It Was Summer
Thirin's charm stat was 180. Masked, it dropped to 90. Out of a hundred men, ninety would feel romantic attraction toward her. The soldiers were no exception, of course. But actually approaching her was terrifying.
Thirin wasn't some common ice-queen beauty who acted cold and lofty. She was a crazy beauty who blazed like wildfire gone mad. A complete lunatic. The Imperial Army had plenty of rough customers. They rotated through frontier duty, and more than a few had experience subjugating demonic beasts or fighting barbarians. If she'd been an ordinary beauty—even one with the same masked charm value of 90—these hardened soldiers would've tossed out their usual vulgar teasing without hesitation.
But Thirin was something entirely outside their experience. The veterans didn't even know how to deal with her. She was a type of person they'd never encountered before and would likely never meet again. So instead of making a direct move, they tried to drag things out and at least talk to her. After all, who knew what kind of "gender reassignment surgery specialist" wrath might descend on them if they pushed their luck. Though for some, that particular threat might actually have been a bonus.
As a result, these bearded Imperial soldiers had their mental ages forcibly reduced to that of middle-school boys. Just like awkward teenagers, they were poking at the girl they liked with petty spite, desperately hoping for attention. Thirin's overwhelming beauty and unhinged behavior had turned them all into children.
Still, you shouldn't look down on the Imperial soldiers too harshly. Unattainable longing just does that to people. Everyone has experienced it. To scorn that behavior is to deny part of yourself—an act against humanity. Of course, the part where these soldiers secretly collected the hair Thirin submitted for inspections, sometimes even trading it among themselves (treating her beautiful, unscathed appearance like some protective talisman), was a genuinely vile, filthy, and utterly deserving-of-death act.
“They deserve to die!”
Thirin was absolutely losing it.
“These bastards deliberately made me stand at the gate just to steal my hair? Captain. What do you think about this... this perverted behavior? How do you feel about these Imperial soldiers committing such a refined and honorable act of stealing a woman's hair? Hm?”
“.....”
The captain looked like his head was about to split from the migraine.
“I... I'll handle it properly... Please, just leave for today...”
“No. Not until you compensate me for every single hair I've lost so far.”
“...What do you want?”
Thirin snarled through gritted teeth.
“Exemption from weapons inspection. Make sure those... those idiots can't pull this crap anymore.”
“Understood. I'll make it happen. So now, if you could just...”
“Hmph!”
Only after Thirin had stormed back into the castle did the security captain finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
“Hoo...”
He shot a glare at the frozen soldiers, then spoke to his adjutant.
“Return their gear. By tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the soldiers had been dragged away, the captain collapsed into his chair. The sky itself looked yellow.
“Captain.”
A young officer standing nearby spoke up in a disapproving tone.
“Are you really just letting that woman go like this?”
He was a strict new appointee who had arrived recently.
“We should revoke her bounty hunter license and confiscate her pass. No matter how much of a criminal she is, this is clearly abuse of authority. If we allow someone who acts purely on emotion like this to run wild, who knows what kind of incident she'll cause next...”
“Klaus.”
The captain cut him off wearily.
“I don't think you looked into that woman's eyes.”
“...I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, sir.”
As expected from a young noble brat—he didn't know anything. But the captain understood.
Thirin wasn't simply acting on emotion. There had been conviction in her eyes. A belief forged from direct, personal experience. Thirin was absolutely certain that pain was the path to redemption and repentance. Her eyes had said she'd learned that truth the hard way.
That's how it looked to the captain, at least.
What exactly did she go through at such a young age?
What Thirin had experienced was throwing herself off a cliff while endlessly affirming the idiotic thought, This is all a dream.
“Captain?”
The captain snapped out of his thoughts.
“That isn't an ordinary pass you can just confiscate. That woman carries a pass personally guaranteed by the Imperial Army. Refrain from any further unnecessary comments.”
“But that's not the only problem. The captured men all keep giving the same statement, calling her a wi—”
“Never say the word witch again. That's an order.”
“...Understood.”
The newcomer reluctantly shut his mouth. Watching him, the captain swallowed a bitter laugh. The young officer's words were something he had already verified long ago.
