Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 773 - 772: New-Style Drama

After confirming that there were only a pile of ancient magical device components and Crystal Array on the stage, Earl Balin believed he had grasped the essence of this so-called ”new-style theater.”

It’s not a sophisticated new technology, but he still had to praise it; it was a remarkable idea.

Record the traditional drama on Memory Crystals, and then use the reproducible and wide-range broadcast features of the Magic Web Terminal to turn a scene of drama into a replicable and continuously recreated ”commodity.” The cheap ancient magical device reduced the cost of this ”theater” to an incredible level, yet its effectiveness remained uncompromised.

Therefore, there emerged such a fairly ”mass-oriented” theater, with tickets originally priced at only six Ayr, allowing ordinary citizens to casually watch the ”new-style theater.”

Undoubtedly, this aligns with King Gawain Cecil’s advocacy of the ”new order,” which conforms to the two core principles: ”technology serving the public” and ”mass production as the foundation.”

No wonder this received strong support from the Administrative Office, leading to its grand promotion in the imperial capital.

Earl Balin could discern these things, and so could most others present—those around Victoria Wilder were not fools, and during their operation of the Administrative Office in the Old Capital, they encountered many cases related to Magic Guide Technology. At least, from a comprehension and association ability standpoint, they could easily conjecture how this new-style theater was realized—the technology itself wasn’t surprising, but they still appreciated whoever thought of this good idea: in an era of rapid development, having a good idea is itself an admirable ability.

Having understood these things, Earl Balin adjusted his posture in the chair, preparing to watch the content that would soon be presented on stage from a relatively comfortable angle—the surroundings were crowded with people, the seats were not spacious, nor were there high-class servants to provide services, with no sweet snacks or private balconies for leisure. It wasn’t a comfortable viewing environment, but it could become a novel and interesting experience.

And shortly after he settled his posture, a bell sound came from an unknown source.

Lights arose on the stage.

The previously rowdy hall quieted down, as those entering the ”theater” for the first time brought with them expectations, nervousness, and curiosity. They watched the Crystal Array on stage light up one by one in the glow of magic, and then the holographic projection rose from the air.

Many understood this was similar to the Magic Web Terminal playing programs on the streets, but that didn’t affect their intense gaze at the content appearing in the projection—

Following a brief advertisement introducing the Kode’s Household Affairs Company, indicating it as one of the investors in this drama, the Magic Shadow Drama began its opening. The first scene seen by everyone depicted a disorderly street and a group of children running and playing between mud and sand.

There were no castles, no Knights, no Princesses touring among the commoners, nor gardens and fountains overlooking from manor balconies.

Only one after another, characters living in common neighborhoods, walking through alleys, striving to maintain their livelihoods appeared.

Earl Balin frowned slightly in confusion, as did several others beside him.

Victoria Wilder simply watched everything silently and impassively.

The camera moved through those crisscrossing slums, passing through crowds who haggled loudly, worked diligently, cried, and laughed. It felt less like a staged performance and more like a pair of eyes crossing through an old city—which didn’t exist but felt incredibly real. It candidly displayed things that appeared unfamiliar to Earl Balin but were very familiar to most in the hall.

It was the place they once lived, their former neighbors—and their former selves.

...

In a room adjoining the screening hall, Gawain sat beside a monitor displaying the same scene as the ”stage.” Around him, the room was filled with various ancient magical device. Several Mage Technicians were intently watching those devices to ensure the smooth operation of this first screening.

Gawain withdrew his gaze from the monitor.

He had already watched the entire Magic Shadow Drama in advance, and to be honest, the drama was quite simple to him.

It merely recounted the story of several young people living in the North, faced with difficult lives and uncertain futures, and the outbreak of Northern War forced them to sell their belongings and leave their homeland with family, boarding a mechanical ship to cross half the country for a new life in the South.

Intermixed with this are the kaleidoscope of humanity aboard the immigrant ship, narrating a series of small characters’ experiences—

A taciturn clockmaker, ostracized and exiled for his solitary personality, yet finding a new home in the Southern factory; an elderly couple, separated from their only son during the war, initially planned to seek refuge with relatives but mistakenly boarded the immigrant ship, only to discover as they disembarked that the ”gear oddball” always staying in the ship’s hold was their son who had lost his memory during the war; a destitute mercenary fleeing vendettas, steals a ticket to board the ship, throughout pretending to be a respectable Knight, but while passing a war zone block, bravely steps up to negotiate with those officers trying to board to plunder in the guise of inspection, protecting a pair of siblings aboard lacking travel permits...

In this Magic Shadow Drama, Philem and his friends pursued no sensational court intrigue or empty preachy metaphors; their only goal was to tell a good story.

To make it seem as if it could truly take place around them.

”Its plot isn’t complex,” Gawain turned, looking at Philem standing nearby, visibly nervous and restless, ”simple and easy to understand.”

”Yes, yes, Your Majesty,” Philem said anxiously, ”It...is indeed a bit simple...”

Gawain chuckled and shook his head: ”No, I’m not nitpicking. On the contrary, I think this is just right. The first Magic Shadow Drama, it needs to be simple and easy to understand.”

This wasn’t to console Philem, but rather it was his sincere thought.

Gawain lacked neither horror, nor intriguing, nor complex storytelling ideas. In this era of mental entertainment scarcity, he could easily devise countless stories surpassing contemporary dramas in plot structure, suspense setting, world background, etc. But as a script for the first Magic Shadow Drama, those might not be suitable.

