Chapter 2
If this was just a dream, she wouldn’t be feeling pain—her hands and feet stinging and cracking from the cold.
Since turning twenty, her sense of pain had dulled so much that most wounds barely hurt. That was why she knew—this wasn’t a dream. She had truly gone back to the past.
“Am I being sent to the Black Tortoise Clan’s Seok family?”
“Yes. At least there, you won’t starve.”
But that was a lie.
They starved her, beat her, left her out in the freezing cold, and pushed her into fear.
“You’re clever for your age, but you can’t possibly understand the reasons of adults.”
“You’re wrong,” Soha replied.
The adults’ choices were wrong. Because of them, the fox tribe would be used and destroyed—forced to fight evil spirits, the young men dying, and the survivors scattered. A future where no one could be happy.
“Stop daydreaming and follow me,” the merchant said coldly, not caring how pale the little girl’s face had become.
“Blame it on being born in chaotic times.”
But Soha knew: even after ten years, this world’s cruelty would not change.
That night, when the merchant stopped to camp, he tossed her a small bundle of rice balls. That was all the kindness she would get.
Panting, her chest burning, Soha ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her lips were dry, her heart pounding. But still—she could run. That was hope.
One day, her ankles would be broken, shackled, or ruined beyond healing. Then, no matter how badly she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to run.
So she ran through the pitch-black night, stumbling and falling, but always forcing herself up again.
The merchant had drunk himself to sleep, muttering bitterly about the cruelty of the times.
Soha didn’t hesitate. She carefully loosened the ropes around her wrists. She had practiced escaping ties countless times before her death.
Luckily, this man was careless. He had underestimated a child.
“Ouch…”
A sharp thorn pierced through her worn-out straw sandals into her foot. She pulled it out with trembling hands. The pain was faint—fear dulled it—but she worried it might slow her down.
‘Which way should I go?’
She had always been dragged around, never leading the way herself. She knew she needed to go south, but the sky was covered—no stars, no moon. She couldn’t tell direction.
Then—water. She heard the faint sound of running water.
In the frozen north, there would be none. Water meant south.
And she was thirsty. Following the sound was the only choice.
The land of the Polar Night was dangerous. On many nights, ghosts and evil spirits—called the Hyakki Yagyō, the “Night Parade of a Hundred Demons”—appeared and attacked travelers.
But tonight, it was quiet. No shrieking voices. That gave her relief.
She pushed through brush, hugging herself against the cold. She hated the cold—always had. It was unbearable, no matter how many times she endured it.
Finally, damp air brushed her face. She rushed forward and found water. Cold, icy water, but precious.
She scooped it with small hands, though most spilled away. Even a little was enough to wet her dry throat.
She sighed in relief—
And then froze.
Rustle… rustle…
Something was approaching. Fast.
And it wasn’t human—she could feel the sharp, killing intent.
Her body shrank in fear. She had spent years summoning ghosts, but never once had she been taught how to fight them. She only knew how to suffer, to call them, to let others take their power, and to be left broken afterward.
Now she was alone. Defenseless.
‘Run. I need to run.’
But fear pressed down on her like a heavy tide. Could she do it?
‘Yes. I escaped the merchant. I can do it again.’
The rush of freedom she felt earlier—breaking away by her own will—still burned inside her. That thrill had been enough to make her want to cry. She could do it again. She had to.
Besides, the moon was hidden. Without moonlight, the spirits wouldn’t have full form. Maybe she could last until dawn.
“Aaaahhh!”
A scream tore through the night. Not a ghost’s voice—human.
Soha whipped her head around. The bushes shook violently, and a boy burst out, running straight toward her.
“Move! Get out of the way!”
He was about her size, quick and desperate. She barely had time to react before he slammed into her.
“Ugh!”
“Ah!”
They both tumbled down, but Soha landed on grass and wasn’t badly hurt. Somehow, the boy had twisted himself mid-fall to keep her from hitting the ground too hard.
Clutching his shoulder, the boy glared at her. His golden hair, cut short, shimmered in the night breeze. His fine red silk robe and layered leather armor looked more decorative than protective. He smelled faintly of a soft fragrance.
“Why are you just standing there? Are you even human?” he demanded, looking around nervously.
“I’m human,” Soha answered calmly, studying him.
The boy was frightened, glancing behind him as if something was chasing.
“Ghosts! An evil spirit is following me!”
Soha realized the ghostly energy she had sensed was aimed at him.
“This place is dangerous,” she warned.
“As if I don’t know that! I was on my way to the camp when an evil spirit attacked. I panicked and lost my servants!”
“Camp?”
“Yes! My family came here to investigate this land… the Kim family—uh, never mind that!”
Soha’s eyes widened slightly.
The Kim family?
In her past life, she had heard of them.
The Phoenix Clan—the guardians of the south.
In this world, there were four great clans, each holding divine beast power:
- North: Black Tortoise
- South: Vermilion Bird (Phoenix)
- East: Azure Dragon
- West: White Tiger
They protected the lands like kings, even though the empire ruled above them.
Soha’s heart tightened. She had suffered in the Black Tortoise Clan’s hands. Would the Phoenix Clan be any different?
“Where are your people now?” she asked.
“How should I know? I lost my compass running away!” The boy pouted, fumbling through his pockets.
But then, with a shaky smile, he edged closer to her.
“Still… since I met you, the ghost hasn’t shown up. Maybe I’m safe with you.”
His voice lowered, almost pleading.
“You’re really human… right?”
