Chapter 3
Shina recalled every detail of her final moments before death.
The words Mugeol had spoken while holding her tightly as she was dying:
“For you… I did all of this…! Please don’t die, miss. I barely became a So Cheonma, and soon I would have reached Cheonma to serve you… Please, miss.”
“‘So Cheonma,’ he said. Right… Mugeol joined the Demon Sect.”
Shina murmured quietly to herself, realizing the truth.
Over 200 years ago, when the reigning Cheonma died without naming a successor, a bloody civil war erupted within the Demon Sect. The new Cheonma, who had crushed everyone with his skill, declared:
“Defeat me, and you will be the next Cheonma.”
From that moment, the sect became a merit-based organization.
“How did gentle Mugeol end up in the cruel Demon Sect?”
The answer came without much thought.
“He said it was for me. To protect me.”
Shina couldn’t fathom the extent of what Mugeol had done.
Mugeol had only traveled to Biwon Pavilion for a short span of two years—from age ten to twelve—and barely interacted with her.
Though Shina had occasionally given him food, it wasn’t because he was special. He was simply an uncommon peer and sometimes brought news from the Pavilion, and she had offered gratitude.
“Come to think of it, shouldn’t he have hated me?”
Being close to Shina had been dangerous for him. Somando had tormented Mugeol simply because he was friendly with her.
“He even got beaten while trying to stop Somando to protect me… almost until his last breath.”
If Mugeol hadn’t left Manhyang Pavilion on his own, he might have died at Mando’s hands.
Reflecting on it, besides killing the green dragon and restoring her circle, Shina realized she owed him far more. She quietly added Mugeol’s name to the list of people she needed to protect.
It was a list known only to her, but she added one reason anyway:
“If he reached the position of So Cheonma in just ten years, he must have talent in martial arts. I’ll train him properly.”
Having organized her thoughts, Shina leapt from her bed and pulled the rope to summon her maid, Danmi.
“Miss, you called? What do you need?”
“It’s been so long since I last saw Danmi.”
Danmi had been one of the few people who had truly cared for Shina.
“I’ll make sure our Danmi is happy too!”
Shina’s cheeks twitched as she restrained her joy, but pretending to be calm, she answered:
“Yes, I need a training uniform. Can you get it?”
“Suddenly a training uniform? I can get it… but why?”
In the Pavilion, children began learning martial arts once they could walk and run. By eight, they received training to become fully-fledged warriors.
But weak Shina had never trained deeply in martial arts or received proper warrior education. At most, she could perform basic internal energy exercises—and even that was interrupted because she often collapsed.
Her father Cheonrim had gone to great lengths to restore her health, procuring countless medicines—but it had been in vain.
Over the years, Cheonrim had poured his life into restoring her health, and all that remained was debt.
“He ran across the Central Plains, neglecting Pavilion duties, borrowing money from grandfather to buy medicine… and got scammed several times.”
Though she loved him, Shina thought her father had been foolish. Observing him, even her grandfather’s patience seemed remarkable.
“Given grandfather’s sharp personality, it’s surprising he kept lending money without collateral.”
But her illness couldn’t be cured by medicine.
“Simma can’t be healed with medicine. Father didn’t even know this… and suffered needlessly.”
When the Grand Mage’s soul awoke in Shina’s body, she retained all memories of her younger self. She understood why this body was sick and that she was no longer in her original world.
Shina’s mother had died giving birth to her. Pavilion members whispered about it whenever they saw her, even when Shina could understand them. Over time, guilt over her mother’s death and taking love from her brother and father weighed heavily on her.
She ate poorly, grew slowly, and her mental and physical illnesses worsened, stiffening her muscles. One illness bred another.
Shina, seeing the tragic life of her ten-year-old self, clicked her tongue in disapproval and spoke to Danmi:
“Just… I need it. Can you get it for me?”
In truth, the illness had vanished when the Grand Mage’s soul entered her body. But in her previous life, Shina had obsessed over regaining her magic and had hardly trained in martial arts. By the time she had tried to live properly, her internal energy barely exceeded that of a ten-year-old.
“This time, I won’t let that happen. And… I need to repay Father’s debts too.”
The Pavilion Lord, So Hyokho, was strict. Though sometimes generous with Biwon Pavilion, his nature hadn’t changed.
“He could demand repayment or pressure the Pavilion at any time.”
Shina needed to regain her health quickly to train, seek revenge on Sobakrim, and repay her father’s debts.
Training was the only solution.
“Whether building mana or internal energy.”
Danmi tilted her head in confusion but nodded without further question. Seeing her dependable maid reminded Shina of her first days in the martial world.
When the Grand Mage awoke in Shina’s body, the lingering Simma vanished, but to outsiders, she had seemed insane: speaking oddly, screaming randomly, overturning food, and behaving recklessly. Danmi had protected her until the soul stabilized.
“Our miss is usually well-behaved! She’s only like this because she’s weak right now. Normally she reads well, eats well—she’s perfect!”
Danmi had even lied to protect Shina from Sobakrim, sending her away. Without her, Shina’s wandering path would have taken even longer to resolve in her previous life.
Shina looked up at Danmi, who, though four years older, towered over her and knelt to meet her eyes.
“Do you have something to say?”
Shina nodded and hugged Danmi tightly.
“…Thank you.”
“Eh?!”
Danmi flinched.
“You haven’t even gotten the uniform yet.”
“Yes. I’ll thank you properly later. Right now, I just want to thank you for staying by my side.”
“Miss…”
Danmi’s voice was moist, and soon Shina’s shoulders were damp too.
“She’s crying too.”
Everyone around Shina had a soft heart, and she didn’t mind.
But there was no time for sentiment.
“Training uniform!”
Shina pushed the tearful Danmi aside and spoke firmly.
“Ah, yes! I’ll get it right away!”
Danmi obeyed without question, and Shina felt a deep fondness for her.
Danmi didn’t bring the uniform until the next day.
“There wasn’t one that fit perfectly, so I had to alter it. Sorry for being late.”
“Thank you.”
Shina quickly changed into the uniform. Danmi helped but glanced curiously, wondering what Shina planned.
Shina took Danmi’s hand.
“I’ll start practicing martial arts, little by little. Alone. Keep it secret for now—Father and brother will worry.”
“Training while your body is weak?”
“I’m fine. I’m healthy. I’m strong now!”
Shina rolled up the sleeves to her shoulders. Her arms were slightly firm, just enough to notice.
Danmi smiled awkwardly. Shina quickly lowered her arms and added:
“I’ll go slowly.”
“How can you train without a teacher? If you tell the Pavilion Lord, he’ll find someone suitable for you.”
“No. Father will oppose it.”
Cheonrim still fainted whenever Shina ran. If she announced training, he’d surely interfere.
“Yeah… that would be a disaster.”
Shina couldn’t show anyone her training. It wasn’t ordinary martial arts she intended to practice.
“I need to test my magic!”
