Re-written date: 7 / 13 / 2025
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Chapter 39: A New Film
Hearing the Guild Master's words, Edward was just about to get up and go greet this Northern Territory Adventurer's Guild Master who had apparently already arrived—far sooner than expected. But the moment he stood, the door to the room slowly opened.
A graceful silhouette stepped inside.
She was tall, elegant, and strikingly beautiful, her golden hair shining like a blade under the sunlight. It felt a little cliché to describe her that way—but honestly, it was hard not to. Anyone who saw her would have said the same thing: a stunning woman.
Edward, caught slightly off guard, blinked.
Seeing this, the Southern Territory Adventurer's Guild Master quickly stood and gestured toward her. "Ah, allow me to introduce you. This is Eliza Davis, the Guild Master of the Northern Territory Adventurer's Guild."
At the mention of her name, the woman—Eliza—tilted her head slightly and offered Edward a curious, searching look.
Edward straightened his posture and gave a polite nod. "I'm Edward Durin. The writer and director of KonoSuba."
Upon hearing his introduction, Eliza approached with smooth, confident steps. She gracefully lifted the hem of her skirt in a small curtsy. "It's an honor to meet you, Director Durin. Whether it's your fame as the youngest Grand Mage in the Empire, or as the visionary behind this new medium called 'film'—I find both equally admirable."
Edward wasn't used to being addressed so formally, especially not by someone so clearly powerful. For a guy who usually kept things lighthearted, this sort of attention was a bit much. He fumbled slightly, only managing a reply after a beat.
"I... wasn't expecting the Guild Master of the Northern Territory Adventurer's Guild to be interested in films. If you don't mind me asking, what brings you to the Southern Territory? Surely, you didn't come all this way just to watch a movie?"
Though teleportation spells existed in this world, it wasn't something regular people could afford. The magic circles used for long-distance transport burned through rare reagents and mana at an enormous rate—so much that even most nobles wouldn't dare to use them. Only truly influential individuals, like high-ranking mages or Guild Masters, had the authority and resources to travel this way.
Hearing Edward's question, Eliza chuckled softly, then—completely unexpectedly—sat down on the floor. Not on a cushion or chair. Just the clean wooden floor. Legs crossed, posture relaxed, expression amused.
Edward blinked again, unsure how to react.
Seeing his confusion, Eliza offered a grin. "I can tell. You're not comfortable with formal noble etiquette, are you? Honestly, I don't blame you. I hate it too. I'd rather sit around a campfire with adventurers than sip tea in some stuffy castle while pretending to enjoy pointless gossip."
Edward raised an eyebrow. "Wait... so you really are an adventurer?"
Now that he thought about it, despite her noble appearance, she did give off the presence of someone with real experience—like someone who had stared death in the face more than once.
Eliza nodded with a calm, assured look. "Before I became Guild Master, I was indeed a full-time adventurer. But the North isn't like the South. There, only those who rise through blood and fire—those who survive impossible odds—can even be considered for the position. I was lucky. With my high class ranking and adventurer level, I was chosen to take the role."
Edward's curiosity only grew. "So... what's your class rank?"
She smiled faintly, almost like she was trying not to brag. "Not that impressive, really. Compared to you, achieving Grand Mage while still so young… I took a slower path. Took me over a decade, but I eventually reached the rank of Sword Saint."
Edward and the Southern Territory Adventurer's Guild Master both froze at the same time.
The Sword Saint.
That wasn't a title thrown around lightly.
In the Empire, magic users and warriors each had their own ranking systems. Arch Mage was the sixth tier in the mage path—an apex only a handful had ever reached. For warriors, the sixth tier remained a theoretical ceiling, something no one had yet broken through. As such, the fifth-tier—Sword Saint—was, in practice, the highest possible class a warrior could achieve.
And Eliza was one of them.
That explained a lot. Her poise. Her confidence. Even the ease with which she broke formal etiquette. This woman had absolutely nothing to prove to anyone.
Realizing he was still gawking, Edward finally shook off his stupor and cleared his throat. "So… what's your real reason for coming? I doubt a Sword Saint would burn through a teleportation crystal just for popcorn and comedy."
