I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy

"No matter how sharp a blade is, it's just a tool. Depending on how it's wielded, it can become a bloodthirsty demon sword or a holy blade that protects the world."

The old woman had repeated those cryptic words with a sinister grin.

As she read Maya’s palm with her wrinkled hands, the hag had left a stern warning:

"So if you don’t want to walk the path of a cruel beast, pay attention to the precious bond that’s coming your way soon. Hehehe!"

The path of a cruel beast?

Maya scoffed internally. “If it means gaining power, I don’t mind walking that path.”

Xiang Yu from Phantom’s play had been the same as her.

The villainous Qin Empire, which had destroyed six elven kingdoms to seize power, had taken his beloved uncle, Xiang Liang, from him. And Xiang Yu had cried out in rage.

But in the end, he avenged his uncle’s death with nothing more than his sword.

He personally executed the ones responsible, brought down the entire Qin Empire, and crushed any who stood in his way, even driving his cowardly rival Liu Bang into exile in Bashu.

"So I don’t need an old, stuck-in-the-past mentor like Fan Zeng anymore."

Watching Fan Zeng, Xiang Yu’s advisor and mentor, Maya had thought back to someone else.

Always nagging, always saying, “Strength alone can’t rule the world.” Just like her own mentor, who had warned her in that same sorrowful tone, “You can’t live by strength alone.”

"You were wrong. In this world, strength is everything."

As Maya held onto the badge made of the same orichalcum as Phantom’s—a symbol of her status as a Sword’s Champion candidate—she whispered to herself.

Xiang Yu had strength, and because of that, no one could defy his decisions.