Creating Anime In A Fantasy World - Chapter 59: The Premiere Begins

After paying for the premiere tickets, at the generous invitation of General Wilhelm, Knight Commander Wycliffe and his disciple Rhine reluctantly took the fifty-gold-coin premiere tickets and entered the cinema hall.

On their way in, unlike Wycliffe’s rigid demeanor, Wilhelm and Rhine, the old and the young, chatted and laughed as they quickly made their way to the screening room for the premiere.

Looking around, there were fewer than a hundred people privileged enough to attend the premiere, all of whom were wealthy merchants from various places and their families.

These merchants’ children were visibly excited, chatting and laughing, clearly looking forward to seeing a film as joyful as KonoSuba: God’s Blessing on This Wonderful World!…

In contrast, it was the first time both Wycliffe and Rhine had come to see a movie.

After finding their seats under the guidance of General Wilhelm, Wycliffe immediately closed his eyes and began to meditate.

Although meditation doesn’t offer significant skill improvement for non-magic classes, it remains a required practice for most knights to train their mindset.

As for why Wycliffe chose to meditate, it was undoubtedly to uphold his earlier stance of not wanting to “waste time watching such a pointless film.”

Even meditating would be a better use of his time than watching the movie.

Wilhelm and Rhine, realizing they couldn’t change his mind, exchanged helpless glances and turned their attention to the large white screen, filled with curiosity about what kind of performance awaited them.

Neither had ever seen a film before.

Suddenly, the magic crystals above the hall dimmed, and the entire space was plunged into darkness.

As the room turned pitch black, the bright glow of images gradually appeared on the white screen.

Soon, with the sound of dripping, like bl00d splattering on the ground, the film Goblin Slayer began.

The setting was a pitch-black cave, where bl00d and water slowly pooled on the ground.

The scene shifted to a trembling girl leaning against the cave wall, her expression one of sheer terror.

The screen transitioned again to a figure clad in armor, holding a torch, slowly approaching from the depths of the cave.

His grimy form blended with the dark environment, and the crimson light seeping through the cracks in his helmet seemed even redder than the torchlight.

As the girl’s fearful sobs filled the air, the armored figure came closer, step by step.

Then, the screen faded to black, and the story officially began.

Most of the audience had no idea what the opening meant.

Having expected something similar to KonoSuba, most of them were bewildered, left wondering what they had just seen.

Given the deep impression KonoSuba had left on them with its groundbreaking humor and satire, many viewers had subconsciously associated the word “movie” with lighthearted comedy.

Since there had been no advance promotion for this premiere, their minds were still stuck in the previous story.

Thus, amidst speculation, most of the audience guessed that the armored figure would be the villain or boss of this story.

After all, considering how frightened the girl was, it seemed likely that this person couldn’t be a good guy.

Soon, the title Goblin Slayer appeared on the screen, along with a subtitle indicating the setting as Winter City in the North.

The audience fell into complete silence.

Yes, upon seeing the subtitle, the audience realized that this story was set in the northernmost, most dangerous region of the Empire—The Northern Territory!

As the group of young adventurers set out to slay goblins, many viewers began to feel an uneasy premonition due to the movie’s overall dark and oppressive atmosphere, as if the film were subtly warning them of impending doom.

When the adventurers, with a mix of excitement and trepidation, entered the goblins’ lair in the cave…

“This isn’t going to end well for them,” General Wilhelm said solemnly.

Rhine, puzzled, asked, “Why? They’re just going to slay ordinary goblins, right? I mean, their equipment looks decent. Plus, they’ve got a balanced party with a swordsman, a fighter, a priestess, and a mage. Isn’t that a solid group composition?”

Wycliffe, who had been meditating, suddenly opened his eyes and said, “Good equipment? This party doesn’t have a single member wearing proper armor or carrying any defensive gear. And they’re entering a goblin cave without a map, without antidotes, no escape plan, and no knowledge of their enemy’s numbers. They sealed their fate the moment they stepped inside.”

“But they’re just goblins…” Rhine tried to argue.

“Foolish,” the knight commander chastised, “Have you forgotten everything I taught you, Rhine? An adventuring party, without maps, antidotes, an escape route, or proper knowledge of their enemy—and most importantly, without self-awareness—was doomed the moment they entered the cave.”

Rhine, realizing he couldn’t win this argument against two experienced soldiers who had both fought in the Northern Territory, where they had battled monsters and other races, fell silent and refocused on the film.

Meanwhile, the previously dismissive Wycliffe, who had sworn not to waste time on this “pointless film,” had now forgotten all his earlier words.

His eyes were wide open, glued to the screen alongside the rest of the audience, anxiously awaiting the adventurers’ fate.

And soon, their fate indeed unfolded, just as expected.

The young adventurers, entirely unprepared, were massacred by the goblins. Inexperienced and clueless, they stood no chance against the goblins’ cunning.

Even as they managed to kill a few, the overwhelming numbers of the goblins made their efforts futile.

When the goblins stabbed the mage girl with a dagger, many women in the audience gasped and shut their eyes in horror.

Some parents quickly covered their children’s eyes as the gruesome scene played out on the screen.

And that was only the beginning.

When the swordsman rushed to aid his companions upon hearing their screams, he found himself outmatched by the goblins.

The narrow confines of the cave left him unable to swing his sword effectively.

His weapon became stuck in the cave wall, and the goblins swarmed him, tearing him apart.

The movie had barely been on for ten minutes, yet the audience had already witnessed several brutal killings.

It was clear that this story wasn’t going to be a cheerful fairytale but a genuinely perilous adventure.

When the female fighter was dragged away, screaming, by a large goblin, some of the more sensitive women in the audience let out cries of terror, unable to cope with the sheer brutality unfolding on screen.

Many of them had lived sheltered lives, never exposed to such harsh realities.

Finally, just as the last surviving adventurer, the priestess, was about to meet her end, the figure from the opening scene—the knight clad in grimy armor—appeared.

At that moment, the audience, who had initially thought him to be the villain, collectively realized with a murmur, “That filthy knight… Is he the protagonist of this movie?”