How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World

The concert hall was filled with silence for a while after I dropped the tactical nuke from the start. I savored that silence with a smile. Thanks to Cecily’s voice amplification magic, there wouldn’t be a single person who didn’t hear me.

Therefore, everyone must have heard that I am Xenon, the author of Xenon’s Biography. It’s not strange that there’s no immediate reaction, just quietness. It’s hard to believe right away. Unlike during the trial, there was no buildup, I revealed it straight away.

Because of this, they would be more bewildered than surprised. Even with Count Kamar’s testimony, my appearance is far from what they imagined Xenon to be. It was because of a preconceived notion. The world had freely built countless images of Xenon, but most of them directly linked to a ‘sage.’

Naturally, a sage is expected to be an old man with more knowledge and experience than others. Certainly not a fresh young man like me. Over time, various speculations, such as being a regressor or a prophet, floated around, but the image of the sage never disappeared.

“…Is it true? Is that man really Xenon?”

“He seems to have sent a representative. Or not?”

“He has red hair and golden eyes, but… so does Baron Michelle.”

“Is he really that young?”

As expected, the reactions unfolded as predicted. The people sitting on the first floor, mostly commoners, accepted it more readily, but the nobles on the second floor were skeptical. It’s only natural that they doubt I’m Xenon. It would be strange if they didn’t.

That’s why I had asked Kate for help in such a scenario. As the murmuring in the hall grew louder, I maintained my smile and spoke.

“I’m sure it’s difficult for everyone to believe my words. I understand your feelings. Therefore, I asked a special guest to help. Cardinal Kate?”

At my call, Kate, who had been hiding behind the stage curtain, gradually revealed herself. Her appearance instantly silenced the murmuring.

Her very presence radiated a divine aura, and her radiant appearance shone brilliantly. As everyone’s attention focused on her, Kate walked gracefully to my side and gave a slight nod. Then, she turned forward, gently clasping her hands together, and began her work.

“Light.”

Unlike other clerics, her incantation was simple. However, because it was Kate, even that one word carried immense power.

Phaaat!

With that word, a burst of golden light erupted, a display of Kate’s radiant holy power, incomparable to what I had seen backstage. Ordinary clerics’ holy power is white, but those with exceptionally deep faith like Kate have a golden glow.

I’ve heard that even cardinals find it difficult to emit a golden light as dazzling as Kate’s. In terms of holy power alone, she is nearly as powerful as the Pope.

As I and the others quietly observed, Kate gathered her holy power and proceeded to the next step.

“Bless this place!”

With arms wide open, Kate released the golden light she had gathered. The already bright concert hall seemed to grow even brighter as the golden light spread. It wasn’t just an impression, it actually brightened.

The light she dispersed seeped into the ceiling and every corner of the building, like fireflies delicately lighting up the grass, like a Christmas tree glowing in various colors.

It was a declaration of sanctuary, something only a few clerics with pure faith could achieve. The spectacle was unparalleled, like something out of a fantasy world, and it was a scene that would remain vividly in memory.

“It is done.”

“Oh… it’s finished?”

“Yes.”

Kate’s words brought me back to reality, otherwise, I might have forgotten that I was standing on stage. I thanked her and turned to face the audience.

The audience, like me, was admiring the golden light that adorned every corner of the concert hall. Even without understanding the power behind it, the sheer beauty of the phenomenon was like an art piece, evoking natural awe.

“What Cardinal Kate just did is simple. It temporarily turns this building into something akin to a temple.”

“This place is like a temple now?”

“Is that even possible?”

“If it’s Cardinal Kate, maybe…”

Reactions were polarized here as well. Some, including the nobles, were astonished, while the majority, including commoners, simply accepted it. This disparity likely stems more from differing levels of interest rather than education.

Even I don’t fully grasp the difficulty of what Kate did, so I just think it’s impressive.

With the declaration of the sanctuary completed, I looked around at the now murmuring audience and began to speak again. I made sure to project my voice with enough power to keep their focus.

