Reasons to Grow Stronger. Reasons to Live.
Why she had to grow stronger. Why she had to live on.
Flap, flap.
A carrier pigeon fluttered in through the open window. The woman who saw it untied the letter bound to its leg.
She read the message for a long while, then bit her lip. Once again, she had been made to feel her own helplessness.
The letter from her main family was quite lengthy, but it could be summed up in a single line.
'The Wang Clan has requested that we join hands with them.'
Ordinarily, her family should have dismissed such a request outright. But the fact that it had passed through their scrutiny and been relayed all the way to her meant one thing: it warranted serious consideration.
How on earth had things come to this?
From the time of Wang Geon, the founding king of Goryeo, her main family had served as the royal guard, generation after generation, carrying that legacy unbroken down to the present day. But ever since the coup, far from protecting the king, they could no longer even protect themselves.
When Choe Chunghon had eliminated Yi Uimin, they had actually been filled with hope — hope that now, at last, they could properly attend the king again. Who could have imagined that Choe Chunghon would prove to be the worse monster of the two?
Her family — the Shin Clan of Pyeongsan — had held a station within the royal palace, yet Choe Chunghon had driven them out without ceremony. And for the absurd reason that they might dare to assassinate the king.
That was why she was here now, attending the king in the form of a temporary dispatch. Considering that, before the coup, the Shin Clan's warriors had formed their own dedicated guard unit, the present reality was a humbling one.
"Father. Even so, this cannot be right."
Joining hands with the Wang Clan, of all families. There was no way they would do it out of pure loyalty to Goryeo alone. They surely had their eyes on something, which was precisely why they had reached out first.
The woman bit down so hard on her lip that blood nearly beaded. This, too, was entirely because she was powerless. If Choe Chunghon's assassination had succeeded back then, she wouldn't be agonizing over things like this at all.
Shin Arin, the Young Lady of the Shin Clan, wiped away the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes and strode out of the room. She had to speak with His Majesty before Choe Chunghon caught wind of the pigeon's arrival.
On her way to Wang Yeong's quarters, she soon found herself granted an audience. The king sat slumped in his chair, his face worn with exhaustion.
Hooo.
He heaved one sigh after another, dragged a hand down his face, and finally called to her.
"I was given to understand that someone else would be standing guard today."
Reading the displeasure threaded through that brief sentence, Shin Arin hurried to speak.
"A letter has arrived from the main family, Your Majesty."
"What was that?"
Wang Yeong, who had looked utterly drained only moments before, reacted at once. His face brightened considerably as he asked,
"Well then. What did the head of your clan have to say?"
With no power base of his own left within the court, Wang Yeong had turned his eyes outward in search of support.
Of the Six Great Clans, he pinned his hopes especially on the Shin Clan, the one that still faithfully served the Goryeo royal house. And so the news Shin Arin carried could only gladden him.
Knowing his heart, Shin Arin could not bring herself to open her mouth right away. Her family had gone to such lengths to send word under Choe Chunghon's nose — only for the reply to be nothing more than a proposal to join hands with those who might usurp the throne.
When she hesitated without answering, Wang Yeong's brow creased slightly.
"What is it? Does your clan find it difficult to help me?"
"That is..."
"Speak plainly, and fret not. My expectations were never so high as that."
Wang Yeong leaned back into his chair again. With an apologetic heart, Shin Arin finally forced the words out.
"...The clan head suggests... joining hands with the Wang Clan."
She braced herself for an outburst of royal displeasure. And small wonder — this went beyond a simple refusal to help. It was something else entirely.
"Hmm."
But Wang Yeong showed no great reaction. If anything, he seemed to have anticipated even this, stroking his beard again and again as he sank into thought.
By the time cold sweat beaded on Shin Arin's brow, the king finally spoke.
"I am in favor."
"Your Majesty?"
In favor? Surely His Majesty could not be unaware of the possibility of usurpation. Thinking as much, Shin Arin jolted upright. Unable to say such a thing to a king's face, he was speaking around it.
Seeing her reaction, Wang Yeong smiled faintly.
"I am no fool, you know. But as things stand, I will be deposed before long regardless."
Wang Yeong spoke calmly of his own deposition, yet Shin Arin nearly toppled over in shock. She could never have imagined hearing the word deposed fall so easily from a king's own lips.
Feeling anew just how wrong this kingdom had become, she squeezed her eyes shut.
"You already knew, didn't you? With Chunghon's assassination having failed, this outcome was all but written."
His voice was a blend of resignation and sorrow as Wang Yeong continued.
