukes and counts gradually began to treat their subordinates with greater leniency and compassion – because that’s what the heroic Caesar would have done.

 

In politics like Caesar, in judgments like Caesar, in actions like Caesar.

 

Julius Caesar was no longer a mere character in a play; he had become a moral compass for the ruling class, a guiding light leading them towards the right path.

 

…However, not everyone welcomed Caesar’s popularity warmly.

 

“Your Majesty, bring the playwright Phantom here for questioning!”

 

“He must have written this play with sinister intentions! The very plot itself is proof enough!”

 

Some of the Emperor’s advisors voiced their discomfort with the play’s narrative; after all, the protagonist did overthrow the existing system through a coup and become the supreme ruler.

 

Of course, Phantom, anticipating this reaction, had taken appropriate measures.

 

Intentionally portraying the Roman Republic as the embodiment of all vices was part of his strategy. He emphasized republicanism, not the coup itself. It was framed as a great dictator dismantling the corrupt Senate and ushering in a new imperial era.

 

Yet even this portrayal was enough to irk officials who were sensitive to political implications.

 

“Your Majesty. Who can guarantee that another Caesar won’t arise after watching this play?”

 

“Ban ‘Julius Caesar’! It’s a dangerous play that instills vile desires for a coup in the hearts of the people!”

 

“Indeed! The play must be stopped immediately, and the treacherous Phantom arrested!”

 

Such pleas might have swayed the Emperor if this were a few weeks ago.

 

The Emperor, in the past, was a man consumed by paranoia, hating even the loyal Duke Wenford without cause; but the Emperor who had experienced <Admiral Lee> and <Julius Caesar> was a different man altogether.

 

In fact, it wasn’t the depiction of the coup in the play that was troubling him.

 

“The founder of our Empire also overthrew a corrupt republic and ushered in an imperial era through a righteous uprising.”

 

Emperor Heinrich, seated on a grand throne made of gleaming gold and darkly shimmering jewels, looked down at his advisors with a furrowed brow.

 

“Are you suggesting that the actions of our founding Emperor were wrong? That overthrowing the republic was an act of treason? That it was nothing more than a vile conspiracy and a coup?”

 

“Well, that…”

 

“N-No, Your Majesty! We would never dare…”

 

This was another reason why Phantom had chosen Caesar as the protagonist for his next play.

 

The Holy Empire, ruled by Emperor Heinrich…

 

…was also once a republic, in the distant past.

 

Then, the founder of the imperial family seized power through a coup and established an imperial dynasty.

 

Therefore, <Julius Caesar> did not appear to the Emperor as a play inciting rebellion. Instead, it felt like a play praising the imperial family, indirectly glorifying the founder of his lineage.

 

“…However, even so…”

 

Emperor Heinrich nodded slightly.

“I cannot completely disregard your concerns. The play does contain a rather explicit portrayal of the overthrow of the existing order.”

 

“Y-Yes! That was precisely our point…”

 

“Then…”

 

Interrupting his advisors mid-sentence, who were quick to make excuses, the emperor stood up from the throne.

 

And imitating the gestures of the dictator from the play <Julius Caesar>, he made a bombshell declaration—

 

“If I, from this day forward, become Caesar myself, there should be no problem. If I become the embodiment of a true hero, beyond anyone’s reach.”

 

✧❅✦❅✧

 

“……What?”

 

“Are you deaf? His Majesty the Emperor is holding a new coronation ceremony! Dressed in the outfit of Emperor Octavian from the end of the play!”

 

“Uh, uh….”

 

“And furthermore, he’s decided to use the word ‘Caesar’ as a synonym for ‘Emperor’ from now on? Aren’t we going to end up calling him His Majesty Caesar instead of His Majesty the Emperor?”

 

Maurice, ever the bearer of shocking news, delivered this bombshell with a disturbingly cheerful demeanor.

 

He gripped my shoulders tightly and chuckled,

 

“You crazy literary genius! First, you moved every student in the academy to tears with <Admiral Lee>, and now you’ve upended imperial tradition with <Julius Caesar>! What are the limits of your talent, I wonder?”

 

“…………..”

 

“I have a feeling the imperial family will be looking for you soon. They’ve practically adopted your creation as their own; you might even get a noble title out of it. Who knows, you might even get invited to an imperial banquet?”

 

No, well,

 

Frankly, I had no need for such burdensome things as titles or banquet invitations.

 

‘I’ll consider the contribution fees paid by the staggering sponsorship funds, but please, don’t look for me.’

 

No matter how much they enjoyed the play…

 

A new coronation ceremony modeled after a Roman Emperor, complete with a laurel crown and a purple toga?

 

And what was this about ‘Caesar’ becoming synonymous with the word ‘Emperor’?

 

The level of obsession in this world left me utterly speechless.

 

Of course, historically, many emperors had taken the name Caesar.

 

Kaiser in Germany, Cesarz in Poland, and Tsar in Russia — all derived their titles from Caesar.

 

But that was in the original world.

 

I never would’ve imagined the same thing happening here, all because of a play.

 

“Well, it’s a testament to your incredible popularity. Even more so than with <Admiral Lee>.”

 

Maurice patted my shoulder with a smug grin.

 

“They say the worst insult among the students these days is to call someone ‘Brutus’. Apparently, it’s more offensive than insulting their parents; it’s like calling them a traitor who betrayed Caesar. ”

 

“Huh.”

 

Even in my original world, Brutus, along with Judas Iscariot, was practically synonymous with “traitor.” And now, because of my play, Caesar was becoming a symbol of the Emperor, and Brutus a symbol of betrayal, immortalized in this new world.

 

“Oh, right. Take this.”

