I'm Going to Become the Top Instructor in Fantasy Land!

The faint light of dawn seeped through the narrow gaps in the iron bars. Thirin opened her eyes on the hard wooden cot. The moment she woke, she muttered whatever words came to mind.

“Craving, corrosion, seventeen, dawn, blast furnace.”

Thirin smiled. So yesterday wasn’t a dream after all. Regaining her ability to speak hadn’t been a hallucination. Yesterday had been the densest day since she’d fallen into this other world. She’d gotten her voice back, dragged Hans off his little throne, and snapped some worthless bastard’s neck… It felt so surreal she almost wondered if it had all been one long night’s dream.

Her side throbbed with pain, but she welcomed it. If this were a dream, there wouldn’t be any pain. Still lying down, Thirin looked around. She was in the temporary detention cell of the Imperial Guard outpost. It had the fancy label of ‘witness to a homicide,’ but it was essentially a prison without iron bars—though she was still locked up all the same.

Thirin slowly sat up. She didn’t particularly mind being confined. Even though they called her a witness, she had roughly expected things to turn out this way. A man had died right in front of a village that clearly had public authority; of course they’d detain her. In fact, the current situation was quite satisfying. Unlike the crude hiding spot outside the village, this place had solid walls and a ceiling that could block wind and raindrops. The rock-hard sleeping surface was a bit of a downside, though.

Besides, here she could avoid the annoying mercenaries and brats picking fights with her. In a way, the jail of civilized society could be considered the safest fortress for Thirin.

Thirin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nodded in satisfaction.

Paying taxes was worth it after all.

She had never paid taxes in this other world before.

“Hmm…”

Thirin shook off the thoughts that threatened her sense of self and slowly reviewed the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠system logs she hadn’t finished checking yesterday. She had realized something from yesterday’s events. The fight with Heres hadn’t been a simple struggle for survival in this other world. Yesterday had carried far more meaning than that.

This wasn’t just some joke phrase. The existence of martial arts that didn’t belong in this barbaric medieval fantasy land was now an undeniable reality.

If martial arts are real…?

Thirin desperately recalled the fragmentary knowledge she’d picked up from martial arts novels. The Jianghu, inner energy, fortuitous encounters… and…

Rebirth (Hwan-gol-tal-tae).

Yes. That was it. To change one’s bones and shed one’s flesh. As far as Thirin remembered, it was something that went beyond mere strength. A realm that fundamentally transformed the body. The moment that thought crossed her mind, a flash of enlightenment shot through her head.

Rebirth was the act of changing the body through enlightenment in martial arts. In other words, the unity of mind and body. Therefore, if Thirin—who possessed a man’s mind inside a woman’s body—achieved Rebirth…

My body will change to match my mind…!

Thirin felt an excitement that bordered on certainty. She had two urgent goals. The first was to return to her original world somehow. But even more important—and perhaps something that had to come first—was her second goal. To regain her original male body.

The terrible sense of loss and disgust in her lower body had not improved at all with time. In that case, there was only one answer. She had to learn martial arts, become stronger, gain enlightenment, and achieve Rebirth.

I need to obtain martial arts.

And she had already taken the first step.

Sun-Shooting Sword.

Houyi's Sun-Shooting Sword was not yet complete. It seemed physical realization alone wasn’t enough to finish a martial art. Well, even in the martial arts novels Thirin had skimmed, you apparently needed some kind of enlightenment to properly use the techniques.

But how was she supposed to obtain Simdeuk?

Thirin looked up at the system log.

Understanding of others increases Simdeuk? So was she supposed to become a psychotherapist or something?

The only time Thirin had gained Simdeuk was when she’d been mocking Heres. She let out a sigh.

Heres, you useless piece of trash. If you were going to die anyway, you should’ve at least left me some proper enlightenment.

The only “enlightenment” Heres had left behind was the fact that he possessed something so small it was hard to grab with his own hand. Still, it was fortunate she had at least gained the basics of the Sun-Shooting Sword through physical realization. She had originally been thinking of just punching, biting, and eye-gouging.

“...!”

Thirin suddenly realized something.

Goddamn it, it’s called the Sun-Shooting Sword. The name literally has “sword” in it. So I was supposed to use a blade instead of punching?

No wonder using the technique once had nearly broken her wrist—it was an absurd thing to do. This disaster had happened because Thirin lacked knowledge. Well, in that situation, there hadn’t exactly been a convenient sword lying around anyway.

But then there was something she still didn’t understand. If the Sun-Shooting Sword was a sword technique, why could she use it with punches?

So the important part isn’t the sword itself?

“....”

The system messages really did pop up whenever they felt like it. While Thirin was examining the system, a new message suddenly appeared.

Thirin was dumbfounded. She had just been sitting there thinking, and now the system was spouting nonsense.

“Witch my ass…”

At Thirin’s mutter, the guard who had been watching her trembled. Thirin had become a celebrity known even to the Imperial Guard. But she wasn’t just any idol—she was a reverse idol. Instead of drooling over her, the guard swallowed hard and averted his eyes.

To the young guard’s eyes, the sight of her murmuring while staring into empty space looked incredibly eerie.

Is she crazy…? No, she was already crazy, but has she gone even crazier?

In the empire’s frontier, it wasn’t uncommon to see corpses that hadn’t died of natural causes. There were cases caused by beasts, demonic creatures, barbarians, or evil god worshippers. Sometimes mercenaries simply killed each other. But even a guard who had seen many corpses had rarely encountered anything as grotesque as Heres’s body. A neck twisted completely around so only the back of the head was visible.

