Chapter 233
Chapter 233
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 233
>Chapter Title: Rehabilitation (8)
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As a massive palace took shape on the outskirts of Pyeongnyang County, the locals' attention naturally turned toward it.
"What's this place for?"
"Maybe some rich fellow from out of town is moving in."
And then, one day just before the grand structure's completion.
The purpose of the palace became known to the residents.
"They call it the Hall of Arts."
"The Hall of Arts?"
When the residents asked with puzzled expressions, the Beggar Clan disciples who'd been spreading the word chimed in.
"You know those mock battles? The ones held every evening. Now they'll be putting them on in that palace. And all the concerts and plays are supposed to happen there from now on, too."
"I was bummed we couldn't watch when it rained. This might actually be for the best."
Seeing their reactions, one of the Beggar Clan disciples casually added,
"But they're gonna charge admission now."
"What? We've been watching for free every time. What kind of nonsense is that?"
"Building the place costs money, and maintaining it does too. So they say they have to charge at least a nominal fee. Anyway, it's not much—just ten copper coins a day. Let's wait and see."
At first, the reactions were negative.
It was unavoidable. Having to pay for something they'd used for free wasn't easy to swallow.
A few days later, the palace was finally complete. As the time approached for the first mock battle at the Hall of Arts.
Pyeongnyang County residents paced anxiously inside their homes or wandered the streets.
At first, none of them planned to go. They didn't want to shell out money for something that had been free.
But as one day passed, then two, their thinking began to shift.
"It's not that expensive, really."
"I gotta know what happens next! The Jade Sword Young Master is gonna give that Black Wind Butcher a thrashing this time, right?"
The longer they waited, the stronger their craving to see the mock battles grew.
Lately, sure, there were all sorts of new entertainments—performances, music, mock battles—but Pyeongnyang County had always been short on fun things to do.
The people were just simple folks, working hard to get by in this quiet county.
Then they'd been exposed to that horrific devilweed by villains, and now ordinary daily life felt unbearably dull.
The various shows had soothed their boredom and unease.
But now, they'd have to pay to enjoy them again.
"Screw it! It's not like it'll wear out from watching!"
In overcoming their devilweed addiction, they'd become hooked on mock battles, music, and performances instead.
Even the physicians and healers who'd come to treat them were egging the residents on.
"Hahaha. If you want to see it, just go. Ten coins a day at most. Honestly, you can earn that in an hour's work, right?"
Through consultations and chats, they subtly urged the locals to get back to work.
That evening, in the end.
Most of Pyeongnyang County's residents couldn't hold back any longer and headed to the Hall of Arts.
Images of the mock battles danced in their minds.
Il-mok had even deliberately halted the mock battles and music shows for a few days to build this frenzy.
On top of that, he'd instructed the storytellers to ramp up the hype: the finale of the ongoing saga, the ultimate showdown between the Jade Sword Young Master and the Black Wind Butcher, would take place in tonight's mock battle.
Those addicted to the mock battles had no choice but to come.
But Il-mok, the mastermind behind it all, felt no shame.
At least this was far healthier than addictions to drugs, booze, gambling, or theft.
"Today, the Jade Sword Young Master will finally put that scoundrel in his place, right?"
"Who knows. From that last fight with the henchman, it looked like the Jade Sword Young Master was still a step below the Black Wind Butcher."
As the lined-up residents chatted on their way into the Hall of Arts, a commotion broke out at the entrance.
"Hey! That guy's only paying ten coppers to get in—why do we have to pay fifty?"
When one man bellowed his complaint, the ticket-taker shrugged and pointed somewhere.
To the sign reading [Pricing].
"See that? Locals: ten coppers. Out-of-towners: fifty coppers. Kids fifteen and under: half price."
The complaining man checked the [Pricing] sign and quickly backpedaled.
"Ahem. M-me too, I'm a local. So just ten coppers for me."
"I'm from Pyeongnyang County. You saying you can't recognize a local?"
The out-of-towner tried to argue more, but voices rose from behind.
"Come on, hurry up and get in."
"The mock battle's about to start!"
"Who are you calling a local? I ain't never seen you around!"
In the end, the out-of-towner and his group shelled out two hundred coins for four tickets.
And the Pyeongnyang locals who'd watched the whole thing felt inexplicably satisfied.
"Hmm. Kinda sucks it's not free anymore, but at least they're looking out for us."
"Yeah. Out-of-towners still pay five times more, though."
There were a few more minor scuffles with tourists who'd visited Communal Mountain and come to Pyeongnyang, but soon everyone was inside the Hall of Arts.
Once full, just over half the seats were occupied.
They'd designed it generously for the day Pyeongnyang County became even more famous. For now, it held most of the county's population.
Before long, the mock battle they'd all been waiting for began.
To set up future storylines, the matches featured fighters who weren't big names.
The new performers weren't Beggar Clan disciples like before.
They were warriors from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's combat unit, summoned at Il-mok's call.
*How did I end up doing this...?*
For Cult warriors who'd once seen beheading villains as the meaning of life, this was utterly bizarre.
But the one most baffled by the situation was someone else.
"The Jade Sword Young Master, who has come here for the final life-or-death duel with the Black Wind Butcher!"