 

It was then that Maurice suddenly remembered something and reached into his pocket.

 

“What’s that? A letter?”

 

“It’s from the Killgrewber Theater Company. I think it’s a fan letter addressed to you?”

 

Maurice was the only one in this world who knew the true identity of the playwright Phantom; therefore, he was also playing the role of my assistant, helping out whenever needed.

 

Receiving letters and other correspondence intended for Phantom in a way that wouldn’t reveal his identity was part of Maurice’s duties.

 

As the son of a Marquis, he had access to a number of discreet channels that ensured my anonymity. It had to be a chore, but instead of complaining, he was practically begging to be my assistant.

 

‘It’s thrilling to help a literary genius focus on his writing!’

 

I suppose he felt like Engels, who supported Marx.

 

{T/N – referring to ‘Friedrich Engels,’ }

 

He was quite similar to Engels in temperament—intelligent, cool-headed, and generous.

 

“But who sent this fan letter for it to be written on such fine paper? It smells so pleasant even from the surface.”

 

Not just the scent, but the texture of the paper was soft and luxurious—clearly expensive.

 

Whoever sent this was definitely not from an ordinary family.

 

At the very least, they were from a Marquis family, possibly even a Duke’s

 

“How should I know? I read it as part of my inspection, but the sender wasn’t mentioned.”

 

“Really? Well… there’s no name, but they explicitly identify themselves as an anonymous sender.”

 

『 To. My dearest genius playwright, Phantom.

 

Greetings. I am one of your many anonymous admirers.

 

Allow me to express my sincere admiration for your divine talent, which has recently captivated the entire nation…

 

Blah blah blah, there was an endless stream of praise for Phantom.

 

Regardless of the flowery language, this anonymous fan, like myself, had only one request.

 

…However, I found the ending of both plays, where the protagonist dies, a bit… disappointing.

 

My younger brother is also an avid fan of yours, and he was deeply saddened by Caesar’s death.

 

He even held a funeral in his room, saying he wanted to mourn Admiral Lee and Caesar.

 

Therefore, would it be possible for you to consider happy endings for your future works?

 

After all, many stories deserve a joyful and bright conclusion.』

 

The anonymous sender had even underlined key words to emphasize their request. 

 

To this, I had only one response.

 

“Just put it in a drawer somewhere.”

 

“So? Should I reply that you’ll write a happy ending next time?”

 

“Are you out of your mind? Why should I respond to something like that? Just ignore it.”

 

I wasn’t opposed to writing a happy ending per se.

 

I was just getting tired of writing stories that were too rigid.

 

‘But responding to that letter is a completely different matter.’

 

There was a reason why real-life authors often declared ‘No unsolicited advice!’

 

It could lead to being manipulated, and even if that didn’t happen, catering to a single fan’s request could snowball into endless demands.

 

If everyone and their dog started demanding that I incorporate their ideas into my work, how would I ever manage?

 

Plus, I’m someone who doesn’t reveal my identity, even if it’s someone from a Duke’s family coming to meet me.

 

I’d also properly arranged a consensus with the Killgrewber Theater Company about keeping my identity a secret.

 

So, whoever wrote this, I had absolutely no interest.

 

Unless, of course, it was a letter sent from the imperial family.

 

Otherwise, it’s just persistent pestering from a fan..

 

✧❅✦❅✧

 

“Huh, really? No reply at all, is that it?”

 

“I apologize, Your Highness.”

 

As the guard bowed apologetically, the woman lounging on a sofa in a lavish private room let out a soft snort and rested her chin on her hand with an air of elegance. 

 

To think they wouldn’t even send a simple reply?

 

To be so blatantly ignored? 

 

Of course, she hadn’t expected any special treatment, having sent the letter anonymously as a fan. Nevertheless, it was an unusual experience for someone who was not accustomed to rejection.

 

“Your Highness, if you so desire, we can uncover the playwright’s identity by any means necessary. If we were to interrogate the members of the Killgrewber Theater Company using the Imperial Guard…”

 

“That won’t be necessary. It wouldn’t do to burden a talent responsible for the next century of imperial literature. If they wish to remain anonymous, we should respect that.”

 

She took a sip of her Ceylon tea, its delicate aroma filling the air, and lightly chastised her knight.

 

Gazing at the roaring fireplace, the woman smiled.

 

“You’re an interesting one, Phantom.”

 

The more she thought, the more she yearned to meet him in person; half curiosity, half slightly irritated amusement.

 

Murmuring quietly to herself, the woman’s name was Diana von Clausewitz.

 

The eldest daughter of Emperor Heinrich von Clausewitz, and the rightful future heir to his throne.

 

“Then, should I take this as a complete cessation of any efforts to identify the playwright? That you would no longer be interested in Phantom’s identity…”

 

“When did I say that? I simply said I had no intention of revealing their identity publicly.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

Taking another sip of Ceylon tea, the princess.

 

A sardonic smile spread across her plump lips.

 

“But there’s nothing wrong with figuring it out myself and keeping it to myself, right? And if I find out on my own, well…it’s my prerogative to tease him a little afterward.”

 

“Uhm, Your Highness? Are you perhaps… upset that you received no reply…”

 

“Silence.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

The princess silenced her aide with a sly smile.

 

Diana von Clausewitz, the highest-ranking woman in the Empire.

 

She was surprisingly more mischievous than she appeared….

 

…And, she was quite petty too.

 

— End of Chapter —

 

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

 

Translator’s Notes – 

 

Friedrich Engels was a German philosopher, political theorist, historian, journalist, and revolutionary socialist. He was also a businessman and Karl Marx’s closest friend and collaborator, serving as a leading authority on Marxism.