Chapter 1
When I looked into the mirror, I saw a child around seven years old, with blue hair and crimson eyes staring back at me.
I couldn’t believe the reflection was mine. I raised a hand to touch my cheek—
and the child in the mirror mimicked the movement exactly.
I screamed silently inside.
‘What the hell is going on…!’
Shurin Strogel.
The daughter of the Evil Dragon.
And the one who severed his head.
That was who I was.
There was once a mage beloved by all.
A man with the most brilliant mind in recorded history and a tongue as silver as moonlight—utterly impossible not to admire.
Everyone praised and revered him.
Until one day, that mage opened the Gate of Darkness.
From it poured a ceaseless flood of monsters.
The land withered, unable to grow even a blade of grass.
He transformed into a massive black dragon and began to slaughter humans, dragging the continent into ruin.
And so, the world came to call him the Evil Dragon.
And I… was his only daughter.
By the time I was born, the Evil Dragon had already been consumed by dark magic.
He subjected me, his own daughter, to endless torture and cruel experiments.
In the end, I couldn’t take it anymore—I ran away.
That’s when I met Regan, the man leading the expedition to slay the dragon.
Fortunately, he didn’t kill me. Instead, he became my protector.
Under his guidance, I grew into a sword forged for the sole purpose of slaying the Evil Dragon.
And finally, when I struck down the beast with my own hands—
—I was betrayed.
“I’m sorry. But you’re the Evil Dragon’s daughter. We can’t risk letting that kind of danger linger.”
The sensation of a cold blade piercing my heart is still painfully vivid.
‘Bastard.’
I cursed him silently.
‘None of you could’ve killed him without me. And now you kill me because I’m his daughter?’
The memory of my former comrades glaring down at me like I was filth, moments after we’d fought side by side, burned in my mind.
I thought that was the end.
But I opened my eyes again—in someone else’s body.
Thirty years after the day I died.
‘Was it one of the Evil Dragon’s experiments?’
I didn’t even remember everything he did to me.
Maybe something he left behind had taken effect.
As I pondered, lost in thought, a sharp voice jolted me back to reality.
“You call that a repentant attitude, Ariel?!”
Right. I was getting scolded.
Of all people I could’ve reincarnated into, why a penniless orphan with no one to rely on?
‘Still better than having a sadist father or being used like a tool by Regan. Even if the only food here is moldy bread…’
My hands blistered from threading beads and sewing, but at least I had peace of mind.
Well—until yesterday.
Someone expressed interest in adopting me, but I turned it down. Since then, the orphanage director had been rampaging like a bull in heat.
‘Why is my life such a mess?’
I was staring into space when she screamed again, loud enough to burst my eardrums.
“Ariel!”
Startled, I looked up. The director was glaring at me like she wanted to devour me.
“Are you so slow you don’t even remember your name anymore? You’ve been acting out since a few days ago! When someone calls you, you answer immediately!”
‘Well, yeah. Someone else has been in this body since a few days ago.’
“And refusing a decided adoption like that! Do you have any idea how disappointed Mr. Brown was?”
‘That scumbag just wanted a maid. If I go there, I’ll be worked like a slave for free.’
A moldy orphanage bed was still better than that.
“This is as far as your tantrums go. Mr. Brown may be a generous man, but he won’t tolerate your nonsense forever.”
Of course. The director clearly had her eyes on the money she’d get for handing me over.
She must know Mr. Brown was shady. She just didn’t care.
‘Figures. Life’s a solo mission. I have to find my own way to survive.’
“If you sign the adoption papers now, I’ll forgive you. Wouldn’t you rather live in a nice home than this miserable orphanage?”
“…”
“I just don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn. No wonder your birth parents abandoned you. Who could ever love a difficult, disobedient child like you? Just sign the papers and apologize to Mr. Brown. He’s willing to take in a wreck like you. Where else will you find someone so kind?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked her in the eye and said:
“No, thank you.”
“…What?”
“I said no.”
“You—you brat! What did you just say?!”
Right. The original Ariel was a shy, timid girl.
She’d apologize and obey no matter how the director scolded her.