“Therefore, I declare here that I will never lie from now on. If I do lie, the gods themselves will punish me. Will you believe my words now?”

“… …”

Experiencing something so extraordinary left the audience in stunned silence. Silence often implies agreement, and considering it was Cardinal Kate who declared the sanctuary, they had no choice but to believe.

With the groundwork perfectly laid, I scanned the eyes fixed on me. There were familiar faces, but also many I wasn’t particularly pleased to see. Most, however, were strangers. These people would now learn the truth I had hidden for so long. Feeling a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety, I took a deep breath.

Even a simple public announcement made me this nervous. How do those who perform on stage handle such tension? I found myself newly admiring stage performers and artists.

‘This is the end of it.’

Hiding my identity had brought countless benefits. For one, it kept me safe from unknown threats, including devil worshippers. But those benefits end today. As Cecily mentioned in her speech, a bird is not born to die in a cage.

With that thought, I prepared to reveal the truth to the gathered audience, feeling a sense of closure and a readiness to embrace whatever comes next.

The future is bound to be filled with many challenges and surprises, but as long as I can foresee and prepare for them, there should be no problems. I looked around the audience once more and spoke in a quiet yet firm voice.

“Many of you must be surprised. Wasn’t Xenon supposed to be an elderly sage? Or someone who returned from the future or a prophet? Wouldn’t that make him more of a cleric?”

Indeed, among the countless speculations, the image of a sage was the most prevalent, followed by that of a cleric. It is common knowledge that unless one has deep faith and direct help from the gods, prophecy is impossible.

However, contrary to everyone’s expectations, I revealed myself as a very ordinary noble. My father’s remarkable history aside, that is an exception.

“Not at all. I am neither a sage nor a person from the future or a prophet. The work ‘Xenon’s Biography’ came solely from my imagination. Please keep that in mind. I am not as extraordinary as you might think.”

This is not humility, it’s the truth. I’m not extraordinary, except for the vivid memories of my past life. I didn’t mention that, though, as it would inevitably lead to the belief that I received divine blessings. The gods would likely understand and overlook this omission to prevent confusion.

Next, I needed to address how I knew about the various ‘this-why-this’ events. Starting with the contamination of the World Tree’s roots, which was the origin of these incidents. I turned my head in another direction at the thought of that event.

There sat Arwen, looking demure. When our eyes met, she flinched slightly, then smiled shyly and bowed her head. Arwen, who had always struck me as cute, seemed even more so today. There was no trace of her queenly dignity, just a bashful young girl.

“Some of you might wonder, ‘How did he know about the contamination of the World Tree’s roots and the devil worshippers?’ The truth is, both can be somewhat inferred by delving a bit deeper into history and mythology. The devils drove this world to the brink of destruction, but thanks to the World Tree gifted by Goddess Harte, they were repelled. In other words, the World Tree is the divine treasure that devils would aim to destroy first. While the direct investigation revealed that the contamination was a remnant of the devil war, do you think the devils would have left it untouched?”

“… …”

“Absolutely not. As for the devil worshippers… I believe our complacency and dulled judgment during times of peace played a larger role than history itself. The devil war is not just a myth but an actual event that happened in the past. History tends to repeat itself, yet we chose to forget it.”

Even if you don’t know about the World Tree, the issue of devil worshippers would have been noticed if you had paid a little attention. It’s just that the cunningness of devil worshippers, which has continued for hundreds of years, has covered it all up.

As we saw with the incident of the fallen cardinal, it’s no exaggeration to say that devil worshippers already dominate the entire underworld. Although Cardinal Bach has died and Xavier has proclaimed a holy war, steadily sweeping them up, the reality is that it’s still far from enough.

“Other incidents are similar, but some parts are truly coincidental. Like the forbidden elf magic of fusion, or the Helium’s death squad Reaper, and so on. Honestly… there’s nothing more to say. It all just came from my mind.”

