Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first? Chapter 252 - 252 50 Act 2

252: Chapter 50 Act 2 252: Chapter 50 Act 2 Following the script, after “gloriously” taking care of the bandits, Aske, playing the Swordsman Solomon, had rescued Miranda, portrayed by Miel.

“You are safe now,” Aske said.

The line should have been delivered with a tone of pity, but perhaps he was too tired from reading blandly that he didn’t feel like continuing with his performance and simply spoke indifferently.

Wilhelm didn’t call for a cut because, accompanying Aske’s performance, which was almost a blooper, was Miel’s perfectly executed acting, so flawless that Wilhelm couldn’t bring himself to call it NG.

She was kneeling on the ground, her clothes tattered, her body covered in wounds, her legs steeped in the foul stench of blood, yet her small head was slightly raised to gaze at Aske.

The angle of the sunlight was just right, casting a holy radiance over her delicate features as if she was an angel reborn from the sea of blood in Hell, suddenly regenerated into light.

Miel’s breathing beca a little rapid because the scene before her was too familiar—precisely, it was the image that appeared in her mind at the end of every deeply terrifying nightmare as if it was a form of redemption.

“So you wish to die?”

“I don’t wish to die…

but what can I do?”

“You could beco a rcenary with .

Heh, with your skills with firearms, you’d have a bright future.”

The image of Aske before her overlapped once again with the radiant figure in her mind, such that a faint blush quickly spread across her face.

“NG!

Cut!” Wilhelm finally couldn’t contain himself and shouted, “Miss Miel!

The previous performance was utterly perfect, but what’s up with the blushing at the end?

Miranda isn’t supposed to fall in love with Solomon at this mont!

It’s completely reversed!

It’s Solomon who’s supposed to be smitten with her!”

For Aske’s performance, it was as if a student who always failed had once again scored zero, which was within Wilhelm’s expectations.

However, for soone as excellent as Miel to make a mistake at the end of her performance was simply intolerable to him.

“Sorry,” Miel apologized, turning her head with an embarrassed look as if her most Hidden thoughts had been suddenly exposed.

“Hey, she’s still a child, it’s normal for her to make mistakes,” Aske defended with crossed arms.

“You’re aware she’s just a child, then!” the narrator almost howled, “Compared to her, your adult acting skills are utterly appalling!”

Am I just a child…

Miel pursed her lips faintly.

“Let it be, let it be, I’ll see if I can edit out the blushing part,” Wilhelm also realized that apart from the blushing mistake, the earlier scene with Miel looking up was perford so exceptionally well, capturing Miranda’s miraculous coback perfectly and even compensating for the male lead’s poor acting—if they were to reshoot because of the NG, they might not get such a good performance again.

“The next scene is where Christina cos in.”

…

Eleanor looked at her outfit speechlessly.

The specially tight and strange Mage Robe seed less like a disguise and more designed to show off her exquisite figure.

Holding a 1.5-ter long, double-handed ancient tree Magic Wand in her hand, its top was entwined roots while the bottom was sharpened to a deadly point, giving her the urge to swing it at soone.

The opening scenario of the second act was her role, Mage Christina, hearing that a group of bandits was lurking in the mountains and eagerly venturing forth intending to annihilate these criminals.

It was quite an incredulous affair, you think about it, a frail-bodied Mage, neither accompanied by bodyguards nor protected by escorts, who gave you the courage to hunt down bandits alone in the mountains?

However, if Christina hadn’t entered the mountain alone, she wouldn’t have encountered danger, she wouldn’t have t Solomon and Miranda, and then there would be no classic plot and iconic scenes to unfold.

Art always originates from life but transcends it, and those who watch with a hundred thousand ‘brains’, seeking logic, are always in the minority; most people rely seek fun.

Struggling to convince herself to accept this brainless script, Eleanor Christina, energized by the rising lody of the music, approached the bandits’ stronghold with great fervor, loudly singing:

“et your end, you wicked villains!

The litany of evil you’ve committed upon the innocents shall exact its price today!”

