✦ Chapter 28 – Elf Theatre Studies Introduction (1) ✦
「Translator – Creator」
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“I realize this sounds preposterous, M’Lord! But I urge you to consider the implications! That individual will undoubtedly become an impediment to our plans…”
“An impediment? What impediment? How can a mere pen pose a threat to us?”
“That… well…”
To be fair, the subordinate’s assertions could have been laughable.
The Legion Commander had been tasked with providing a comprehensive analysis of the battlefield, and all he’d returned with was a collection of nonsensical ramblings.
“The Hero of the Pen candidate has awakened ancient spells, manipulated and brainwashed minds, and somehow obtained supernatural powers with a mere pen…”
Irritated, the Overlord glared at the Legion Commander with bulging eyes and sharply reprimanded him.
“We barely have time to breathe, toiling away in this frozen wasteland, preparing for the future of our kind! And you dare insult my intelligence with such pathetic excuses?!”
“These are not excuses! Do not underestimate the Hero of the Pen simply because his title sounds absurd! You must not underestimate him…”
“Seize him and throw him in the dungeon! He will be punished for his failure in due time.”
“G-Great Overlord! Please, believe me! The Hero of the Pen! You must not underestimate his power—!!”
As he was dragged away by the undead minions, the Legion Commander wailed in despair.
Watching him intently, the Overlord muttered with incredulity.
“Those humans… appointing anyone and everyone as Hero Candidates. Are they losing their minds?”
“Perhaps it’s a good thing, Your Excellency. It’s a sign of their weakness—that they would entrust such a ludicrous title with so much power,” said his advisor, standing beside the throne.
Grasping the armrest of his flaming throne, the Overlord responded.
“This ‘Hero of the Pen’ is of no concern. What of the Hero of the Sword?”
“The half-elf, Your Excellency? Rest assured, she continues to wander aimlessly.”
The Hero of the Sword, a contemporary of Phantom, the Hero of the Pen candidate…
While her potential was formidable, her unpredictable nature made her even more dangerous.
The demons kept a close eye on her movements for another reason.
“…Keep a watchful eye on the Sword Hero Candidate.”
As he rose from the flaming throne and approached a crystal set behind him, the Overlord added,
“That girl is not normal. Is it because she is a filthy half-breed, sharing the blood of two races? She seems to lack something significant, as if a mule stubbornly devoid of what should be……inherent.”
The crystal pulsed with dark, sinister mana—a swirling mass of blood magic. The Overlord caressed its surface, his tone grave.
“And it is this very incompleteness… that may lead her to join our cause — if guided by fate — to embrace our path of conquest and bloodshed.”
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“Balthazar Arture, are you paying attention?”
Snap—!
“Ouch!”
A playful flick on the forehead startled me out of my reverie.
I winced, rubbing my forehead and turning to face the culprit.
“I know the lecture is boring, but a student shouldn’t ignore their teacher’s teachings, should they?”
The figure before me had deep violet hair, the color of amethyst, and matching eyes that sparkled like gemstones; an eyepatch covered her left eye, and her ears were long and pointed, a clear sign of her elven heritage.
It was Professor Gaby, my elven professor from Bronde Academy.
“You’re going to hurt my feelings if you keep spacing out like this. We’ve known each other since our freshman year, haven’t we?”
“S-Sorry, Professor.”
My words came out muffled as she playfully pinched my cheeks.
Laughter filled the lecture hall, echoing from the other students.
Releasing my cheek, Professor Gabu looked around the hall and announced,
“Alright, alright, settle down. I know it’s hard to focus right after lunch. But at least we don’t have a double lecture today, right? Pay attention, and I’ll let you out ten minutes early.”
“Yay, Professor!”
“We love you, Gaby!”
“Alright, quiet down. Let’s talk about Elven art, shall we?”
She turned towards the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk with her left hand.
Most people would use their right hand to write, but Professor Gaby couldn’t.
She’d lost her right arm in a battle, long ago.
Flap—! Flap—!
Her empty sleeve swayed as she moved.
And the eyepatch covering her left eye, lost to shrapnel.
These disabilities, difficult for most to overcome, seemed trivial in contrast to her bright and cheerful disposition.
Her classes were so lively and enjoyable that students scrambled to enroll in them, making them the most sought-after at Bronde.
Even the students who’d been waging a rating war just yesterday were now laughing and enjoying themselves in her class.
“Now, look closely. This is a typical Elven landscape painting. Quite different from human styles, wouldn’t you say?”