The first Magic Shadow Drama was meant for the public, and most of those viewers, throughout their entire past lives, hadn’t even seen the simplest theater.

If the story is too complex and bizarre, they might not comprehend it; if the story is too detached from their life, they might not engage; if the story is too rich in meaning or deep in metaphor, they might even find ”Magic Shadow Drama” to be something incredibly dull, keeping their distance from it, making it difficult to further promote.

In Gawain’s view, having a ”local” write a story for ”locals” was far more suitable than him rummaging through his mind for a few inter-world legends—even the latter would require painstaking adjustment to fit local world views, and once adjusted, may not even capture public interest.

”To be honest, there are many things in this story that I learned for the first time,” beside Philem, Elywen said with a slightly shy smile, ”Father was right, I should come out to see the world and learn.”

While speaking, the heir of the West glanced at his friend beside him, with a hint of curiosity on his face: ”Fendil, what’s wrong with you? Why do you seem so uneasy since earlier?”

”I...it’s nothing, probably just an illusion,” said Fendil, who was tall with silver short hair and had a sunny demeanor, yet looked somewhat tense and worried. He smiled and shook his head, ”I’ve had a bad feeling since earlier, as if trouble is looming.”

Philem instantly became nervous: ”Are you saying there will be a problem with today’s ’premiere’?”

Powerful Transcendents often possess a certain ”intuitive premonition” that ordinary people find difficult to understand. Philem didn’t fully grasp it but thought such intuition might be akin to ”prophecy,” so upon hearing Fendil’s words, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat anxious.

”No, it’s not that,” Fendil quickly waved his hand to his friend, ”Be confident, Philem, your work is excellent—look at Amber’s expression, she clearly likes the Shadow Drama.”

Beside the monitor, Amber was watching the holographic projection intently, seemingly fully immersed. Yet after Fendil’s words landed, her ears twitched a bit, and she spoke without turning her head: ”It’s indeed good—at least some details are pretty realistic. That mercenary who stole the boat ticket—though his method was crude, it was quite deliberate. Did you specifically get guidance for this?”

”We made several trips to the Security Bureau for that,” Philem said a bit shyly, lowering his head, ”The actor playing the mercenary was actually a thief...I mean, he used to be a thief.”

”Not bad,” Gawain laughed, ”I mean your serious attitude is commendable.”

While speaking, he turned his head, as if his gaze penetrated the wall, looking in the direction of the adjacent screening room.

Not only was Philem and others’ attitude towards creating the Shadow Drama commendable.

Fendil’s intuition...seemed quite commendable too.

...

During the screening that lasted over two hours, the hall remained very quiet.

This was quite incredible for a group of commoners entering the theater for the first time, and for Earl Balin and others sitting alongside so many commoners for the first time.

Midway through the Shadow Drama, Earl Balin realized something: aside from being the background on screen, castles, manors, and palaces wouldn’t really appear.

Aside from those mercenaries masquerading as knights and a few villainous Old Aristocratic knights, ”knights” truly wouldn’t appear.

Narrative poems, hero soliloquies, priests symbolizing gods, and philosophers symbolizing wise aristocrats, these wouldn’t appear either.

The story wasn’t complex, and at least in Earl Balin’s view—it wasn’t very interesting.

Most things in the story were hard for this aristocrat from the royal capital to relate to, understand, or resonate with.

But he still watched the entire story earnestly and noticed that everyone in the hall seemed completely immersed in the ”Shadow Drama” story.

As the story neared the end, the ”Highlanders” ship that endured trials and escaped war blockades while overcoming non-human monsters and mechanical faults finally arrived safely at the southern port city. Audience members were pleasantly surprised to find a very familiar figure had appeared in the Shadow Drama’s scene—the well-loved Miss Witch cameoed as an immigration officer, while the renowned merchant Mr. Kode, owner of Kode Household Affairs Company, also played a guide on the dock.

The ending method of the whole story was novel: after the words ”several years later” flashed across the screen, what appeared were immigrants who had settled in the southern region. They narrated their experiences on the ship and in starting life in a new homeland in retrospective manner. The final scene in the Shadow Drama was a collage of dozens of cut-out frames with dozens of characters speaking the last line of dialogue in unison in the projection:

”Yes, this is how we began our new life.”

The screen gradually dimmed, and the list of actors began to emerge on the holographic projection.

Earl Balin breathed a sigh of relief, preparing to rise, when a soft voice suddenly came from the seat behind him:

”Yes, this is how we began our new life...”

Earl Balin was momentarily stunned, not yet turning to follow the sound, when more voices echoed nearby:

”Yes, this is how we began our new life...”

Many were still looking at the now darkened Crystal Array direction, many softly repeating that last line of dialogue.

In this city, ninety-nine percent of people were immigrants, or refugees and nomads.

They had experienced all in the story—leaving home, long journeys, taking root in foreign lands, working, building their own houses, farming their own land...

No story can move those sitting here like ”Immigrants.”

Gradually, finally there was applause, growing louder and louder, until it echoed throughout the entire hall.

Amid the applause surrounding him, Earl Balin suddenly heard Victoria Wilder’s voice in his ear:

”They come here to see others’ stories, but in the story they saw themselves.

”Mr. Balin, what do you think of this story?”