And then, a vast number of bandits surged out of their stronghold.

“No way?

So many enemies?” Eleanor couldn’t help but be speechless.

The army of thousands described in the script was clearly not the sa concept as the countless heads she saw bustling before her.

Not to ntion she was currently wearing a Magic Robe with no protective power and holding a Magic Wand.

Of course, unlike Aske, who was blatantly slacking off, Eleanor was quite diligent and serious.

She imdiately charged towards the nurous bandit extras in front of her, fired up by the impassioned lody, just as the script described.

Aske and Miel happened to walk out from the woods on the other side of the battlefield at that mont.

A fateful encounter.

Eleanor’s character, Christina, was fiercely battling amidst the bandits at that ti, waving her Magic Wand with vigor, causing Flas and Thunder to burst forth in all directions, making the thieves howl in pain, leaving corpses strewn all over the ground.

What was more exaggerated was that while she fought with her Magic Wand, she also had to follow the script and sing her lines in ti with the spirited background music—after all, this was a sort of short musical.

According to the script, Aske and Miel quickly joined the fray and soon wiped out the oncoming bandits.

The last to appear was naturally the first act’s mini-boss, the bandit leader, who was burly and robust, carrying a huge Battle Axe and swaggering forward.

“Hold on.” The scene suddenly froze, followed by the narrator’s voice, “I feel that this bandit leader is not nacing enough, what do you think?”

No one spoke.

“Although it might not be very realistic, I think art can afford to be a bit exaggerated.” The narrator’s voice suggested, and so the bandit leader began to inflate at a visible rate, growing to a height of three ters with arms as thick as a normal person’s waist, and his Battle Axe beca as cumberso as an executioner’s axe.

Aske frowned.

He didn’t mind making monsters stronger; he could fight anything, but this image of the monster changing at will seed familiar!

Right, training in private servers!

In his previous life, major clubs would often have their tech departnts create a private server sandbox for the purpose of training their teams, and the team mbers would then train in there.

Compared to the virtual ga world, a private server might have had a spartan environnt, but it was highly functional.

Whether it was spawning specific monsters, adjusting the weather, changing the terrain, or even the more exaggerated features like locking HP or stamina, it could easily be done, allowing them to design precise and targeted training programs according to the team’s needs.

Ever since he ca to this world and started forming a team from scratch, Aske had been missing the ga private servers of his old world.

The cost of not having a private server ant he could only replace the training for the girls with real combat in the Mutant instances, and Mutants were uncontrollable, sotis bringing troubles that forced him to interrupt the training plans he had set.

Such as Frank Knights siege battles (when Spirituality was full), Undead Mutant Dungeons (if the BOSS was too strong), Mind Town Dungeons (if the Mutant was too tricky), and so on.

However, here, since everyone was in a Mind Body state, it was not much different from the private server virtual programs of his previous life.

Both the terrain and monsters could be changed at will according to Wilhelm’s Will!

Couldn’t that achieve the purpose of private server training?

The only obstacle, it seed, would be to persuade Wilhelm.

Aske frowned, then smiled and said:

“Wilhelm, this bandit leader was imagined by you, right?

I rember you saying they would lack Spirituality?”

“Correct.” The narrator’s voice sounded puzzled, seemingly not understanding why this rcenary Corps Commander, who had been slacking off, was suddenly starting to pay attention to the script itself, “Lord Aske, what do you an?”

“Imagined characters, lacking the Spirituality of normal people, tend to be rigid in their speech and behavior.

But we could design the bandit leader’s attack patterns in advance to achieve a more realistic performance.”

“Mmm-hmm,” pondered the voice from the side, “That’s a viable approach, although I’m not very familiar with designing battles.

After all, the fight scenes in my scripts have always been choreographed by professional combat directors.”

“That’s easy.” Aske imdiately said, “Although there is no combat director here, as a professional skilled in battle, I should be able to take on that role.”

…Even though Wilhelm was quite surprised at his sudden enthusiasm, he had to admit that the suggestion was very tempting.