Reborn in Goryeo: Rewinding Sixteen Years to the Start
The story begins sixteen years earlier. A young man in the Republic of Korea was grumbling in a café as he sorted through his materials.
"Of all eras, why Goryeo? Hmm. If it were the Joseon era during the Manchu invasion, I could put together something truly epic."
He was researching whether the Choe regime during the Goryeo-Mongol wars had handled the conflicts with the Mongols competently or if they were utterly incompetent. Preparing his debate materials—that was the task he'd been assigned.
"Hmm, what are you up to, young man?"
As he scratched his head furiously and hammered away at his laptop, a white-haired old man plopped down beside him, staring intently.
"I'm researching the Goryeo era."
"Then why all the sighing?"
Who wouldn't sigh with some old guy butting in while he was deep in his research? But he couldn't just shoo him away outright. So, he decided to explain in exhaustive detail, hoping it'd give the geezer a headache.
"It's just... the Resistance against the Mongols is so frustrating. Back during the wars with the Khitans, even after the crushing defeat at Sam-su Channel, tens of thousands of troops held on, harassing from behind, and the fortresses they defended were substantial. But in the Mongol resistance period, thanks to the military regime's incompetence, there was nothing but the Byeolcho Army that could be called a proper force."
He said it with genuine regret, not knowing how the old man might respond. In truth, during the actual Mongol resistance, the Byeolcho Army was the only real army. As the military regime solidified power by suppressing repeated rebellions, their overall forces naturally dwindled. The Choe regime in particular created the Byeolcho for protecting their power and personal safety, and those troops effectively became the regular army—guarding Gangdo or conducting guerrilla warfare throughout the wars. Sure, the military regime had its excuses, but even so, with the Byeolcho—treated as regulars—focused on defending the Ganghwa Island regime during the Mongol invasions, how bad must it have been?
"Hmm, so you think things could have been different?"
Different? Even he wouldn't claim massive changes. The young man thought for a moment and shook his head. No, but at least better than the military regime's response.
"Sure, rebuilding military strength to Khitan war levels would take decades, but even freshly independent Goryeo mobilized 200,000—including peasant levies—against the Red Turban invaders. Why not here?"
There were reasons: repeated internal strife, economic woes, and more. But couldn't they at least conscript local peasants?
"Even so, the Mongol army crushed the Jin's hundreds of thousands. Could Goryeo have pulled it off during the Goryeo-Mongol wars?"
"If push came to shove, gunpowder could give them a shot in open battle, right?"
Cannons or matchlocks weren't miracle weapons, but striking the enemy's flank in one field battle might beat the Mongols. At the very least, the last regular army wouldn't evaporate in the first invasion like in real history.
"Basic gunpowder's doable, and with the know-how, you could develop matchlocks to fight back. But... Korea lacks nitre deposits, and with ties to Song basically severed, would they even supply you?"
For gunpowder, niter beds solved that. Inferior to natural nitre, sure, but adjustable over time.
"Just make niter beds. Harvest continuously, and you're good. Quality might suck, but for Goryeo-era military use, it'd suffice."
Of course, the Mongols were insanely strong. But maybe catch them off guard? At minimum, Korea wouldn't be razed, losing treasures like the Palman Daejanggyeong or the nine-story wooden pagoda at Hwangnyongsa.
That said, even amid the Mongol wars, they reprinted the Palman Daejanggyeong, and later the Sambyeolcho rebellion or Japan invasion saw a thousand ships mobilized. They had national strength aplenty.
"Hmm, want to give it a try?"
"Pardon?"
What the hell? Wait, this old man's eyes gleamed with intense interest. Something felt off. Like he was about to get roped into something? Straight out of a cliché novel.
"I'm offering you a chance."
No, don't. Seriously, don't.
"I'll pass. Gotta finish this assignment."
Something was wrong. His eyes were dead serious, brimming with intent to hurl him into that world.
"Farewell. We'll meet again someday."
"You son of a—"
"Given the era, a few gifts to start you off."
