Editor 131

Introduction to History (4)

He had thought about it.

The doubt of whether this world was simply “nothing more than a manuscript created through writing” had always lingered within ‘Jeongjin’.

But doubt could not turn into conviction. Too obvious a counter-evidence was engraved on his body, blocking such an assumption.

Kleio held out the back of his hand to Regina. As he injected ether, a clear blue-azure rectangle and a thin line appeared on his skin.

“I’ve already used this stigmata to turn back time and correct details of the story. How could a real world be altered by a few hastily scrawled proofreader’s marks?”

How could the real world be reduced to letters and margins, and how could the arrangement of characters leave stigmata on a character’s body? How could what has happened be reversed, how could the dead be revived?

The air around him seemed to thin. Kleio felt suffocated.

Regina, whose complexion was no better than Kleio’s pale face, spoke with difficulty.

She tried to convey the truth ‘Jeongjin’ sought, but her words were violently interrupted by some force.

After a tedious effort, Regina’s voice reached Kleio again.

“…□□, do you remember this question? How can history and narrative be distinguished?”

It was a question out of context, but it was probably connected to the earlier discussion that ‘Jeongjin’ had not been able to hear.

He could sense as much.

And Kleio, or rather ‘Jeongjin’, remembered the first moment in his life he had heard that question.

It felt as if the past, like a kind of mirage, was enveloping the two of them.

Sound, smell, touch. All of it.

Kleio slowly parted his lips.

“Writing that can’t change what happened itself and writing that can change everything that happened, the act of discovering events and the act of creating them—that’s the distinction.”

“At the same time, the boundary between history and narrative can become so close as to be indistinguishable, or so far as to be like opposite shores of an ocean.”

Regina completed the recited phrase that Kleio had begun, lowering her well-shaped eyebrows and barely managing a smile.

It was content from the first lecture of the Introduction to Philosophy of History class.

No more words were needed. They both knew the other was recalling the same moment.

The official title of the lecture was “Understanding the Philosophy of History,” but everyone called it Introduction to History, a required course.

The scene of the lecture hall on the second floor of the East Building flashed inside Kleio’s rapidly blinking eyelids.

The East Building was sixty years old, and even in March, it was cold. Every morning, the old radiator would make a rattling noise.

The soon-to-retire old professor’s lectures were rambling, and his explanations often wandered off-topic.

But ‘Jeongjin’ had liked that class.

From the very back seat, he would quietly watch the back of ‘Minsan’, who always sat in the front row.

It had only been thirteen years ago, but now it felt like a memory from a previous life.

He had, in fact, thought of it as his “previous life” until now.

“Yeah, that’s what we learned. The historical events we knew in that world could never happen twice; no matter what method of historiography is used, you can’t change what actually happened. That definition was correct in that world.”

Even though Regina was so close their cheeks could almost touch, her voice was so faint Kleio could barely hear it. He clenched his trembling hands tightly.

“But here, in the last world, history isn’t like that. The history of this world is a history that can be rewritten, a history where events can be reversed.”

Regina whispered that in this world, the dead could return to life and mistakes could be corrected.

“This place is very similar to the world we knew, but it’s a completely different world. It’s made up of different natural laws, different principles. How could the history of a world where the train station’s clock is set by ether waves, not electric signals, be the same as ours? Could time here be the same as our time?”

“Then in this repeatable world, what’s the author’s role? How can a manuscript that merely imitates phenomena change the world?”

Even as she shrank in pain, Regina gripped Kleio’s collar tightly and spoke urgently.

“You already know. The text is fundamental, and it transcends time and space… Think about it, that was the same even in our original world. There were books written about the creation and destruction of the world there too. Then couldn’t there also be books written about what happened in between?”

Unable to let go or hold on to her trembling, pale hand, ‘Jeongjin’ engraved all her words in his mind.

It was an explanation of the world’s structure he could not have gotten anywhere else. Even if he couldn’t accept it now, he had a feeling he must remember it.

“I never thought you, of all people, would say that rewriting something like the Bible could change the world.”

“Haha, maybe you can’t fully understand the power of the text yet. But you are already a remarkable magician, so you have to admit it. Isn’t your magic strangely powerful?”

