Chapter: 92
The Imperial Central Library was now fully open to the public.
And, I had gained access rights to the ‘Imperial Archives.’
These were the two things I had after the banquet. Thanks to losing the bet, the public access to the ‘Imperial Archives’ was off the table, but they had granted me personal access to Homeros’ own library. It was a bittersweet victory.
“This place is the Imperial Archives…?”
“This is the oldest library containing the history of the Empire. Just a heads up, some of the books are in pretty rough shape, so be careful.”
The smell of paper. Not just the scent of old paper and parchment, but the very scent of an ancient library where even the bookshelves holding them had soaked in the years and now emitted a distinct aroma.
There was something about the old, dusty vibe of the Imperial Archives that was totally thrilling to a book lover like me. How could you call yourself a book lover if the smell of an old library doesn’t send chills down your spine?
The magically climate-controlled libraries of the Kapeter Territory weren’t bad, but…
The atmosphere of being buried in books like this? It had a vibe that moved the heart—totally unrelated to practicality or usefulness, it existed solely in the realm of feelings.
Feeling grateful to the Emperor for granting me access to the Imperial Archives, I shouted, “Hooray!”
“Long live the Emperor, the Sun of the Empire! May you live forever!”
“…….”
The guide next to me who was showing us around gave me a look like I just announced I’m running for president, making things a bit awkward.
Hmm.
Anyway, long live the Emperor!
.
.
.
“Young Master, you’re back?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’ll prepare a bath for you.”
“Oh, okay.”
After a week in the Imperial Archives, I returned home to find Sion waiting to take my luggage as if it were a daily routine.
Spending nights in the library has become my new normal, so much so that they even set up a lounge in the Homeros Central Library… and here I am again.
“Did you enjoy reading?”
“Yeah. There are things in there I can’t read anywhere else, like classified stuff about the Imperial family, preserved diplomatic documents… and it’s fascinating to see how expressions and rhetoric used by the Empire have evolved over time.”
A thousand-year-old empire. The greatest nation ruling about half the world.
The imperial family reigning over the Millennial Empire.
So many emperors had risen to the highest point in that empire. The People’s King, who handed all power over to Parliament; the Order King, who laid down the roots of constitutional monarchy; the Pious King, who made the church the state religion; the Dignity King, often hailed as the greatest emperor; and the Victory King, who put an end to the Hundred Years’ War…
The more you dig into history, the more you discover stories that clash with public perception.
Despite his nickname and achievements, the People’s King was obsessed with power. The Order King despised the intricate rules of the court. The Pious King turned out to be a cold fish who never even showed up for Sunday mass. And the Victory King? A total wimp who couldn’t even swat a fly! Seriously, the discrepancies were astounding.
The insight into these characters stemmed from the time when the Empire was referred to as a “kingdom” instead… like the records of the “Wasteland King” or “Binding King.”
[A king who inherited a measly little piece of land. The Binding King made a pact with the first black mage, the “Transcendent of Chaos.” In exchange for ruling the biggest territory, he forfeited control over his own fate in a totally unfair deal—giving up his rights to the world while claiming the world’s rights for himself.]
[The Binding King was very pleased with this arrangement.]
[He thought, “If I can have everything in this world, I can easily give up something so abstract as ‘fate.’]
[After this oath, the Binding King expanded his territory with countless bilateral agreements, marriage deals, wars, and conquests.]
[And, exactly one day before the ‘New Declaration’ that marked the empire’s transition to “empire,” the Binding King died in his 6’11” bed, never seeing it come to fruition.]
A deal to gain power over the world but lose control over one’s own fate.
The Empire was built on such a contract with the world.
This contract was so strong that even the Pious King sharing power with the Church, the Order King restricting authority through laws, or the People’s King handing over power to the populace couldn’t undo it. Only the Dignity King figured out how to turn this agreement to his advantage.
“Zion.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“What do you think would happen if you became Emperor of the Empire, got to rule the world, but couldn’t do the things you wanted?”
“You mean, the things you want to do?”
“Yeah. Just look at me… I succeed at everything, except my literary revival project flops. People sing my praises, call me the greatest emperor, treasure piles up in the vaults… but the literary market just withers and dies.”