Professor Gaby held up a scroll, unfurling it to reveal an intricate painting.
“Elven paintings are characterized by strong contrasts in black and white and a focus on harmony with nature. Unlike human paintings, which often use oil paints, Elves prefer ink and traditional paper, known as ‘hwaseonji’.”
Black and white contrasts, harmony with nature, ink, hwaseonji…
Anyone familiar with East Asian culture would immediately recognize these elements.
Surprisingly, the elves of this world possessed a distinctly Eastern aesthetic.
Professor Gaby’s attire, for instance, was reminiscent of a martial arts master straight out of a wuxia novel.
Her class, {Cultural Exchange between East and West: Elves and Humans}, was a general education course that offered a rare opportunity for someone from a typical Western fantasy world like myself to learn about the customs and traditions of a world with Eastern fantasy elements.
‘That’s why I usually find this class incredibly interesting.’
I mean, come on. Beautiful elf teaching you about a world inspired by Eastern fantasy? How could anyone resist?
However, my mind was preoccupied at the moment.
…And yet, my mind kept drifting elsewhere.
‘…So, what should my next work be?’
I needed a protagonist with a more visceral, raw appeal than the typical noble hero, someone who could carry a story driven by action and romance.
The problem was, I had too many options; every potential candidate seemed promising, making it even harder to choose.
Should I focus on the exploits of Achilles, the hero of the Trojan War?
Or perhaps chronicle the conquests of Alexander the Great, who built a vast empire spanning Eurasia?
Or maybe write a biography of Richard the Lionheart, the legendary King who tore through Islamic armies?
“Ugh, nothing’s really grabbing my attention…” I mumbled quietly to myself, ensuring no one heard.
Thanks to the Philosopher’s Stone, I could now write much faster, but I still needed a spark of inspiration, an idea that I could truly get excited about.
Something suitable for the stage… something that made me think, “This is it!”.
As I continued to search my mind for the right candidate, Professor Gabi’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“Now, let’s explore the traditional performing arts of the Elves. Recently, the plays of Phantom have become extremely popular, haven’t they?”
Having finished her explanation of Elven painting techniques, Professor Gaby rolled up the scroll and continued.
“I hear you can’t even hold a conversation with young people these days if you haven’t seen his plays. That’s why I’ve been making sure to catch every one of them. Even a grumpy old elf like me needs to be able to relate to my teaching assistants, right?” she said, winking.
Students laughed heartily once again, filling the room with mirth.
With a wave of her hand, she quieted them down and went on.
“Elven performances differ significantly from human ones. They favor elaborate choreography and exaggerated makeup. It’s also common to musically compose the actor’s lines.”
“Musically compose the lines? What does that mean?”
“They write the dialogue in a rhythmic, poetic manner? Humans do that too.”
The students looked confused.
The concept seemed a bit abstract, hard to grasp based on words alone.
Seeing this, Professor Gaby smiled and cleared her throat.
After all, even Professor Gaby was dressed like a martial arts master.
She then proceeded to demonstrate this “Elven-style” performance…
“What the…?”
“Pffft! Hahaha! That screeching is so weird! Sounds like a swarm of mosquitos!”
“And that rhythm is way too intense. Is that supposed to be singing or speaking?”
…the students generally reacted with grimaces or laughter.
Her delivery was closer to singing than speaking, and the strained falsetto she used was undeniably comical.
“Oh?”
However, unlike my classmates, I couldn’t laugh it off.
Because I’d actually seen this style of performance before, in my past life.
‘’That’s like the singing in Peking opera!’
In China, it was a traditional form of opera, similar in status to pansori in Korea. Professor Gaby was demonstrating this art form, also known as “Beijing opera,” right in front of our eyes.
An art form I had come across indirectly while watching classic films as a media enthusiast.
Even considering a race with Eastern influences, stumbling upon something so unexpected left me dumbfounded.
“Hehe, quite different from human performances, isn’t it?” Professor Gaby asked, smiling after her demonstration.
She raised her remaining hand to her face, adding casually,
“But that’s not all, folks. When it comes to Elven theater, there’s one more dazzling technique we can’t forget.”
Whoosh—!
The sound echoed through the room, like a piece of crumpled paper being smoothed out.
The students gasped in astonishment.
“Whoa! What was that?!”
“Is that magic? How did you do that?!”
“So cool!”
A colorful mask, seemingly made of paper, had suddenly appeared on Professor Gaby’s face, covering her eyepatch.