Some of the coincidences were too implausible to fabricate, so they could only be dismissed as coincidences. Still, it seems to be believed because a sanctuary has been declared. 𝖋𝔯𝖊𝖊𝖜𝔢𝖇𝔫𝖔𝔳𝔢𝖑.𝖈𝔬𝖒

Honestly, if the sanctuary hadn’t been declared, most people wouldn’t have believed it. Each of these coincidences is an event that could shake the foundation of the country, so who would believe it’s just a coincidence?

“It’s the same with the demons. I’ve only heard about what kind of people demons are, I’ve never met them personally. Therefore, I had no preconceptions and could write stories like Sakran. Above all, if demons were truly evil, they would have drawn their swords long ago. But demons, despite being persecuted by everyone, endured and strived to see the light. I really liked this aspect, so I wrote such a story. There is no other reason. Those who strive to achieve light are beautiful in their existence and will.”

I didn’t forget to praise the demons. Cecily clasps her hands tightly and looks at me with a blissful expression at my praise.

Though it’s a slightly burdensome gaze, it’s okay since she is happy. In reality, demons are such a race, so it’s not a lie.

“Then many people will wonder. Why did you write Xenon’s Biography? What was your purpose in writing such a work?”

“… …”

“I will say it here. Xenon’s Biography started purely as a hobby. I had no intention of spreading any particular ideology or theory, nor did I seek fame. I just started writing with the hope that everyone here would enjoy it.”

As everyone knows, Xenon’s Biography started purely as a hobby.

Enduring the physical onslaught of beloved partners has become half a duty, but the essence itself hasn’t changed. Of course, the first work I wrote upon being reincarnated holds significant meaning. Completing it would be both refreshing and bittersweet, yet liberating.

“So I hope you all read Xenon’s Biography with joy. It’s quite alarming that incidents from Xenon’s Biography occur in reality, but I hope you don’t feel afraid because of that. I don’t want anything but for you to enjoy it.”

This is the unvarnished truth. Whenever Xenon’s Biography is released, people look forward more to what incidents will occur rather than the story itself. As a writer, it’s an ambiguous situation whether to like it or not, but it’s equally uncomfortable. Attention is diverted to strange places rather than praises for the work.

It’s certainly good that Xenon’s Biography helped save the world from crises. But treating it like a sacred text is burdensome for me. Above all, seeing cases like Cecily’s devilization, where non-existent events are created, even I have become fearful.

“Some people might think after hearing me: If you’re so scared, why don’t you just stop writing? If the current situation is burdensome, why not put down the pen?”

Indeed, I had such thoughts at times. Focusing on history and becoming a scholar rather than a writer wasn’t a bad idea. However, that thought didn’t last long and was thrown in the trash. Why?

“Everyone, I love writing.”

I love writing stories.

“I like showing my writings to you all and having you read them.”

I want many people to see the stories in my imagination.

This innate writer’s spirit, which existed even in my previous life, hasn’t changed even after being reincarnated.

“Calling my writing a prophecy or a scripture is fine. What I want is simple: for you to truly enjoy reading my stories. Creating a common culture that transcends gender, race, and class. Writing stories that everyone can enjoy, as seen at the exhibition.”

“… …”

“That alone satisfies me. I don’t need fame, ideology, power, or wealth. Just your reactions to my writing fill me up.”

The reason I didn’t put down my pen despite feeling burdened: because countless people, including those present here, are reading my stories.

For the sake of those people, I will never put down my pen. Even if someone threatens me to stop writing, I won’t succumb, and even if my hands are cut off, I will use my mouth or feet to write.

My resolute and modest determination seemed to be conveyed, as no one voiced any objections. That’s because they must have realized that I have no selfish desires.

As I glanced around the room filled with golden light, I smiled gently. Now, there’s only one thing left to do.

“Once again, let me introduce myself. My name is Isaac Ducker Michelle.”

My name is Isaac Ducker Michelle.

“In this world.”

In this fantasy world.

“I’m the writer who writes about things that could happen in this world.”

Writing fantasy novels.

“The author of Xenon’s Biography, I am Xenon.”

An ordinary writer.

“I will continue to work hard and write.”

Translators note:

For some reason this chapter made me feel emotional…