"When I am deposed, some royal relative I have never once met will take the throne. And do you truly believe such a king could steer this realm out of its present straits?"
"..."
Shin Arin had no answer. Nothing would change with a new king on the throne. He would be toyed with by the Choe family all the same.
"The throne will change hands either way. It is only right that it pass to someone who will follow his own convictions, unswayed by others."
Realizing he was speaking of Wang Inho, the patriarch of the Wang Clan, Shin Arin clenched her fists. So tightly that her nails bit into her palms hard enough to nearly tear the skin.
Her lips trembling with helplessness, she spoke.
"Then... shall we summon the head of the Wang Clan to the palace?"
"No. If we do that, Choe Chunghon will pile every crime imaginable onto Wang Inho and move against him."
Caught off guard by that, Shin Arin blinked. It was obvious in hindsight — Choe Chunghon would never simply stand by and watch Wang Inho become king.
"My abdication will come only after everything is settled. Only then can we ensure that what happened this time never happens again."
With that, Wang Yeong added that until then, he must not be deposed.
"Now go. Deliver my will to your clan."
At those resolute words, Shin Arin steadied her own heart as well.
That night.
A single carrier pigeon lifted into the moonlight, winging its way toward the Shin Clan estate.
Two weeks had passed since the team battle ended. Thanks to finishing it in first place, I'd been granted instruction from Wang Yeomsu.
But to put it bluntly, it was a waste of effort.
He gave me a single once-over and declared there was nothing to teach me. For a moment I almost shot back, Is it acceptable to shortchange your own nephew? — but I barely managed to hold my tongue.
Still, the Counter-Instinct had triggered during the team battle and my skills had shot up enormously, so what else could I do but be satisfied?
It was strange, but my internal energy had grown too. I had no idea why. I even wondered if I'd absorbed some of the power of the Protective Divine Pill and examined myself, but there was no real difference to be found.
Either way — good news is good news. I just chalked it up as one more stroke of fortune and let it go.
The ones who actually profited were Hanmuk and Seonwoo.
The two of them had worked hard enough to deserve their gains, so they latched onto Wang Yeomsu and peppered him with questions about everything.
Wang Yeomsu, it turned out, had been watching them closely, and he pointed out their flaws without missing a beat.
Hanmuk's strengths were his quick footwork and swift blade — but that came with heavy energy expenditure, so he was advised to make his movements smaller.
As for Seonwoo, he apparently tensed up too easily, which kept the Wind-Wind Sword Art from showing its true worth.
Still, his and Wang Yeomsu's assessments of that wind-something sword art — mine included — matched exactly. It was a fine martial art.
In other words, its potential alone outstripped even Hanmuk's.
And Rani...
What on earth is she, anyway?
She looked like she barely knew the first thing about martial arts, yet she single-handedly swept through two whole squads.
Then again, recalling how she'd pounded everyone into an equal paste with her bare fists, I supposed she had to be counted as deeply versed in fist arts.
Incidentally, when Wang Yeomsu approached to offer her advice, Rani darted behind me to hide. The slightly wounded look on his face was rather entertaining.
For the two weeks after that, Wang Yeomsu visited the Flag Bearer Corps regularly as an instructor. The martial art we learned was the basic curriculum for flag bearers, which was of little real use.
Think of it as experience gained before moving on to the good arts later — the senior trainees, Seolha included, were already learning considerably impressive techniques.
So lately I'd been focusing less on martial arts and more on study. Thirteen years into this reincarnation, and I still knew far too little about this country called Goryeo.
Determined to at least master the basics, I was devouring books I'd never even touched in my past life. These days I carried books around more often than a sword.
And so my days passed by, full and steady — until one problem arose.
The problem was that I was bored out of my mind.
"Ugh, aaagh! I want to go outside!"
I had spent a full thirteen years cooped up in the family estate. And since joining the Flag Bearer Corps, I'd lived nowhere but here. It was enough to drive me stir-crazy.
And I was supposed to keep this up for another four years?
Just as I was thrashing about on my bed, wallowing in self-pity —
"Young Lord!"
Seolha's voice carried from a distance. I opened the window with a what now? and found her waving both hands wildly, calling up to me.
"An assignment came in for you, Young Lord!"
An assignment? As far as I knew, we only started receiving assignments a year after enlistment. I hadn't hit the one-year mark yet, which meant I shouldn't be eligible.
But Seolha wouldn't joke about something like this, so I changed my clothes and went outside.
"What assignment, all of a sudden?"
"The Black Tortoise Pavilion Master asked us to take on a security detail at Byeokrando."
The Black Tortoise Pavilion Master — someone I'd only brushed past a few times in passing. Why me?