But sending her to some twisted man’s house as a maid? That’s too much.
“If you want to live in Mr. Brown’s house so badly, why don’t you go? Why should I be the one to go there?”
Her face turned beet red, like a boiled octopus.
“You—you little…!”
She raised her hand to slap me.
That massive palm could easily tear skin if it landed.
But it didn’t.
Because I dodged.
Her hand sliced through the air uselessly, and she stared at me, dumbfounded.
“…Did you just dodge me?”
“Well, what? You expect me to just stand here and take it?”
Who just stands there and gets hit, knowing it’ll hurt?
She was big, sure—but she was slow. Her movements were predictable.
‘My mana may be gone, but I still have the basics.’
“You insolent little…! You think I’ve been too soft on you? I’ll fix that attitude right now!”
She swung her fist.
I side-stepped effortlessly, eyes locked on her clumsy punch.
“You…!”
Furious, she began lumbering toward me, trying to grab my hair or arms.
She kept swinging and missing.
I dodged with a single step, always just out of reach.
“Director, if you’re going to be this slow, maybe you should’ve worked out more.”
“If I catch you, you’re dead! Don’t you dare beg for mercy later!”
Most kids would’ve cried in fear, but lucky me—I’d faced someone five hundred times scarier.
“You made me do this, you little trash!”
Even her insults were less creative than the Evil Dragon’s.
Frustrated, she rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a worn-out whip.
That could break bones.
Better than the ones with glass and metal embedded in them, though.
Those tore your skin clean off.
I knew from experience.
“I fed and sheltered you all this time! And this is the thanks I get?! You ungrateful brat!”
The whip cracked in the air menacingly.
I stood still and watched it come.
She lacked formal training. Her attack had no unpredictability.
As the whip came down, I grabbed it.
The coarse leather ripped into my palm, but I held fast.
“You dare…!”
She looked like she might faint.
“You’re really going to beat a child because I said no?”
I was about to wrench the whip from her hands and subdue her—
But I’d forgotten something critical:
This body wasn’t mine. Not really.
Just two days ago, this girl had nearly died of food poisoning.
She was malnourished, surviving on moldy bread once a day.
In short—I was a frail, seven-year-old child now.
Dodging was one thing. But strength?
“…Huh?”
She yanked the whip—and I stumbled toward her, unable to resist.
I tried to let go and run, but I collapsed on the spot.
‘Crap!’
My body, drained and weak, had reached its limit.
“You little rat! I’ve got you now!”
Her hand clamped around my collar.
I curled up, bracing for the blow.
From experience, this position hurt a bit less.
“Ugh…”
My whole body felt like it was on fire.
Every joint throbbed with pain.
I barely opened my eyes, vision swimming with fever.
“It hurts…”
I hadn’t realized how fragile this body was. That was my mistake.
If she had enough strength to survive, she’d live. If not, she’d die.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to sit up.
Staying here meant death—or worse.
‘Just once is enough…’
I pushed against the wall with trembling arms.
The pain triggered old memories.
The Evil Dragon would get excited whenever I was sick.
“A fever? Excellent. I’ve been wondering how this spell reacts to a heated body.”
When I was with Regan, I couldn’t show any weakness.
“You know why I took you in, don’t you? Everyone expects you to slay the Evil Dragon. If you act sick, they’ll think you’re faking. Are you okay with that?”
He always spoke gently. Which made it worse.
In a children’s book I once read, a father said this:
“Don’t be sick, my child. If you hurt, Daddy’s heart hurts too. I wish I could take the pain for you.”
It was shocking.
So that’s how a normal father thinks.
‘I want to live.’
Even if just once.
I wanted to live—peacefully, happily, like other people.
My knees buckled, but I didn’t stop.
I crawled across the floor with both hands.
The wooden planks were rough with splinters and dust.
I had to run.
Escape into the woods. Survive on berries. Rest. And then…
A pair of polished black shoes came into view.
They didn’t belong in this grimy orphanage.
A rich man’s shoes.
“…What do we have here?”
A low, deep voice.
I grabbed the hem of the man’s pants.
And whispered,
“I want to live…”
Then everything went dark.