The captain recalled the past. Ever since Thirin first appeared in this city, every wanted criminal she dragged in had spouted similar nonsense.
‘She's a witch. That woman is definitely a witch!’
‘She kills people with strange curses! Just spitting out insults drives men insane!’
‘It's cursed blood! Just touching it makes your whole body rot!’
‘When she spat on steel it melted instantly! She must be a shapeshifted demonic beast!’
‘She shows hallucinations! Uses evil sorcery that multiplies a single person into dozens!’
‘Witch... witch...! Witch!!!!!’
There was even a sinister rumor that she'd driven one vicious criminal to suicide just by talking to him.
At first, the captain thought they were the usual lies criminals told to reduce their sentences. But the statements had an eerie consistency. The more he investigated, the more common factors emerged.
There was clearly something different about that woman.
So the captain had conducted an unofficial investigation. Using the inquiry as pretext, he detained Thirin for several days and secretly requested an appraisal from the city's Pantheon Temple. The priests' reactions had been strange.
“No.”
They had declared it firmly. They sensed none of the evil aura that witches or cultists gave off. Under normal circumstances, that should've been the end of it. But the priests had all been visibly irritated. It wasn't the summons that bothered them—it was as if they were angry at being shown something so unpleasant. Every single one had snapped that they were never to be called again.
When the captain had pressed one of them for the reason, the priest never explained. But he had made one thing clear: she was not something sinister.
There was nothing more the captain could do. Come to think of it, the priests of the Pantheon Temple seemed to have grown far more ill-tempered than when he was young. Most old men grew more generous with age, yet these priests only seemed to become more eccentric and narrow-minded as time passed.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, a piercing scream tore through the air from the direction of the infirmary. It was the castrated man who'd been carried in on a stretcher earlier. The captain let out a deep sigh.
“...Redo the emergency treatment. She probably already did it, but just to be sure.”
“They're all going to die anyway, aren't they?”
“Keep them alive until we decide to kill them.”
“Understood.”
It was a headache, but today at least, there probably wouldn't be any more problems.
Probably.
Your actions have strengthened the effect of the title Witch!
The Witch's notoriety is spreading!
Male beings hostile to you will feel an inexplicable, primal fear!
Meanwhile, the moment Thirin passed through the castle gates, she completely deflated.
She was in Lutetia, one of the Empire's northern frontier cities. She still had a long way to go before reaching the capital of Aquila. The city's level of civilization was better than the backwater village where she'd first appeared, but it still felt somehow inadequate for a proper early-modern setting. Still, it was slightly better than the Middle Ages. At least the beer was cold.
The instant she entered the city, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit her. Thirin postponed even collecting her bounty at the guild and headed straight for the most decent-looking tavern nearby. She ordered a mug of beer, then immediately planted her face on the outdoor table and stayed there. She didn't even feel like drinking.
Her leather pants clung to her body, accentuating the smooth, long curves of her legs and boots. The perfect lines of her lower body. Her decadently glossy black hair spilled carelessly across the table. Thirin's sharp senses could detect the people around her swallowing hard as they stole glances, but she didn't care. She couldn't care.
Unlike her rampage at the gate, she was now suffering from an extreme case of post-action cringe.
“....”
It was so bad she couldn't even react to the system message. She didn't have the energy to respond.
Thirin had fallen into a kind of manic-depressive state. The past year flashed before her eyes like a panorama.
The beginning had been fine. Parting with Peter had been sad, but Thirin had a clear goal: Rebirth. She would go to the capital and somehow restore this wretched body to its proper form. As she traveled through new villages and cities, she used her skills to earn money. There was no shortage of work.
The Imperial Army was far too small to manage its vast territory. They could outsource major incidents to mercenary companies, but the sheer volume of minor tasks made it impossible for the army to handle them directly. So they invited guilds to set up branches everywhere, and those guilds were thriving. Tiny goblin dens sprouting like mushrooms. Kobold packs digging tunnels and stealing livestock. Exterminating these small-scale threats was usually left to adventurers registered with the guilds.
