What was going on?
Everyone in the grand hall was completely baffled. Looking at the three Pseudo-Servants who had abruptly appeared in the magecraft projection, they all turned in unison toward the two culprits on the scene.
"Ah, what scorching gazes. How nostalgic!"
Immediately becoming the center of attention, Shakespeare basked in the exposure with great satisfaction, closing his eyes and waving his limbs with a touch of mad elegance, as though he were conducting an orchestra on the spot and composing a marvelous melody.
However, the two scrutinizing gazes from behind him made the great writer, who had been somewhat intoxicated, shudder. He snapped awake from his pleasant memories, fearfully shrank his neck, and hurriedly changed the subject with an awkward laugh and shake of his head.
"Sadly, in this splendid production, I am merely an ordinary recorder of stories."
As Shakespeare spoke, he gave a slight shrug and looked toward the figure on the jade throne, half regretful and half ingratiating.
For a moment, Samael, who had been calmly composed, became the new center of attention.
"So, what did you do?"
The Assyrian Empress, who was busy trapping Astolfo as he darted around the courtyard, turned toward her divine superior—a god associated with conspiracy, corruption, deceit, and countless other labels—and voiced the question on everyone's mind.
"Nothing much. I merely told three stories with those three girls as the protagonists."
Samael stroked his chin in thought before replying with a smile. Then, he looked approvingly at the timid Shakespeare beneath the steps.
"Oh, right. I also had the eavesdropping Caster write them down. If I had to say, those stories were probably rather true? As for everything else, it had nothing to do with me. It was all Caster's achievement. You have to believe me."
Naturally, everyone wore