Chapter 85: Rest(4)
Chapter 85: Rest(4)
A 'festival' is a concept that can never be omitted from the history of humanity.
Even now, but especially for the ancients, 'agriculture' was a vital means of survival, making them sensitive to the changing seasons of nature. Even in environments where farming was impossible, the surroundings still shifted with every season.
Because of these environmental changes at each seasonal turning point, people believed that the 'gods' must be intervening and offered them sacrifices. The customs that arose from offering these sacrifices are what we now call festivals.
As time passed and civilization developed, festivals began to take on various forms. While festivals involving sacrifices to the gods continued, as history accumulated, people began to imbue special days with special meanings.
Among the most famous types of festivals are, of course, 'Foundation Day' and New Year's celebrations. Foundation Day carries the significance of a nation having overcome various hardships and adversities, so it is no exaggeration to say it is the grandest in scale.
However, even Foundation Day falls short compared to New Year's. Since the New Year holds diverse meanings for everyone regardless of race, it naturally has to be the largest.
As mentioned before, 'festivals' are an inseparable part of human history and remain a work in progress even today.
So, what is the most important thing in holding a festival these days?
A sacred sacrifice for the gods? The capital to hold a grand celebration? A variety of things to see?
None of the above. A festival, in its essence, only gains true meaning when 'people' gather together to enjoy it.
No matter how much money is poured in, how systematically it is planned, or how many attractions there are, it is all in vain if there are no people.
And I am currently experiencing that common sense firsthand.
Not in a negative sense, but in a very positive one.
"Whoa..."
I let out a gasp of admiration, my mouth hanging open at the unbelievable sight outside the window. Previously, the atmosphere of our territory was defined by the peace that comes from silence; now, it was teeming with people and bursting with vitality.
As I’ve said before, our territory is a rural one with no distinguishing features. The only reason it has high development potential is that many young people live in the village and it is close to the capital.
Still, the fact that it was a backwater countryside didn't change, so it was always quite tranquil. The reason the young men stayed here was because of my father.
They might not know that my father gained fame as the Commander of the Navy Knights, but the mere fact that he is a commoner who became a noble is enough to pique their curiosity. That’s why the sound of groans and shouts could be heard from the mansion’s yard every single day.
But things are different now. On the streets that were once mostly empty, buildings and stalls were being erected one by one, and a performance hall—the flower of any festival—was being built on the vast plains.
Furthermore, the villagers I had occasionally become acquainted with were also lending a hand in the festival preparations. Since this wasn't a festival planned by the village itself but one supported by the Empire, they had no choice but to work hard.
Of course, that didn't mean there was any dissatisfaction on their faces. On the contrary, they seemed so happy that the village was prospering that they didn't even seem to feel the exhaustion.
"It has been several years since I was granted this territory, but this is the first time I've seen it so lively."
As I watched buildings being created in real-time like a video game, my father, who was standing beside me, spoke up. I turned my head at the sound of his voice, which carried its characteristic weight.
As always, his resolute face exuded masculinity, but today he looked particularly haggard. His complexion looked as if fatigue had piled up in layers from not sleeping for days.
In fact, ever since the Maishal territory was chosen for the exhibition, my father had become incredibly busy. Processing the mountain of approval documents was just the beginning; he also had to meet with various people.
Contracting with merchant groups visiting the territory out of curiosity, consulting with construction managers, and meticulously planning the exhibition with Leort.
Because he was working overtime day after day due to the sudden explosion in workload, it was only natural for him to be tired.
"Father, you look very tired."
"Even if I am tired, looking at the scene outside makes the fatigue feel like it's melting away. Besides, I did this sort of thing often during my active duty days. It's just been a long time."
Come to think of it, he wasn't just a simple knight; he was a Commander. Since he wasn't just a member of an ordinary knight order but the Commander himself, he must have handled administrative duties as well.
Furthermore, the Navy Knights are responsible for the borders, so they have to use their allocated budget sparingly. They might receive more money than other places, but the military is a place where no matter how much money you pour in, it's never enough.
Moreover, since the Navy Knights are akin to a special forces unit, training just one knight requires an astronomical budget. As the person in charge, my father would have had to distribute that budget efficiently, which naturally improved his administrative skills.
'Still, it must be hard on him.'
I heard that my mother was also helping him with his work. Right about now, she was probably groaning under a massive pile of paperwork.
When I gave a bitter smile out of guilt, my father chuckled and placed a hand on my shoulder. I could feel the weight and the texture of his thick palm.
"You don't have to feel so sorry. In truth, this festival is entirely for you. As I've said before, I am proud of you. You are achieving things one by one that even I couldn't do."
"It would have been difficult if you hadn't helped me, Father."
"I haven't done anything for you... but it's nice of you to say so."
His words were steeped in parental affection. A child can do nothing without the love and devotion of their parents, yet those very parents say they have done nothing for their child.
As I looked at him with misty eyes, my father silently ruffled my hair. Whenever I'm in front of my parents, I find myself wanting to act like a spoiled child.
I gave a small smile and then pointed toward the construction site, asking my father.
"So, will all of those be completed before the exhibition starts?"
"They will likely be finished just in time. For now, the plan isn't to build complex separate buildings for the exhibition, but to utilize our entire territory. I heard the scale of the play is quite large, so our empty territory is perfect for it."
As my father explained, the exhibition would be held using the entire territory. In other words, it wasn't an event held in a complexly designed building like a museum, but a format closer to a festival in the literal sense.