But there were jobs of a different caliber. Murder, robbery, human trafficking... matters too procedurally complicated for the Imperial Army to handle directly, yet too dangerous and vile for ordinary adventurers. The guilds placed bounties on these heinous criminals and, after certain qualification tests, granted the professional hunters the rather fancy label of "bounty hunter."
Thirin, possessing the true spirit of a Korean who preferred quick progression, naturally chose high risk, high return. And for Thirin, the word "risk" didn't really exist. Because she wouldn't die. It was the kind of unfair trade that deserved a visit from the Fair Trade Commission, but back in her beloved homeland, the powerful had always lived that way. In that sense, Thirin possessed the mindset of a traditionalist, eager to inherit and develop her homeland's beautiful cultural traditions even in this barbaric land.
Anyway, while working as a bounty hunter—earning money, beating people up, and sometimes killing them—Thirin had been making her way toward the Imperial capital at an extremely leisurely pace.
The problem was martial arts. There had been no progress at all. Through a combination of physical realization and mental comprehension she'd learned the basics of several techniques, but she couldn't advance any further. It felt like she'd slammed into a massive wall. Not only was Rebirth nowhere in sight, she couldn't even find a clue to advance her martial arts a single stage.
Something was missing. A crucial element. But no matter how hard she thought, Thirin couldn't figure out what it was.
Slightly discouraged, she decided to put Peter's teachings into practice for a while. Right. If you accepted someone's goodwill, you should also know how to return the favor. She resolved to repay the unconditional kindness Peter had shown her by giving back to this world.
By thoroughly cleaning up the trash on the streets.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—this primitive, rootless fantasy land had trash absolutely everywhere. The garbage spread like mold in the shadows where the Empire's administrative power couldn't reach, multiplying the moment you looked away. The variety was impressive too. From pathetic punks blocking roads and demanding tolls to unforgivable felons.
But even cleaning up trash had its limits. The fact that her martial arts showed no progress continued to build up frustration. Every time she cleaned up some garbage and removed a few tumors from society, the frustration would subside for a moment, but it was never a fundamental solution.
Extreme excitement could only last so long. Once it subsided, the ensuing crash was equally endless. She was like gunpowder. The moment of explosion was intense and hot but brief, while the unpleasant smell lingered for a long time. Thirin felt like her current state was nothing but the burnt-out ashes left behind.
Maybe life was like that. Once the fire caught, it burned however it wanted, then died out in an instant, leaving only embers that lingered for a long time. And the cycle repeated.
Then came the system message.
Through contemplation and insight, you have grasped the principles of Martial Arts with your heart!
Acquisition conditions for Samadhi True Fire have been partially fulfilled!
“....You've got to be kidding me.”
Samadhi True Fire. She didn't know exactly what it was, but it was martial arts. It didn't seem like something she could use right now.
“!”
But Samadhi True Fire made something click in Thirin's mind.
Samadhi True Fire. Fire. Flame. Fireball.
“....!!!!”
Thirin finally realized.
“The murim guys...!”
The murim guys didn't just swing swords well. They wrapped their blades in some kind of energy that could cut through steel and caused all sorts of chaos. That was why there was no such thing as armor in the martial world.
Only now did Thirin understand what had been missing. She didn't know how to handle qi—internal energy!
“.....”
She almost fell into despair again but quickly pulled herself together. Right. This was a chaotic fantasy world where magic, spirits, and divine blessings all jumbled together. There had to be something that could substitute for or resemble internal energy. This wasn't just mental victory talking. The best proof was Thirin's own martial arts.
The source of her martial arts—the system called Martial Arts in Fantasy Land (provisional)—took the magic, holy power, mysteries, and techniques of this fantasy land and converted them through a 'wuxia' filter. Sharpness, hardness, fluidity. Heres's swift thrust had become 'sharpness,' Gordo's brutish strength had become 'hardness,' and Bjorn's dizzying illusion sword had become 'fluidity.' It took certain characteristics from the original techniques and accepted them in the form of martial arts.
Since her martial arts existed, there had to be an 'original' source somewhere that could create the internal energy she lacked. Thirin's eyes sparkled.