The guard shivered again. That insane beggar woman who had been giggling in front of the grotesquely twisted corpse. No, he could no longer think the term “insane beggar woman” was even appropriate anymore.

He had overheard Commander Roderick speaking gravely with his lieutenant. If that beggar woman had been under some kind of curse and it had been lifted…

Could she really be a witch…?

Meanwhile, in the detachment commander’s office, Roderick was rubbing his bloodshot eyes and suffering from a headache. On his desk lay a brief report of last night’s incident along with the autopsy results of Heres’s corpse.

Roderick had already roughly grasped the flow of events. He had known that the trash called Heres would cause problems. The man already had a record of assaulting the tavern girl Merye and constantly stirred up all sorts of trouble. Moreover, the evidence at the scene was clear. Heres’s bloodstained sword and the traces of the blessing he had used.

It was obvious that the beggar… the unidentified woman had been stabbed first. She had probably counterattacked while impaled. Actually, even the part about her being stabbed wasn’t entirely certain.

If she had really been stabbed by a sword, she shouldn’t have been that fine. But Thirin hadn’t allowed them to check her wounds, and Roderick couldn’t force her.

Combat ability: unmeasurable. Mental state: extremely unstable… or completely unpredictable.

Roderick set the report down and pressed hard on his temples. Just what the hell was that woman? An unidentified beggar. The only thing they had learned was the name she had given herself. Unidentified people weren’t exactly rare in a frontier pioneering village. War orphans, escaped slaves, fallen nobles… people hiding their own stories drifted in all the time.

But among them, that woman was special. That strength? That blood? That bizarre laughter last night?

“Commander.”

At that moment, a subordinate entered the office and carefully reported.

“Commander, the events of last night have spread throughout the entire village. It’s already public knowledge that the beggar—no, the witness—killed a mercenary.”

Roderick frowned. He had expected as much.

“What about the mercenary group?”

“The atmosphere at their camp is ugly. It looks like they’ll make a move soon.”

As expected. There was no way the mercenaries would let this slide. Their pride would never accept the fact that their vice-leader had been killed by some beggar woman. In principle, this case clearly fell under the Imperial Guard’s jurisdiction. But Roderick knew the reality of this frontier village all too well. The empire’s control didn’t reach this far properly, and the mercenary group dispatched under the pretext of subjugating demonic creatures was practically an uncontrollable armed faction. Especially recently, with the delay in subjugation payments, their dissatisfaction had reached its peak.

In such a situation, would they obediently hand over the woman who had killed their vice-leader to the Guard? Absolutely not. But could the outpost’s forces stop them? On the other hand, if he yielded to the mercenaries’ pressure and handed her over, the Guard’s authority would collapse and he would be held accountable for dereliction of duty.

Most of all, there was no way that unidentified woman would meekly comply. If he considered the abilities the so-called “witness” was hiding, it was possible the entire outpost might get wiped out instead.

“Damn it…”

A low curse slipped from Roderick’s mouth. He was completely stuck with no good options. A painful morning was dawning.

Knock knock.

Along with the sound of knocking, the lieutenant carefully opened the door and entered.

“Commander. A priest from the Savior Cult has come to see you.”

From the end of the corridor came the sound of familiar footsteps.

Creak.

With the sound of rusty iron hinges, the detention cell door opened. The guard who opened it glanced inside, then gave a light bow to the old man who appeared and closed the door again. It was Peter.

“A visit? Old man, do you have connections in the Guard or something?”

Thirin sneered, sitting on the edge of the cot. It was unexpected. She hadn’t thought they would allow a witness in a murder case to receive visitors so easily. Then again, old man Peter did have something about him that set him apart from ordinary people.

Peter looked at Thirin with open pity.

“You certainly have a rather extreme way of enjoying festivals.”

“What are you talking about?”

“From what I hear, you didn’t even get any free drinks. So you crawled in here completely sober? Did you find a new hobby instead of bathing in mud puddles?”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

At those words, Thirin’s eyes grew nostalgic.

“…I once dreamed of becoming a civil servant.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“I wanted to suck on the sweet honey under the warm roof of public power. Since I’ve managed to achieve that dream like this, I’d say it worked out well.”

Peter clicked his tongue.

“To think prison life is good… I didn’t realize living as a beggar was that hard.”

“Old man. These days the trend is to privately make use of cozy and quiet spaces by utilizing public power. And that mud bath was part of my skin care routine.”

Thirin looked at Peter with pitying eyes.

“It’s truly sad how you fall behind the times as you age.”

Peter nodded with a serious face.

“Even if I fall behind the times, I’ll pass on the wild-dog-style beauty treatments. You can do plenty of that yourself.”

Thirin glared at him, but Peter only shrugged. He took a bundle from his pocket and held it out to her.

“Here, take it. Miss Martha insisted I give this to you.”

The fragrant smell of bread stimulated Thirin’s hunger. Peter waited until she had finished off one whole loaf before speaking again.

“Anyway, I heard the story. You snapped that mercenary bastard’s neck. They’ll come looking for revenge. What do you plan to do now?”

“....”

Thirin thought for a moment before answering.

“Let them come. I can just open a lecture.”

Peter asked back, looking dumbfounded.

“A lecture? What are you talking about?”

“A neck-twisting lecture. It’s perfect for rapists who come charging in for revenge, isn’t it?”

Thirin spoke indifferently.

“Once their heads spin a full circle, they might come back to their senses.”

At the thought that followed, Thirin smiled. A rough outline of what she should do from now on had formed in her head. She would use this opportunity to get rid of that disgusting mercenary group, make those ridiculous Guard bastards owe her a debt, and then collect the payment.

It’ll help me get to the capital.

Thinking that, Thirin smiled brightly.