Kleio squeezed out his answer.

“Yeah. It was.”

“Incantations made from sentences that have survived a long time, texts that have been rewritten and re-quoted over and over, are what make your magic so powerful.”

It was true. Even simple defensive magic was overwhelmingly strong when he used incantations he had gained in the previous world.

‘Jeongjin’ found a contradiction in her words.

“Why is that? All those sentences are creative works that don’t exist in this world. Here, no one knows their source, and I’m the only one quoting them, so how could they work that way?”

“The act of quotation, in the form of incantation, connects our world and this world on the palimpsest’s surface. Also, all magic in the world, including ether—.”

Since it was a phrase he had heard so many times, Kleio reflexively finished Regina’s sentence.

“—comes from outside the world.”

“Right. That’s why you, who remember lines that have crossed a world, have been given miraculous power.”

‘Jeongjin’ still couldn’t accept this sudden revelation.

“But even the original language wasn’t the same.”

“Translation is possible. Just as every song and scripture in the world could be translated. Meaning transcends form, and sense exceeds structure. Words of truth do not fade in the transformation of language. That is the work of God. ‘In the beginning was the Word’1)…”

‘Jeongjin’ knew the next line of that verse Regina recited in Albion’s language.

The Word was with God, and the Word was God, the ancient scripture said.

Even in the 21st century, some people still believed that was the truth of the world.

“Ha, then it makes even less sense. Anyone who’s read a few books could do this. Why did you choose me?”

“That’s not true. You did exceptionally well. You put your advice into practice in the world and came all this way.”

“Advice…?”

“I mean the advice you wrote after reading the eighth manuscript.”

From the distant past, ‘Jeongjin’ could barely remember a few emails he’d sent to ‘Musai’, just general advice.

-If you’re stuck in the plot, try writing the plot and outline first.

-It seems you didn’t particularly imagine a target readership, but considering recent trends, you might want to speed up the development.

-The protagonist should also be given enough information and ability to stand against the villain, so the story can progress as you intend.

None of it was very special.

And back then, he had only regarded as a neutral text, so he could say those things.

If he had thought of it as a world he had to actually live through, he would never have made such cheap judgments.

What should he call this feeling?

Something between regret and shock. The stifling urge to throw off the authority and duty he never asked for. All of it.

“So you want to claim that this world is both real and a manuscript, and that the author, one of the muses, recreated the world based on such useless words? That’s a most unwelcome story.”

“What can I do, it’s still the truth. You are both editor and scribe, and now the one who connects the two worlds through the promise. It was scribes who recorded worlds created by the Word as canon. Citing sources, editing and fair-copying are the scribe’s jobs, so in a world that’s still a manuscript, not yet a book, the authority you have is both weak and terrifying.”

At last, tears born of pain welled up in Regina’s violet eyes. Light spread over her moist eyes, so for a moment they looked brown, like Minsan’s.

But ‘Jeongjin’ found the compassion and longing within those eyes, not their unique color so similar to Minsan’s, unfamiliar.

“Please, fulfill the author’s wish, □□. So that the king chosen by the author, the kingdom chosen by the author, and the technique chosen by the author can have a future. Only you can do that.”

Regina’s body leaned as if an old tree had reached the end of its life. Only her faint, desperate words lingered.

Unable to bear the growing scent of blood, Kleio tried to stop Regina.

“That’s enough for now. Just… I’ll ask you again later….”

Regina, no longer able to even hold his collar, let her hand drop from Kleio’s clothes onto the bed.

“You’ve already heard the answers to countless questions. When you fully belong to this story, all secrets will lose their mystery before you. What was forbidden to say will be freed from its restraints, and you’ll be able to speak about the mission given to you. The final decision can only be yours—”

Cough.

Regina hurriedly covered her mouth. The sharp scent of blood burst forth.

“—I’ll wait for that day.”

With those words, Regina clenched her jaw tight.

Her slender neck moved with difficulty. Regina forced herself to swallow the blood that had risen.

It seemed she was worried about staining the white clothes and bedding with blood and drawing unwanted attention.