"Oh, right," Eliza said with a laugh. "Almost forgot."
Eliza's tone shifted slightly, the bright and casual air giving way to a sincere intensity. "I've already watched your movie, Director Durin. And to be honest… It was incredible. The story clearly reflects the style of southern territory adventurers—more relaxed, more comedic—but as a former adventurer myself, it still struck a chord. I actually felt a real urge to pick up my sword again and just… disappear into the wild like I used to."
She paused, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Of course, that has nothing to do with my reason for being here. Originally, I came simply because I was curious about this new technology—'film,' as you call it. But I didn't expect the script to be this good too. You surprised me, Director."
She said it plainly, without any veiled intentions. Her words were direct, honest, and without the layered politeness nobles usually wore like armor. Edward could only smile wryly in return.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied. "But if you're here to ask for the filming techniques themselves, I'm afraid that's a no-go for now. I can't hand out the technology behind movies—at least not until a proper patent system exists in this world. Until then, sharing it would only be a way to create chaos."
Yes, Edward understood all too well what releasing the filming tech—Magic Video Recorders, imaging crystals, and the rest—could do to this world. But that was precisely why he couldn't just hand it over freely. A single innovation might stir ripples, but what he wanted… was a wave.
A revolution.
To shake the foundations of this world, Edward knew he needed more than just tech. He needed structure. A system that would encourage other people—mages, inventors, scholars—to step out from the shadows and stop hoarding their knowledge like sacred scrolls. A world where breakthroughs weren't inherited and locked away, but shared and improved.
A world where even magic could become a science.
That was the future he wanted.
But to his surprise, Eliza immediately waved her hands and shook her head. "No, no, you misunderstood. I don't want the tech. I have no interest in owning the secrets behind it. My reason for coming is much simpler—actually, it's the same as your friend here from the Southern Territory Adventurer's Guild."
She folded her arms and met his gaze with firm determination.
"I want you to make a movie for the Northern Territory too."
Edward blinked.
She continued, her tone heavy with responsibility. "When I first learned about what a film really is—something that turns stories into visual experiences—I was stunned. I never imagined something like this could exist. But when I saw what your movie did for the South, how it brought in new adventurers, boosted morale, and created a sense of unity, I knew I had to act."
Then, her voice darkened a little.
"But the North isn't like the South. Every day, kids from villages arrive at our Guilds, full of dreams and idealism. They want to be heroes. They believe they can take down monsters and make a name for themselves, just like in the stories. But the North is… cruel."
She clenched her fist.
"Even the weakest monsters up there—goblins—are deadly. If a new adventurer doesn't have someone experienced guiding them, odds are they won't survive their first week. We've always tried to teach caution, to give them proper training, and to warn them what they're walking into."
She exhaled slowly.
"But recently, we've been overwhelmed by a flood of new recruits. And do you know why? Trashy novels. Poorly-researched adventurer fiction from the Capital has been spreading like wildfire. Filled with flashy heroics and impossible power-ups. No depth. No realism. Just fantasy. And now…"
Edward nodded grimly. He could see where this was going.
"They don't listen anymore," Eliza said quietly. "Our warnings? They mock them. Our training sessions? They skip them. They think we're just old cynics trying to hold them back. And before we can stop them, they form little groups and head out into the wilds on their own. Most of them don't come back."
The room was silent for a long moment.
"New adventurer deaths have skyrocketed," she finally said. "We can't legally stop them from accepting requests. And compared to flashy novels, our posters and speeches don't stand a chance."
Edward narrowed his eyes. "So you want a movie that shows the truth."
Eliza nodded. "Yes. I want reality. Not the warm, funny South where the biggest threat is a slime in your shoe. I want you to show the North. Show the cold. The monsters. The blood. The fear. Show the price that comes with becoming an adventurer in the North."
Her voice trembled, just slightly. It wasn't fear—it was passion.
"I want you to make a film that slaps these kids awake before it's too late. Something they can't ignore. Something even the most stubborn dreamer can't watch without feeling the weight of what it means to really risk your life."