Amid the announcer's shout and entrance music, Jeong-hyeon stepped forward and squeezed her eyes shut.
*H-how did it come to this...?*
The massive crowd at this debut show was all thanks to Jeong-hyeon.
Her handsome looks and stoic demeanor. Her backstory as the disciple of the once-heroic Blue Sword Great Hero. Plus the narrative of her steady growth and strengthening with every match.
She was, without a doubt, the star of the mock battles right now.
Though she wanted none of it.
"Wooooaaah!"
"Jade Sword Young Master! Look over here~!"
Regardless, her match began amid the audience's thunderous cheers.
She'd originally trained in archery, but the Jade Sword Young Master was a swordsman.
It wasn't particularly difficult, though.
She was already at a peak realm by jianghu standards, and the mock battles were scripted anyway.
Jeong-hyeon blocked out the cheers and stares, pushing her Spirit Ghost Divine Bow to its limits and focusing solely on the performance.
She stuck strictly to the choreography, proceeding as planned for a good while.
"Gah...."
Finally, per the script, the Jade Sword Young Master's sword sliced across the Black Wind Butcher's chest.
Right after, the audience's roar shook the hall.
Then Jeong-hyeon did something unscripted.
Thud.
She dropped straight into a cross-legged seat and began qi circulation and breath adjustment.
In this unexpected turn, the veteran announcer bellowed,
"Ohhh! It looks like the Jade Sword Young Master has gained enlightenment from her life-or-death duel with the Black Wind Butcher!"
As soon as he finished, several warriors appeared from spots around the venue, surrounding her protectively.
It wasn't staging.
They'd sensed she'd truly broken through and rushed out.
Lately, she'd been forced into missionary work, Blanc-thousand's shows, and mock battles as the Jade Sword Young Master—overcoming her social anxiety bit by bit.
The accumulated experience had finally hit its limit, propelling her over the wall.
"Wooooaaah!"
"Jade Sword Young Master!!"
As the crowd cheered at the sight of a martial artist achieving enlightenment—a tale they'd only heard of before.
From one corner of the venue, Hong-gae watched the mock battle with a look of utter disbelief.
"...What kind of enlightenment do you get from a scripted fake fight?"
As an ordinary warrior, he couldn't comprehend how someone cultivating demonic arts could enlighten like that.
* * *
Even after the minor incident on opening night, the Hall of Arts enjoyed massive popularity.
Besides mock battles, they taught literacy and instrument playing there too.
Among the lightly addicted villagers, some developed hobbies watching shows or learning music, gradually overcoming their devilweed cravings.
And now, a few more days later.
"Cheap! So cheap!"
"Grab one before you go!"
Pyeongnyang County's market street buzzed with fervor as countless people hawked wares and shouted.
It was all because of the upcoming festival and cooking contest.
Word had spread gradually through hikers and tourists who'd visited Communal Mountain and Pyeongnyang.
The village thrummed with energy, unrecognizable from when they'd first arrived.
Il-mok strolled the market with a satisfied smile, admiring the sight—until a strange sensation made him look down.
A breeze blowing through the market lanes.
Whiiish.
It felt like something was riding the wind.
Flash!
Il-mok unfolded his Silver Swallow Step, darting quickly toward the county office.
Gulp.
He swallowed hard with a tense expression, then cautiously gripped the demon sword's hilt.
He always carried it at his side but had never once swung it. The lingering ghost qi had bothered him.
Shiiiing.
With a chilling metallic ring, the demon sword slid smoothly from its sheath.
Just as Il-mok had expected.
Its edge felt keen enough to slice skin on a mere brush, but the ghost qi was gone.
"Looks like you're satisfied now."
The grudge spirits, who'd fretted over the devilweed-addicted residents, seemed finally at ease seeing the villagers' renewed vitality.
Il-mok gazed at the blade a moment, then gripped it gently and began a sword dance.
To commemorate the spirits' final passing.
As he flowed smoothly through the dance, he felt something odd.
This was clearly the first time swinging it today, yet it fit his hand like a glove—miraculously so.
*...No wonder swordsmen obsess over famed blades.*
Just a few years ago, as a modern man, Il-mok had barely any attachment to swords even after starting swordsmanship.
But now, wielding one that fit perfectly, he couldn't imagine using any other.
"Hoo."
Finishing the light sword dance, Il-mok steadied his breath and drew another nearby sword.
The one he used for training.
Practicing with a demon sword still harboring ghost qi risked a major accident.
Gripping a sword in each hand, Il-mok channeled equal internal energy into both and clashed them.
Claaaang!!!
With a clear ring, one blade snapped cleanly in two.
"...A famed sword is a famed sword, alright."
Muttering that, Il-mok tossed the halved training sword to the ground.
"Hmm. Can't keep calling it the demon sword forever. Time to give it a proper name."
Staring intently at what he'd called the demon sword, Il-mok shrugged lightly and murmured,
"The grudge spirits within have ascended, so Ascension Sword fits."
It doubled as a pun: a sword that could send any foe to the heavens.
Il-mok had slapped a name on it casually, but the Ascension Sword hummed contentedly.
Whiiiing.
Watching it vibrate on its own, Il-mok furrowed his brow slightly.
"...No way some grudge spirit is still hanging around, right?"