I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy Chapter 25

Cough, cough!

The sound of a cough erupted from deep within his throat.

Sensing his ti left in this world was short, the elderly alchemist, Flalious, let out a long sigh.

He had taken great pride in his life’s work. As an alchemist, he had set an example for others, raising brilliant students. He had diligently studied ancient knowledge and made significant contributions as a scholar.

But no matter how many disciples he trained or how deeply he delved into ancient texts, there was one thing he could never achieve.

It was the greatest aspiration shared by all alchemists since the profession's inception—crafting the legendary "Philosopher's Stone" with his own hands.

“Know thyself. I know that I know nothing.”

He muttered this phrase like a magic incantation, closing the book in front of him.

In the empire, all alchemy was based on knowledge passed down from ancient texts, a foundation that alchemists, regardless of age or status, could not question.

Having spent his life studying these ancient texts, Flalious believed that he was the one destined to complete the field of alchemy.

But after reading Phantom’s Lesedrama, his perspective shifted.

The image of sophists, who revealed their ignorance yet never admitted it, caused him to unwittingly reflect on his own limitations.

...Of course, Flalious's situation wasn't an exact parallel to the sophists' debates.

The sophists focused on abstract, taphysical discussions, whereas alchemists dealt with more practical, tangible knowledge.

Nevertheless, the philosophy in The Dialogues gave him new inspiration for thinking, and once his way of thinking changed, he began to see things he had been blind to before.

“...”

In the end, Flalious set aside all the ancient texts that had once symbolized his pride and shredded the accumulated knowledge he had once accepted unquestioningly.

He began a rigorous new investigation, peeling away the outer layers of what he had previously taken as "truth" and critiquing it, just as Socrates had challenged the sophists' complacent wisdom.

Ti passed, his gray hair slowly turning white.

“Haha... ha...”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he gazed at the radiant, shimring red liquid bubbling inside a transparent flask.

“I... I actually did it!”

In that mont, he instinctively knew.

He had now achieved everything a human alchemist could achieve.

There was no need to cling to life any longer—he could leave this world peacefully and with dignity.

“Thank you. Thank you, Socrates. And thank you, Phantom.”

The two individuals who had brightened his once-clouded vision... The elderly alchemist blew his nose into a handkerchief and quietly offered his thanks.

Then he picked up a quill and began writing on the worn parchnt beside him.

He wanted to leave a ssage to his beloved and brilliant students, the ones he had spent his life training.

He wrote down everything they needed to know.

"Uh... sorry, what did you just say this is?”

Thinking I had misheard, I rubbed my ears and asked again.

But the young alchemist who had co all the way to the Kiligruger theater to see , Phantom, stood firm.

“Please accept this. It is the Philosopher’s Stone, the ultimate goal of all alchemists.”

The young man had begged to see , claiming he had to fulfill his master's final wish.

Now, as he stood before , he handed over a transparent glass vial containing a mysterious substance.

“My late master, Flalious, instructed to give this to you as a gift. He said that thanks to you, he was able to achieve the greatest accomplishnt of his life.”

“Uh... well, first of all, may he rest in peace. But, uh... did you say this is the Philosopher’s Stone? The Philosopher’s Stone from legend?”

I stared at the liquid sloshing inside the vial.

The reddish hue, reminiscent of freshly squeezed blood, gave off an unsettling aura.

Maybe it was because of all the ani I’d watched in my previous life, but just hearing the na "Philosopher's Stone" imdiately brought to mind a certain ani.

And if it was anything like that, the ingredients used to make this...

“Rest assured. The Alchemists’ Guild does not use any dangerous or unethical materials. Such practices would violate the principles of alchemy.”

Noticing my expression, the young man quickly reassured .

It seed even in this world, rumors about alchemists conducting shady experints with dubious materials were rampant.

“Philosopher’s Stone, Philosopher’s Stone... I’ve certainly heard the na often, even as soone outside of alchemy,” I said, carefully taking the vial from him.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this strange substance might explode if handled the wrong way.

“But I’m not really sure what it does. Could you explain it to ?”

In my world, the Philosopher’s Stone was said to transform base tals into gold. In popular dia, it was reimagined as an elixir of immortality.

So what exactly did the Philosopher’s Stone do in this world?

