Not long after I’d regressed, I often couldn’t sleep.
Some nights, I stayed awake until dawn, and others, I pushed myself to the brink of collapse, forcing myself to faint just to get any rest. It was impossible otherwise—every time I closed my eyes, the memories from before my regression haunted me, turning my nights into endless nightmares.
The faces of those I’d killed.
Those I couldn’t save.
Those who’d died for me.
They all returned in my dreams, over and over, until I woke, drenched in cold sweat, unable to catch my breath.
And when I finally could breathe again, I buried my face in my pillow and cried, cursing myself for my continued weakness despite the chance I’d been given. The supposed gift of regression seemed wasted on someone as helpless as me.
How could I ever feel happiness, knowing I was still that same person? Nothing had changed.
That sense of nothingness haunted me, and I stumbled through my days aimlessly, burdened by the weight of it all. I spent my time merely existing, a hollow shell going through the motions. The martial arts I tried to recover felt empty without purpose.
What was the point of this regression?
In those early days, I clung to the hope that perhaps, somehow, there was a meaning to it. I wished for it to matter. I hoped, prayed that this second chance would lead to something, but I never found it.
The world, it turned out, wasn’t so simple.
So, I just went with the flow of time. I tried various things here and there, but never too fervently. The passions I’d once had seemed distant, though there had been a time, in my youth, when I dreamt of standing alongside the world’s greatest talents. But that was long ago.
Even if I still had that potential, I didn’t want to attract attention. Seeing the faces of those people, imagining myself standing beside them—it felt wrong. I still had a shred of conscience, it seemed.
I didn’t start out wanting to prevent the Blood Demon’s resurgence or anything noble like that. My initial plan was to live a quiet, unnoticed life. Maybe even hide in some remote mountains.
That was how I intended to live. At least, that’s what I’d thought.
But somewhere along the way, I changed.
I sometimes wondered when that change happened. Was it the day I met Wi Seol-ah in the small village right after my regression? Or when I crossed paths with Namgung Bi-ah on my way to Sichuan?
All these events seemed pivotal, yet I knew the true turning point was when I met Tang So-yeol.
It was nothing special at first—just a seed. But when I saw Tang So-yeol’s clear, untainted eyes and stood alongside her, Namgung Bi-ah, and Wi Seol-ah, I felt a difference from my previous life, a shift in the air.
Then, when I defeated Namgung Cheonjun, a spark ignited within me. Perhaps I could indeed change. Slowly, that idea took root.
As more events unfolded, I met people like Shin Noya and Je Gal-hyuk, who, along with others, made me believe that I could alter the course of things through my efforts.
That small hope turned into a flame, and that flame grew into something brighter and stronger, revealing the once-hidden desire within me. During the martial arts tournament, I showed my strength, not only to claim everything Jang Seon-yeon desired but also out of my own fervent longing to be recognized, to prove my worth.
As time passed, my encounters with powerful figures like the Blood Demon and Yeon Ilcheon only fueled my desire to end the cycle of bloodshed, my resolve solidifying further. I came to accept that my current life was a fresh start, distinct from my past.
And so, I believe the moment that set all this in motion was that initial meeting with Tang So-yeol.
Because of that realization, I came to understand why Tang So-yeol posed such a difficult dilemma for me.
It’s complicated.
On one hand, her martial prowess isn’t extraordinary, and she lacks any particular talents. Still, knowing she rose to the rank of Poison Queen in my previous life made me believe she had some hidden potential.
If this current crisis were tied to her destiny in some way…
I had been wrestling with that idea since learning about Tang So-yeol’s potential involvement in the Heavenly Demon Body project. I kept searching my memory, wondering how she’d become the Poison Queen.
Ultimately, I found no answers. This frustration, this inability to recall any details about her fate, only worsened my irritation.
And now, faced with my sudden question about whether she wanted to grow stronger, Tang So-yeol looked up at me with a curious expression, her innocent green eyes fixed on me.
It dawned on me—had she always seemed this small?
Most members of the Tang clan, with their history of stealth and poison, had smaller statures, including Tang So-yeol.
And I realized why I noticed it now.
It was in her eyes.
Somewhere along the way, she’d started carrying a hint of inferiority in them. That feeling was unmistakable to me, as I knew it all too well from my past life.
The reason? Most likely, it was the company she kept.
Surrounded by prodigies and monsters of the martial world, a person of average talent would naturally feel insignificant.
When you realize others possess wings to soar while you’re left on the ground, feeling envy is inevitable. And that was a feeling I understood more deeply than anyone.
I knew Tang So-yeol’s struggles. That was why—
I didn’t want her to be broken by that same inferiority. Watching someone get crushed by self-doubt, seeing them lose themselves in it—it’s a fate I wished to spare her from.
So, I’d come to a decision, even if it felt underhanded.
In my hand, I held the gemstone taken from Elder Il. Though it looked like an ordinary gem, it was, in reality, a powerful elixir—an elixir created by the Tang clan over nearly a century, an amalgamation of countless essences.
