Creating Anime In A Fantasy World

Chapter 249: The Premiere of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure! (Part 11)

At the very top of the Mage Tower—

As the story of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure reached its dramatic turning point, even the Arch Mages, who had until now watched in silence, could no longer resist voicing their thoughts.

After all, beings who had ascended to their level of existence already grasped pieces of the world’s truth—truths that to ordinary people were forbidden knowledge, but to them were little more than open secrets.

“Never would I have expected young Durin to create such a film,” Warton remarked with a note of surprise. “And to go so far as to portray vampires as the villains.”

Headmaster Hohenheim folded his arms, his gaze thoughtful before he spoke.

“In the Empire, vampires are… in a sense, an unspoken taboo. That war of extermination from long ago dragged in far too many factions and claimed far too many lives.”

He paused, then added, “To soothe the fury of all sides, it became customary for the Empire to cast vampires only in a favorable light within plays and stories. Which leaves me wondering—why has the Church remained silent on this? Vampires, to them, should be heresy incarnate.”

Another Arch Mage gave a bitter chuckle.

“The reason is simple. The Church itself was one of the most prominent forces entangled in that war. And in their zeal to wipe out the remaining vampires, they slaughtered countless innocents as well. The sins they piled up… the faithful of that era spent their entire lives trying to atone for them.”

“Even so,” another sighed, “reading the records alone was enough to shake me. A war so vast it nearly swallowed the entire Empire, twisting the fates of so many… only to be buried beneath a facade of peace. Such a tragic conclusion.”

“Sometimes,” came the reply, quiet and heavy, “a lie is not truly a lie. It is a gentler version of the truth. For if the Empire were ever made to face the full weight of that sin, who could possibly escape judgment?”

“In any case,” one elder finally murmured, “only the deepest vaults of the Mage Tower still preserve fragments of the war’s original records. Even then, vast sections are missing. The so-called truth of history may already be lost forever.”

“……”

At that, the Arch Mages allowed the subject to fade. Even they spoke of the incident with palpable unease, unwilling to probe further. Their attention returned to the film itself.

“The vampires in this story are birthed from a strange, sinister mask,” one analyzed. “I cannot fathom the principle behind it, yet the creatures it produces share every trait with the vampires we know of. If that is the case, they must surely be capable of transforming ordinary humans as well.”

“The one who now holds this Stone Mask is Dio Brando,” another added grimly. “A man of cruelty beyond measure, who will use any means to achieve his ends. It is inevitable that, when driven into a corner, he will call upon that dangerous trump card.”

“If so… then the Joestar family is in grave peril indeed. No matter how you consider it, ordinary humans stand no chance against a vampire.”

With just a few exchanges, the Arch Mages had already divined the trajectory of the plot to come.

Naturally, a story as straightforward in its main thread as JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure—with characters vividly drawn but a destiny already set—was not the sort to spark much suspense for those like them.

Meanwhile, far away, within the Southern Territory Grand Duke’s estate—

When the vampire appeared on screen, Constantine, Daphne, and even her loyal guards all stiffened in surprise. None of them had imagined the creature would be depicted in such grotesque form.

For in their understanding, vampires were supposed to be… very different.

Yet, stranger still—

Even though everyone in the room noticed how different these vampires looked compared to their own understanding, none of them truly found it odd. On the contrary, it felt almost natural, as if vampires were always meant to be these hideous, terrifying creatures.

The only vampire in the gathered crowd, Arcueid, observed it all in silence. But though her keen eyes had seen through everything, she did not offer a single word of explanation. Instead, she simply smiled and remarked—

“What an amusing tale.”

The room fell into stunned silence.

No one had expected the True Ancestor herself, of all people, to make such a statement. Given her lineage, they assumed she would be deeply offended by such a portrayal of her kin. And yet, she had so casually accepted it—more readily, in fact, than they themselves could stomach.

But of course, who among them would dare to press the matter further? Not one soul in the Grand Duke’s estate had the courage to question their revered progenitor. All they could do was bury their doubts in their hearts and keep their silence.

. . .

On screen, the story pressed forward.

Having uncovered the Stone Mask’s horrifying secret, Dio Brando returned, weary and calculating, to the Joestar mansion.

But awaiting him was no warm hearth—only Jonathan Joestar, surrounded by the flickering glow of candlelight.

“I’ve finally found the proof, Dio!” Jonathan’s voice rang out, heavy with conviction. “The evidence that exposes your devilish schemes!”

“—!”

Dio’s expression faltered instantly, a rare flicker of panic twisting across his face.

Cornered, with no path of escape, Dio ground his teeth together, eyes narrowing as though he had resolved himself to something dire.

Jonathan lowered the candle he held, his tone solemn, almost mournful.

“I’ve already secured the antidote… Father has taken it and will recover. My heart is heavy, Dio. You and I grew up together as though we were brothers. And yet now… I have no choice but to hand you over to the police. You may never understand this feeling, but these are my true, honest words.”

Hearing him, Dio sank into his chair, answering with a voice strangely calm, even resigned.

“Such kindness… it is just like you, JoJo. I know it’s selfish of me, but allow me one final request. Grant me a little time—just enough to confess my sins to the police myself.”

Jonathan blinked in surprise. He had expected a desperate struggle, a ferocious last stand. Never had he imagined Dio would yield so easily.

But in truth, Dio had abandoned no such thoughts. His mind burned with a single, murderous intent: to kill Jonathan and seize his chance.

“I regret the life I’ve led,” Dio spoke with convincing bitterness. “Growing up in the slums twisted my heart with foolish ambition. I stooped to poisoning my benefactor, to coveting his wealth. My decision to surrender is proof that I’ve repented. If I’d ever wanted to flee, I could have escaped the country long ago!”

As he spoke, Dio’s eyes brimmed with tears of so-called remorse.

Moved by such raw emotion, Jonathan’s heart wavered. He began to step forward, sympathy clouding his judgment—

—and that was when Dio’s hand slipped toward his coat, ready to strike.

But before the trap could be sprung, a sharp voice cut through the air:

“Mr. Joestar, be careful! Don’t believe a word that bastard says!”

From the shadows of the room, a figure emerged—Robert E.O. Speedwagon of Ogre Street—his cold sneer fixed squarely on the flustered Dio.