But the show wasn’t over yet.
Whoosh—! Snap—! Whoosh—!
“Woah!”
“Incredible! The masks keep changing!”
“Are you using magic, Professor?”
With each subtle touch, the mask transformed. It went from red to yellow, from black to green, as if teleporting between different forms.
Even in a world where magic was real, casting spells was a rare talent.
So, witnessing a clever illusion or a magic trick still had the power to elicit the same reactions from these people as it would from anyone in my past life.
…And watching this, I, too, was struck with such amazement that I was practically petrified.
‘That’s Bian Lian, isn’t it?’
It was a technique used in Sichuan opera, a traditional form of Chinese opera that originated in Sichuan province.
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It was a type of performance where the performer rapidly changed masks, using hidden strings and sleight of hand, without ever touching their face.
Of course, in Professor Gaby’s case, she seemed to be using a bit of actual magic to enhance the effect.
“How is it? Quite the sight, right?”
Professor Gaby said, removing the final mask—a blue one—to reveal her face.
“That’ll be all for today since I promised to end 10 minutes early. Next time, I’ll introduce you to more fascinating and extraordinary Elvish culture. Class dismissed.”
“Woohoo—!!”
“Professor Gaby is the best!”
The students erupted in cheers and applause, praising Professor Gaby as she graciously bowed, much like an actress on stage.
And I, too, joined in the enthusiastic clapping while inwardly rejoicing over a realization that had just struck me.
Professor Gaby’s two demonstrations—both of Eastern origin—had given me the inspiration I’d been looking for.
‘Of course! How could I forget him when talking about action and romance?’
His life story was practically overflowing with idioms and legendary feats — with sayings like “all men are mere subjects under heaven” and “breaking cauldrons and sinking boats,” he had once swept across the Central Plains with his sword alone…
And, unlike his rival, he’d only ever loved one woman, adding a layer of romantic tragedy to his tale.
“…’It is Heaven’s will that I am undone, not due to any fault in my strategy!'”
Mumbling what could be a famous quote, I made sure it was soft enough not to catch the attention of those around me as I got up from my seat.
He was a man who, though defeated, had become an immortal legend through countless retellings and reinterpretations.
And now, it was time to transform the dramatic saga of this legendary figure into a theatrical performance.
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Several hours later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the academy grounds…
Gaby, fresh from a hot bath, stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head and a robe draped over her body.
She walked into the living room of her assigned faculty housing, a cozy little apartment she’d been living in for over a decade.
“Ahhh, that feels good.”
Settling in front of a desk piled with letters, she murmured to herself.
The stack represented all the mail that had arrived for her throughout the day.
Sorting through these and organizing them was her final task for the day.
The mail she received was usually quite predictable — tax notices from the Empire, well-wishes from kin of the World Tree, and even secret confessions of love from several male students smitten with her…
…But the one message she’d been waiting for, for years, never seemed to arrive.
‘That child still hasn’t contacted me.’
She’d once shared a sacred bond with them, but it had been tragically severed.
Once bound by a pledge as master and disciple, their connection, unfortunately, seemed to have faded.
Gaby sighed, massaging her temples as she thought about her former student, the girl who’d left her tutelage after a disagreement.
“Sigh, at the very least, she needs to eat properly. I wonder if she’s taking care of herself.”
The letters she had received today were no different from usual, full of trivial matters to read later. She yawned as she sorted them out.
If the remainder were the same, she planned to head to bed soon.
But at that very moment, a peculiar letter buried in the paper pile caught her attention.
“Hmm?”
It was sealed with a unique red wax stamp shaped like a theatrical mask.
Intrigued by the unfamiliar design, Gaby broke the seal.
And slowly, she began to read its contents…
“A request for consultation from an expert in Elven theater… from the playwright Phantom?”
— End of Chapter —
Trivia :
Bian Lian is an ancient Chinese dramatic art that is part of the more general Sichuan opera. Performers wear brightly colored costumes and move to quick, dramatic music. They also wear vividly colored masks, typically depicting well known characters from the opera, which they change from one face to another almost instantaneously with the swipe of a fan, a movement of the head, or wave of the hand.
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Translator’s Notes :-
Would love for him to introduce “Lord of the Rings” to this world. But if we are going wuxia, then need them uncultured folks on Reverend Insanity ASAP!!!
Need them to witness the greatness of Fang Yuan…
On a side note, blud need to drop Er Gen novels at once… Renegade Immortal x I Shall Seal The Heavens
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