Absorbing it would bring a tremendous transformation, enhancing one’s physical body and amplifying their poison resistance. It was an extraordinary substance, but the conditions to consume it were restrictive.
First, it had to be ingested by a woman, as men could not withstand its effects. Second, the user had to be young, not yet reaching the peak of their physical prowess.
Finally, they needed a body capable of handling extreme poison—a vessel conditioned for it, and that left only Tang So-yeol.
The poison energy in the gem was immense. Even with her natural resilience, taking it without help would risk her life. But I was there. With my immunity, I could absorb and control the poison, protecting her from harm.
However, as I pondered all this, I felt a familiar voice sigh within me.
[You still don’t get it, do you?]
Noya’s voice echoed disapprovingly.
‘Then what’s the problem?’
[Just finish your conversation with that girl.]
Though he was irritated, he didn’t stop me. And so, I turned back to Tang So-yeol, who was waiting for me to speak.
“It’s exactly as I said… Don’t you want to become stronger?”
“If I say yes, will that really make me stronger?”
“You’ll grow incredibly strong.”
I didn’t know exactly how much, but if this elixir was responsible for her becoming the Poison Queen, she’d gain a significant boost.
“And you’ll help me with that, Young Master?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated a bit, then finally answered.
“Then…”
She smiled brightly.
“No, I won’t do it.”
“…No?”
“Yes, I don’t want to.”
“…Why? Is it because you’re worried? I’ll make sure you’re safe—”
“Young Master.”
Just as I was about to persuade her, Tang So-yeol placed a hand firmly on my arm.
Her grip felt strangely strong.
“I know you wouldn’t suggest anything that would hurt me. But…”
She looked at me with earnest eyes.
“If I accepted, wouldn’t it hurt you?”
“…!”
I swallowed, taken aback. I tried to brush it off, but she continued.
“Whether it’s your body or your mind, I’d be causing you pain, wouldn’t I?”
I struggled to respond, and she spoke with certainty.
“It’s not just that… Why do your eyes look so sad?”
Unconsciously, I reached up to touch my eyes.
What kind of look was I giving her?
Tang So-yeol reached up, gently touching my face, and I couldn’t stop her. After a moment, she spoke again, a soft smile on her face.
“I’m sorry.”
“…For what?”
“For showing you such a pitiful side of myself. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”
Her words struck deep, making me swallow hard.
I missed my chance to deny it.
“It’s embarrassing. I’d rather others see me falter than let you see it.”
She was aware of her feelings of inadequacy, yet she managed to smile through it.
And here I was, unable to even do that.
As she continued to speak, I listened in silence.
“Yes… I’ve been frustrated, feeling like I’m no help to you, like I’m just a burden.”
“That doesn’t matter—”
“Even if it doesn’t matter to you, it does to me. I don’t want to be useless, Young Master. I want to be someone who can stay by your side.”
“Then, even more—”
Just as I was about to suggest she take my help, she moved her hand to my cheek and spoke softly.
“But no matter how much I want to be strong, Young Master, I don’t want power if it means causing you pain.”
“…!”
“I wouldn’t want to stand by your side that way. If I can’t overcome it on my own, I’d only feel ashamed.”
“…”
“So, I’m sorry if I worried you… Hehe, but I’ll be fine.”
Watching her laugh in that shy, embarrassed way, I found myself at a loss for words.
It felt like being hit with a hammer.
Where had I gone wrong?
From the very beginning, I’d assumed Tang So-yeol was like me, that she’d be consumed by her insecurities and fall apart.
But she wasn’t weak like I was.
Unlike me, Tang So-yeol looked toward a future where she’d overcome her struggles. She’d always been the type to endure.
Something within me shifted as I looked at her again.
Just moments ago, she’d seemed so small.
Yet now, somehow, she looked bigger.
[See? I told you. You’re still just a child.]
Noya’s amused tone made me feel as if I’d been struck down once again.
It was only because I saw her as small that she seemed small to me. I’d assumed she’d fail, and that made her appear weak.
But she was strong.
Strong and radiant.
I chuckled to myself, recalling an image from my past life.
When Sichuan fell, there had been a woman who stayed behind, defending against the demon invaders.
Though she knew death was inevitable, and her eyes had been scarred beyond recognition, she’d stood her ground.
Laughing softly, I realized the truth.
It wasn’t because she was the Poison Queen.
It was because she was Tang So-yeol.
Because that was simply who she was.
My vision cleared, and I looked at her again.
With a slight blush and a nervous glance, she said:
“Um, it’s not that I don’t need you, Young Master! I just…”
I couldn’t help but smile as I spoke.
“You know…”
“…Yes?”
“I think I’d be willing to die for you now.”
“…Wh-what?”
I’d said the thought out loud without even realizing it.
And at that, Tang So-yeol fainted on the spot.