“□□, can you edit this conversation with your authority? The author will approve it. This is too early an appendix, an annotation that shouldn’t yet be included in the manuscript. If this were the proper development, I would have given you my blessing and then fallen asleep.”

“Does the author actually exist? If so, where are they, by what principle do they shake a story they can’t even control?”

“The author doesn’t know all the details of what’s happening here. Acceptance and rejection of the development are based on the author’s set goals and themes, things happening under closed eyelids.”

Kleio’s hand, which had been awkwardly wiping blood from Regina’s hand with a handkerchief, stopped.

“I only broke the rules because I wanted to give you at least a fragment of the truth. But I, too, am bound by the restrictions of this world, so I can’t say any more. □□, □□□. Even your name keeps getting omitted. I wanted to call you just once more….”

Regina’s words were hidden by silence, but he could imagine her affectionate words, “Jeongjin, Kim Jeongjin.”

He hadn’t cried once since what happened to his mother, but now his eyes felt on the verge of welling up.

“This is all we have now, so please understand if I call you by the way the world allows.”

Regina, straightening her back with her last strength, gently placed her barely-cleaned right hand on Kleio’s shoulder.

“To Sir Kleio Asel, I, Regina Historia, daughter of God, bestow my blessing.”

Having used up all her energy, Regina became paler than the bedsheets and lost consciousness.

Her head, bent on the pillow, looked pitiful.

Kleio, who straightened her head, pressed his hot eyes with his hand.

The feeling of the ‘promise’ still on his left hand was strangely new.

After a moment’s hesitation, Kleio Asel finally activated ‘editor authority.’

[“—Unique skill: Using ‘Editor Authority.’ (2/3)”]

[“—Time remaining / Time limit:

00:04:59 / 00:05:00″]

The second hand of the clock stopped, and the water droplets on the cup defied gravity.

Soon, a palimpsest and a gold-and-blue inked quill floated before Kleio.

His feelings were completely different from the first time he saw them, and he was filled with complex emotions.

Facing the text that was the world itself, Kleio had to spend a few seconds calming his emotional turmoil.

At last, he tightly gripped the manuscript that was crumbling to dust in his hand, then opened it.

He had something to check before editing. He flipped to the front of the manuscript.

Python’s second attack.

Grendel’s raid.

The death of the Duke of Tristain.

Arthur’s crisis.

And the appearance of “in-story narration.”

“『When one is deeply involved with the safety of the world and shares genuine intentions, the glorious favor of God descends upon the earth.』”

‘It’s there.’

Unlike the information windows that had appeared countless times but left no trace in the manuscript, the message he had heard was clearly recorded in the manuscript.

It was an expression of the inner thoughts of the character “Kleio Asel,” who had only functioned mechanically until now, now reflecting ‘Jeongjin’s’ perspective.

‘Is this the result of increased narrative intervention?’

It was paradoxical enough to make him laugh.

The moment he realized the gravity of his editorial role, ‘Kleio’ also became, without lack, one of the story’s characters.

It was a deeply strange feeling, but there was no time for sentiment.

Conscious of the quickly decreasing time limit, Kleio carefully turned the manuscript.

It was easy to find the scene of meeting Regina. The manuscript’s condition had been odd ever since the archbishop dismissed the priests.

The neat handwriting from earlier became erratic, ink splattered, and the pen slid off the page.

It looked as if the writer had been half-asleep.

After staring for a few more seconds, he realized it was more like a draft or a memo than a manuscript.

Never before had the contents of been in such a state.

‘And the places where Regina’s words were cut off are all missing.’

The parts that had sounded like noise were all omitted. It was a complete mess.

Kleio boldly marked an entire page with a deletion symbol and began transcribing the previous page’s contents onto the next one.

He made no other changes.

After the greeting, he simply ended with “To Kleio Asel, I, Regina Historia, daughter of God, bestow my blessing,” omitting the rest of the conversation between Regina and Kleio.

[“—Time remaining / Time limit:

00:00:01 / 00:00:05″]

Even that used up all the time.

A message announcing the author’s acceptance or rejection appeared faster than usual.

[“—The author accepts the editor’s fair copy.”]

1) 『Revised Korean Bible』, “John” 1:1.