Of course, since orchestras and theater troupes were coming, the event would proceed according to plan. During the bustling day, people would view the artworks, and during the quiet evening, they would focus on the theater troupe and the play.
I pondered the theater troupe that would perform in the evening and asked my father. While I had seen an orchestra at the Academy's freshman event, I had never seen a theater troupe before.
"Father, have you ever seen a play?"
"I saw a few with your mother a long time ago. It should be quite entertaining."
"Did those plays use the entire plain like that one over there?"
Normally, a play is performed on a stage, but for some reason, this play was planned to take place on the wide plains.
Because of this, the performance area was being set up on the plain, and the seating area was impressively vast. They were even installing a semi-transparent screen, which looked similar to the one I had seen at the Academy's sparring grounds.
"Hmm..."
My father gazed intently in the direction I was pointing and stroked his chin. He answered as if he also found it intriguing.
"The plays I saw with your mother were performed on a stage. But I hear the theater troupe coming this time is famous in many ways."
"In what ways? I only know their name is the Matrix Theater Troupe."
"They are famous for the most realistic expressions. For example, if the setting is a snowy one, they actually make it snow; if it's raining, they make it rain. I've even heard they use explosions, making the sense of realism several times greater than other troupes."
What? That's practically at the level of a movie.
In terms of directing techniques, it sounded very similar to Christopher Nolan, the famous director from my past life. But he was a film director, and with the science of this world, such direction should be nearly impossible.
When my father saw my bewildered expression, he chuckled and spoke.
"Even your father doesn't know the details. It would be better to ask your mother about such things. Still, the general consensus is that they use magic."
"Using magic just for a play is a bit..."
"That's why they're so famous. There's a high possibility that Elves or Demons are among their members. Above all, we just need to enjoy how well they've made it."
A play that uses special effects... I'm really looking forward to it.
It will probably feel like watching a movie. Even if it's only for a short time, that will be more than enough.
I looked out the window at the exhibition I was becoming increasingly excited about. In the short time I had looked away, a few more buildings had already gone up.
Normally, it takes several months just to build one structure, so I was worried they might be rushing the construction.
'I should go check it out later.'
If there's faulty construction, there's no telling what disaster might strike. There were many cases of buildings collapsing due to poor construction in my past life, so it's best to be extra careful.
Of course, since the Imperial Family is supporting it, that's unlikely to happen, but the world doesn't always work the way you think it will.
"Isaac. Did you send a letter saying you would attend the exhibition?"
While I was looking out the window, my father asked me. I took my eyes off the window and looked at him, puzzled.
"A letter?"
"Yes. We know you are the author, so we call it a festival for you, but to others, it's a festival for the author of the Xenon Biography. If the protagonist himself doesn't show up, I wonder if this festival will have any meaning."
To reiterate, this exhibition was a festival where masters from all over the world, moved by reading the Xenon Biography, presented their own works.
So, it would be like a team without its captain; if the original author didn't show up, the fun would be halved, and the artists attending the festival might be greatly disappointed.
I thought deeply about my father's words, but since there were several things bothering me, I asked in a cautious voice.
"What if a problem arises because of that?"
"That won't happen, so don't worry too much. There will be many people participating in the festival anyway, and all you have to do is say you'll attend. Once the festival is over, you can send a letter mentioning a few artists and saying how much you enjoyed it."
"Hmm... alright."
It's usually best to follow my father's advice, as it often leads to good things. My father gave a small smile when I readily agreed.
"Then I'll go rest for a bit. More paperwork will pile up in a few hours, so it's best to rest now."
"Take it slow. What if you collapse?"
"Compared to when I was on active duty, this is nothing."
"Is there anything I can help with..."
"No. You just need to sit back and enjoy the festival. As I said before, this festival is for you."
With those words, my father returned to his room. I looked at the door he had exited through and then turned my head back toward the window.
A festival solely for the fans of the Xenon Biography. The once quiet territory was filled with energy and life, and smiles bloomed on people's faces.
I watched the scene quietly, lost in thought. The work I wrote has become another culture, breathing life into the territory. Seeing it with my own eyes was a completely different experience from hearing about it in the newspapers.
'Come to think of it, there was a similar place in Korea.'
Kim Kwang-seok Street—a cultural street was created in the area where Kim Kwang-seok was born, transforming it into a place with its own unique character.
'If our territory becomes like that...'
As I watched the territory transform in an instant, a sense of ambition began to creep up. The place where I was born and raised becomes a landmark, visited by countless tourists, and holds festivals at regular intervals just like now.
How rewarding would that be? Although I have no greed for money or power, there is a strange, irresistible charm in my novel becoming a culture.
Is this what they call honor? I felt like I could finally understand why so many people live and die for honor.
'It must be hard for artists to travel here and there, too...'
Perhaps because of my ambition, I began to rationalize things internally. It wasn't that I didn't realize it, but it was hard to resist.
I stared blankly at the street that was increasingly looking like a proper town and whispered softly.
"A festival for me..."
What form will this territory take in the distant future? Will it grow into a cultural city like Kim Kwang-seok Street, or will it remain just another ordinary territory?
'Would it be okay to just let it be known that my birthplace is the Maishal territory?'
As I’ve always said, people assume the author of the Xenon Biography is an experienced sage.
So, they would only know that my birthplace is the Maishal territory, and while they might do a bit of investigating, there's a high probability it won't go beyond that. They would only know my birthplace is the Maishal territory; no one knows where I currently live.
'I shouldn't decide this on my own. I should ask Father and Lina as well.'
I continued to watch the scene outside the window for a long time afterward.