With that, his vision went black. When he opened his eyes again, he—no, she—had been reborn in the Goryeo era. Not the future, but the past: the military regime period, as the daughter of Choi U, eldest son of Choe Chungheon, founder of the Choe regime.
"Life's full of twists, huh."
Sixteen years had passed, but this thought lingered. It matched what the old man said, but he'd never wished for it. Just wanted to finish his assignment, never dreamed of altering Goryeo's fate. Yet here he was, dumped into it. If he met that old man again, he'd prove his fists weren't just for show.
War was still years away, but the Choe regime era meant the Goryeo-Mongol wars loomed. An inescapable national crisis throughout.
As a regent's daughter, she'd want for nothing, lounging on Ganghwa while mainlanders were slaughtered. But could it compare to a modern Korean commoner's diverse cuisine?
"I don't get why you're acting like some old crone."
"That's rude, you know."
"Hate marriage that much? I snuck a peek—the guy from their house is seriously hot. The kind that steals women's hearts."
"Then you marry him."
Why did her maid Chunsim's words grate so much? Dressed in finery and silk—what good was it? Sixteen years in a woman's body left its mark, but she clung to her male identity. Yet Chunsim treated her like a gal pal dolling up for boys.
She'd briefly considered following original history: Choi U's daughter marries Kim Yakseon, cheats with a male servant, gets caught, frames and kills him. Quid pro quo since he fooled around too. Get disowned, cut ties, done. Mental aversion to marrying a man, sure—but physical relations? Pleasure might make it tolerable.
She mulled it over, but it was too extreme. Unavoidable marriage aside, becoming one with historical Choi U's daughter for that? Nah. No scandals either. Only one path: what the old man wanted. Change history.
With over a decade till war, time to try something.
"No choice. Time for the nuclear option."
"Huh?"
"I need to see Father right now."
"He's swamped with state affairs."
"I'm his daughter—what're they gonna do?"
Plus, this was for her sake. Historically, Choi U's daughter mothers the crown princess—Choi Yeon's own daughter, wife to King Wonjong.
Absolutely no way I'm popping out kids just 'cause I'm in this body.
Absolutely not. Born into this era was bad enough—who needed childbirth too? Rack up achievements for free rein.
Strike while the iron's hot. Storming the Gyojeong Dogam where Choi U still ruled, his retainer blocked her.
"Hey, is Father in?"
"Miss, His Excellency is busy with state matters. Later—"
"No chance."
She shoved past the retainer and bolted into Choi U's office. Routine enough that sighs from his guards echoed behind her.
Finding Choi U frowning over scrolls, she switched: eyes sparkling, brimming with fatherly affection, slinking fox-like toward him.
Choi U's frown eased; he set down the scroll, smoothing his hair.
"Busy with affairs of state, yet here you are. What brings you?"
"Father, I have a request."
"Out with it."
"Is there a way I can avoid marriage?"
Marriage. At the word, Choi U rubbed his temple, headache brewing. She'd thrown tantrums for days. Her mother had joked: when whining, she foxed up to Daddy like no one's business.
To dodge marriage, no choice.
"Hate it that much? Goryeo women traditionally seek good husbands."
"I heard Goryeo women have freedom in marriage. Especially your daughter?"
Goryeo women had higher status and freedom than in Joseon. But in a parent-says-jump world, defiance meant squat.
Choi U forced a kind smile.
"Parents say jump, you jump."
"Do you truly want me—your only daughter—to leave and become another man's woman?"
Unpleasant, imagining his precious girl as someone else's. No child matched her in his heart. Sure, sons Manjeon and Manjong from concubine Seoryeonbang existed, but she'd stubbornly saved them from monkhood.
"I cherish you, that's why I chose your groom carefully. Will you live alone forever? As my daughter, you'd lack nothing, but the world's eyes... fingers would point."
She smirked inwardly. Choosing Kim Yakseon as successor, huh? Who'd dare finger-point a regent's daughter? But if Choi U thought so, tough. Final card.
"What if I become your successor?"
Hand on chest, she boldly declared herself heir.