"But honestly? It's basically just a trip to have fun. From what I heard, the Clan Lord is sending you to broaden your horizons."
Ah. Fair enough, really. If the Young Lord grew into a full-grown man without knowing a thing about the world, the scandal would be catastrophic.
The outside world. It's been a while.
I asked Seolha to come along, but she shot me down on the spot.
"You know I'm busy. I'm a senior officer now."
"Ahem."
I'd wanted to take her along — partly to make up for the misunderstanding I'd caused before, partly as an outing — so it was a shame.
"But thank you for asking. Let's see each other again before bed tonight, okay?"
"Right. Good work. Get home safe."
Seolha and I took separate classes, and we were each busy in our own way, so it wasn't easy to find time together.
That was why, every single night, we made sure to see each other once before sleeping.
How long has it been since I felt something this sweet? — I was turning the memory over when I realized no such memory surfaced at all.
The me of my past life. What on earth did I even do back then?
Never to have known something this precious. Honestly, it was a blessing I died.
It'd be awkward to go alone. Maybe I'll take the kids along.
By "the kids" I meant Hanmuk, Seonwoo, and Rani. We'd grown a bit closer since the team battle, so it might be nice to travel together.
Deciding I'd bring it up tomorrow, I threw myself into sword training until nightfall. I was working to forge a new sword art built upon the Twice-Returned Stance.
The Twice-Returned Stance was, by design, a kind of secret technique — blocking a nearly unblockable attack a single time, then instantly answering with a counter. But I had reinterpreted the stance not as a technique, but as a phenomenon in its own right.
The result: as in the team battle, I could now channel not the stance itself but its underlying principle into my blade, and chain it strike after strike.
And this was my gut telling me — if this sword art reached completion, it would likely become my mainstay.
I swung until counting the strikes lost all meaning, and the sky gradually darkened. The servants bustled about lighting lanterns to hold back the night. I lowered my sword.
Once all the lanterns were lit, Seolha would come up the path before long. I brushed the training grime from my clothes and straightened myself up — at minimum, no longer looking like a beggar — and kept my eyes fixed on the direction she always came from. Sure enough, her figure soon appeared.
Hair white as fresh snow, in keeping with her name. Eyes tinged with blue that conjured a sense of mystery. And the lotus-shaped hair ornament that stood out all the more strikingly against that white hair.
Catching sight of that ornament, the memory of our first meeting came flooding back. Back then, I genuinely thought she was a lunatic.
Now, there was no one on earth who compared to a fairy.
"Why are you staring like that? Did I get something on my clothes?"
"No. Just — you're beautiful."
"Hehe. What's gotten into you?"
"Finished with work?"
"Yes. When I skipped the Flag Bearer Corps out of embarrassment over you, who could have dreamed I'd still be paying for it this far down the line?"
There had been a period when Seolha was too mortified to show her face at the corps because of me. The aftermath had apparently been substantial.
"Well, that's only because you wouldn't come out, isn't it—"
Whoa.
I had no choice but to stop mid-sentence. Seolha's small, pretty hand had arrived inches from my nose. I curled my body into a ball, bracing to take the hit as painlessly as possible. But the pain never came.
Swoosh. Swoosh.
"?"
"Have you eaten?"
What's with you? You're scaring me. Just smack me like you usually do.
When I cracked my eyes open and peeked, Seolha chuckled at my antics.
"What's with that face? Relax your expression."
And with that, her hand — full of affection — began roaming freely over my face. What was this? This feeling?
A warmth I had never once known in either of my lives — the past one or this one.
Seolha, her eyes brimming with tenderness, sighed softly and said,
"You skipped meals again for training, didn't you? What's the point of training yourself into ruin? Take better care of yourself."
Ah.
Her words struck home like a blade between my ribs. What's the point of training? What was I training for, really?
Because I wanted to keep pursuing the training I'd left unfinished in my past life. Because it galled me that the talent called Counter-Instinct had gone to waste.
For those reasons, I had set out to master technique after technique. But not once had I ever thought: I must grow stronger.
There had been no need to. I only had to learn the family's arts in this life and settle the regrets of the last. That was all I'd ever told myself.
But now — my thinking had changed. A reason to grow stronger had been born, right at this very moment.
If enemies came swarming in, just as they had in my past life — could I protect Seolha? That was a question I would have to ask the future me, the me standing in the moment it happened.
And that future me would have to answer without a shred of doubt. Of course I can.
"Thank you."
"Hm? For what?"
I pulled her into a tight embrace and said,
"Just... I've found a reason to live."
And so —
thank you.
