Re-written date: 7 / 13 / 2025
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Chapter 40: A Film That Swept the South
Edward was momentarily stunned by Eliza's request.
He hadn't expected her to bring up something like this, at least not now. If it had been something beyond his ability, he might've been able to politely refuse. But the problem was—he could do it. In fact, the idea for such a movie was already taking shape in the back of his mind.
Still, even knowing he was capable, there was a catch.
"KonoSuba"—the movie currently playing at the Nosrick Cinema—was still in the middle of its first run. Not only that, but production for its serialized "TV" version was already planned for the winter. Starting a new film project now, especially one with such a different tone, would mean diverting resources, time, and energy he couldn't easily spare.
Perhaps noticing the hesitation on his face, Eliza stepped forward, her voice lowering with urgency.
"I understand I'm asking a lot," she said. "And I know this request is sudden… but I wouldn't have come all this way if it weren't important. This affects the lives of countless young adventurers. If you agree to help, Director Durin, I'm willing to offer anything within my power as the Northern Territory Adventurer's Guild Master in return."
Her expression was calm, but the weight of her words was clear. This wasn't just a favor—it was a desperate call for help.
Edward stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.
Finally, he nodded. "Well, the TV version of KonoSuba won't start shooting until winter. I've got a few months of breathing room. I think I can fit a second film in that gap."
"Really?!" Eliza lit up instantly.
Edward scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. I already have a rough idea for the story. The only thing I'm missing is the cast. Right now, I don't have nearly enough actors for something that intense. Would I be allowed to scout talent from your Northern Territory Adventurer's Guild?"
"Absolutely," Eliza answered without hesitation. "Once the script is ready, I'll have the Guild organize the candidates for you."
With that issue resolved, Edward relaxed a little.
"I'll start working on the script immediately. Can you stay in Nosrick City for a few more days? Once the first draft is finished, I'd like to head north with you to scout filming locations and begin auditions."
Eliza nodded. "Of course. The Guild can manage just fine without me for a little while."
Though she spoke as if it were nothing, the Southern Territory Adventurer's Guild Master—who had remained silent until now—couldn't help but give her a complicated look.
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In the days that followed, the influence of KonoSuba exploded across the entire southern territory.
In Nosrick City, it had already reached a point where not knowing about "the movie" was considered embarrassing. But now, thanks to passing merchants and wandering bards, that same fever had begun spreading beyond the city walls like wildfire.
Merchants who had been lucky enough to catch a screening wore their experience like a badge of honor. They plastered their carriages with cinema flyers and eagerly bragged about it at every stop, drawing crowds who listened with a mixture of awe and jealousy.
People from outside Nosrick City, who had only heard of the film secondhand, grew increasingly desperate. Some were willing to offer ridiculous sums just for a ticket. Others began seriously considering paying for a teleportation spell scroll to make the trip—an absurd expense, but one they'd gladly make just to see what all the fuss was about.
Within just a few days, KonoSuba had gone from a novelty to a cultural phenomenon. It wasn't just a movie anymore—it was the thing to talk about.
In taverns, young adventurers argued over their favorite scenes. On the streets, mages could be seen sneakily attempting to cast fireball spells, inspired by the ridiculous "Explosion" magic from the film. Merchants launched a whole new category of products, reproducing gear, trinkets, and props seen on screen.
Fashion shops began selling imitation versions of the characters' costumes. Some were clearly cheap knockoffs, others surprisingly accurate. It didn't matter—everyone wanted to wear something from the movie.
Without anyone formally introducing the concept, an entire wave of "movie merchandise" had spontaneously emerged. The world was learning what a "fandom" looked like.
And perhaps no one benefited more than Lawrence's Monster Emporium.
Previously on the verge of bankruptcy, Lawrence now found his store overrun with eager customers. Slimes, tiny wolves, horned rabbits—creatures that once sat in his shop unsold were now flying off the shelves. Customers fought over them like food at a starving army's mess hall.
The demand was overwhelming. His beloved magical pets, raised with care, were gone in a matter of days.
It left Lawrence feeling strangely conflicted—torn between the joy of success and the pain of saying goodbye.
But compared to the quiet collapse his business had nearly faced a few months ago… he could live with it.
Quite happily, in fact.
All in all, the rise of movies—as a completely new form of entertainment—had begun to spread like wildfire throughout the land. With KonoSuba serving as the spark, it swept through towns and cities like a highly contagious fever. It didn't matter if someone was curious or disinterested; just being in the vicinity of others who had seen a movie was enough to pull them in. It was as if the entire territory had become magnetized by this strange new phenomenon.
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A carriage slowly rolled into the streets of Nosrick.
Inside sat a young girl dressed in the robes of a nun, her golden hair catching the filtered sunlight through the carriage window. Her clear, jewel-bright eyes scanned the scenery outside with open curiosity. The bustling city was filled with life, and—just as she had expected—movie talk was everywhere.
"You saw KonoSuba yesterday, right? Let's go again tonight!"
"Come on, that'll be your third time! Don't you get tired of lining up for tickets?"
"The cinema just expanded, so it's not that hard to get in anymore! Besides, the story's hilarious—and those girls are adorable! I could watch it ten more times and still not get bored!"
These kinds of conversations weren't new to her. Ever since arriving in the southern territory, the same chatter had followed her from one town to another. Wherever she went, one thing was constant—people were talking about KonoSuba and this thing called a "movie."
It was... odd.
This was an experience completely foreign to her.
As the only daughter of the Southern Territory Grand Duke Daphne had always lived a life that was both simple and incredibly complex. It was simple in the sense that, as a noble, everything was provided for her—structured, orderly, predictable. But it was also complex because every part of that life came with invisible strings. Rules. Politics. Etiquette. Expectations.
Even her training as a magic-user had been dry and rigid. The colors of her life were muted, dulled by endless repetition and controlled schedules.
So when her sixteenth birthday came around, Daphne had made a decision.
With the help of a few trusted guards, she slipped out of the Grand Duke's castle—just once—to see the outside world for herself. And to her delight, it had been every bit as dazzling as she'd imagined. Each day brought something new, something exciting, and she was seeing the world not through court documents or lessons, but with her own eyes.
That's when she first heard about movies.
At first, she had written them off without a second thought.
In her mind, a "movie" sounded like a different kind of opera—another one of those overly dramatic, drawn-out performances filled with long monologues and overacted emotions. Being raised in a palace, she had seen more than enough private performances and stage plays to last a lifetime. Frankly, most of them bored her to sleep.
So when people praised movies, she assumed it was just because commoners didn't know any better. "They've seen so little," she thought. "Even dull, abstract theater must seem exciting to them."
Still, even with that mindset, Daphne had ended up in Nosrick City.
Because no matter how dismissive she felt, the constant mentions, the passionate conversations, the sheer enthusiasm from everyone she met—it all wore her down little by little. Eventually, curiosity won out over apathy.
She didn't expect much. In fact, she fully anticipated being bored.