“The Philosopher’s Stone is a substance that can permanently alter the structure of matter.”

Pointing to the symbol of a serpent devouring its own tail, engraved on the glass, the young alchemist explained,

“All things in nature have a specific structure. By altering that structure, the properties of a material can change—just like how water can turn to steam or ice depending on whether heat or cold is applied.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And, broadly speaking, humans are also material,” he continued, placing a hand over his heart, his eyes gleaming with excitent as he pondered the possibilities.

“The Philosopher’s Stone can alter the 'properties' of the person who consus it, granting them a mysterious ability based on their deepest desires. That ‘desire’ could be sothing functional or purely personal.”

“Alter their properties and grant them abilities, huh? That sounds... intriguing. So, could soone turn into an elf or a dwarf with it?”

“Haha, no. It’s not like that. Creating life is the domain of the divine. The Philosopher’s Stone can tweak structures, but it can’t completely override the essence of living beings.”

“Hmm, I see.”

That’s a bit disappointing.

For a second there, I was hoping it might be possible to transform small animals into kaiju-like monsters, like sothing out of a movie.

You know, Godzilla, King Kong, Mothra, King Ghidorah... Owning one of those would be the ultimate dream, wouldn’t it?

“If you’re curious about what kind of ability you might gain, feel free to try it after I leave. My master, the greatest alchemist, thoroughly tested its safety, so there’s no need to worry,” the young alchemist said.

“Right, about that... Why did your master decide to give his life's crowning achievent? I’m just a playwright with no connection to alchemy.”

I asked what I thought was a perfectly reasonable question. The young alchemist smiled, reached into his robe, and pulled out sothing familiar.

It was a worn-out first edition of The Dialogues, clearly well-read, its pages dog-eared from constant use.

“Your Dialogues. That book gave my master profound inspiration. He urged us not to blindly follow outdated authority but to forge our own path in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“I... I see.”

“And that’s why my master, Flalious, decided to give this creation to you. Without the inspiration from The Dialogues, he would never have completed the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“...”

“He respected ancient knowledge but didn’t let it bind him. Thinking with your own mind—that’s the wisdom you imparted to us alchemists. On behalf of the entire Alchemists’ Guild, we thank you.”

...So, because of Socrates, he opened the door to truth and completed his life’s work?

I almost burst out laughing, imagining a white-haired, bald Socrates shouting, “That is correct, alchemist!” but I held it in.

Laughing at the delivery of a ntor’s final legacy would definitely be in poor taste.

‘Not a good ti to start giggling over ani references, Phantom.’

Honestly, I didn’t fully grasp the connection, but after thinking it over, it wasn’t entirely implausible.

After all, the foundations of dieval alchemy were laid by the philosopher Aristotle, and Aristotle had been a student of Plato, who in turn was a disciple of Socrates.

Though their philosophies had diverged, their roots could still be traced back to Socrates’ influence.

...Even so, there were still so things I couldn’t quite wrap my head around.

“Are you sure it’s okay to just hand over sothing this valuable to ?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, you said the Philosopher’s Stone is the greatest aspiration of all alchemists. Did your master pass down the thod for creating it to you?”

“No, he did not. He left us so hints, but that’s all. He told us to figure out the rest on our own.”

“Then shouldn’t this completed stone be used for further research in the lab? Even if it was your master’s final wish, this seems like sothing that should stay with the alchemists.”

In modern terms, it would be like inventing a room-temperature superconductor and then just handing it off to soone without the blueprints.

Shouldn’t the Alchemists’ Guild be in an uproar over this?

“There’s no need. As Socrates said in The Dialogues, a life unexamined is not worth living.”

The young alchemist’s deanor remained resolute.

Staring at as though I were a sage, he said,

“We, too, have read The Dialogues. And we now understand the value of the journey, not just the end result.”

“...”

“We intend to follow in the footsteps of Flalious and find our own way to create the Philosopher’s Stone. This decision has already been approved by the Guild’s elders, so please accept it. Consider it a gesture of respect for the Hero of the Pen.”

The elders had approved it as well...

In that case, there was no need for to argue any further.

Refusing such a thoughtful gift now would only be rude.

And so, I returned to Bronde Academy, with the Philosopher’s Stone in my possession as the Hero of the Pen.