“Is that how it is? Hmmm.”
Zion pondered for a moment, resting his chin on his hand, before nodding thoughtfully.
“I think I would feel the same way as you.”
“Huh?”
“In the past, I might have been dazzled by such ‘success,’ but I’ve sworn an oath before Heaven to support your dreams. Knowing that the future you envision sparkles brighter than any treasure, I won’t waver in the face of worldly powers. Even if the empire must fall, even if you have to be hated by everyone, I will stand by you.”
“…Wait, you’re saying supporting me is what you want to do?”
“There are people out there who find more happiness in cheering for someone who’s chasing their dreams. I’m pretty sure I’m one of them.”
“Well, that’s… something.”
I paused to mull over Zion’s answer before suddenly feeling a weird disconnect and had to ask again.
“Uh, but when you say you’re like me, does that mean you totally think I’m going to pick ‘literature’ over ‘success’?”
“Yes.”
Hmm.
“Right.”
I don’t really see myself prioritizing anything over ‘literature.’
An old memory resurfaced.
– “Senior, isn’t it really heartless to read while chatting with your lovely girlfriend?”
– “Oh, my bad. This is the first official translation of this novel in Korea, so…”
– “What’s more important, me or the novel?”
– “You, obviously…”
– “I’m totally going to be mad if you say it’s the novel.”
– “…Both are important.”
– “Ugh, how did I end up liking someone like this?”
– “I know, right?”
I wonder what that junior is up to now.
Still translating, maybe? I had a backlog of translations piled up for him—poor guy would have a tough time getting through them all.
The remaining ones are lesser-known books, quite the challenge to translate with hardly any reference materials available.
Come to think of it, I think I dreamed about him the other day…
“Sigh, on second thought, living in this world where literature hasn’t fully bloomed yet is a sort of luck, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“No, um. I think my wish came true, and that’s the real deal.”
In my past life, I wished to live in a ‘book-centered society’. I wanted to thrive where literature never dies, isn’t discarded as outdated, but lives and breathes and captures hearts.
Turns out that wish came through.
When I was reborn into this world where knightly literature was the only good read, I was in despair… But now, everyone walks around with books in their bags, reading and writing!
Now, this world can’t hold itself together without ‘literature.’
Countless new works pop up every year, and all culture and welfare are tightly linked to this ‘publishing cycle.’
My role now? Just a little push here and there.
“Let’s head to the vault, Zion.”
“Yes.”
.
.
.
[A priest cast a spell on this monkey’s hand. He was a very devout man, and wanted to show how fate governs our lives, and what grief it brings to those who disturb it.]
.
.
.
Not long after the Empire’s “New Millennium Banquet,” Homeros’ new short story was published.
The title was so simple it almost spoiled the story inside.
The Monkey’s Paw.
People reading that title probably thought that Homeros’ new work was going to be an allegorical fairy tale about a ‘monkey’—and naturally, the first buyers of this novel were the readers that adored Homeros’ ‘fairy tales’. You know, those overly sensitive people who cherish light-hearted novels.
And then…
“Heeeeeeeee!!!”
“This is a horror story!”
“So what happened to the son in the end?! Eek….”
The story ‘Monkey’s Paw’ turned out to be a horror tale in the form of a ghost story.
Readers not accustomed to horror literature trembled at the yuckiness and gloomy turns of the story.
Even those who didn’t give much of a reaction while reading would jump at nighttime knocks outside the window or the rustling of the wind!
Thanks to this, The Monkey’s Paw became an explosive hit almost instantly after its release.
“This thing called the Monkey’s Paw—so bizarre and interesting!”
“It twists wishes in a super weird way… Fascinating!”
Some folks were inspired by the oddity of the ‘ghost story,’ while others were mesmerized by the impactful symbolism of the ‘monkey’s paw.’
This craze even led newspapers featuring short stories to be splashed with ‘horror stories!’
“Ugh! Why is there such a scary story in the newspaper?!”
“Tsk, tsk. You get scared over that? …By the way, where’s the restroom? Would you mind guiding me there? It’s not because I’m scared or anything, I’m just a bit lost here.”
So, horror novels were ruling the Empire!
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