Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

The roads of the Shieron Empire were very well-maintained.

Each domain differed slightly in appearance according to the ruler’s personality and governance philosophy, but one thing that was consistent was the preference for wide roads.

In agricultural regions, the paths were often narrower, made slightly thinner to allow for more land to be cultivated. However, in areas closer to urban centers, it was common for roads to be wide enough for five carriages to pass side by side.

The hill road we were traveling on, though it was a quiet, deserted hill, was wide enough for two carriages to pass each other comfortably.

Between each of the domains, there were open spaces scattered about roughly a half-day’s journey apart. These open spaces weren’t managed by anyone in particular; instead, they were created by travelers who, whenever they needed a break, would mow the grass, flatten the land, build fires, and cover the ground multiple times, which eventually formed these open areas.

Even the internal courtyards of the Shieron Academy had been made this way. Every year, students would mow the grass near the open space and gather branches to tidy it up for the semester. The following term’s students had to mow the overgrown grass during the break before they could start their term.

I got off the carriage and looked around.

The capital of the Shieron Empire was located at the center of Shieron, while the Ernheart domain, where I was from, was located to the south, about a week’s journey from the capital. The Serbel Count’s domain, which we were traveling to now, was located southeast of the capital.

Perhaps because of this, the plants here, having grown in the warmth, had broader leaves and darker colors compared to those in Ernheart.

There were ten knights accompanying us on this trip, and once we arrived at the estate, we planned to split into two groups of five to take turns working, while the other five would enjoy the surroundings.

The servants, including the maids, had agreed to do the same, so there were many people, making the open space appear smaller.

When traveling long distances, it was typical to cook a stew in a large pot suspended over the fire. I stood by, planning to watch the children explore.

Three campfires were set up with some distance between them, and large pots were securely placed on round iron stands. The sturdy tripod stands were useful as they supported the heavy pots without tipping over.

“What is this?”
“This is a dish where we boil the vegetables, dried meat, and dried herbs in water, then season it with salt and spices. If you add a lot of dough made with flour, the broth thickens and tastes even better.”

“Brother, I want to try this!”
“Would you like me to help you taste it?”
“Is it okay?”
“Of course.”

The cook handed me a small bowl with a few raw leafy greens and some broth, along with a spoon.

I blew on the soup to cool it and let Asdel taste it first, then gave Mihael a spoonful.

I tasted it myself, and it was no different from a clear soup with vegetables and meat, so I liked it.

I knew well how difficult it was to have a good hot meal like this in the outdoors.

When I thanked them with heartfelt gratitude, the children chimed in with cute comments about how tasty it was, how good it was, and how they couldn’t wait to eat. The faces of the cooks and those who had prepared the food broke into smiles.

I walked around with the children, admiring the surrounding flowers and grass, then heard the call to eat and quickened my pace. Sitting together with my family, just like the servants who were casually sitting in groups, I joined them at the table.

We ate the stew with just spoons from the large pot placed on the portable table.

It had been a long time since I had eaten *gija* (a type of dumpling stew).

It would be perfect if I could add lotus root or bamboo shoots to the stew. The familiar, nostalgic taste made me feel a bit sentimental, and I ended up eating more than I intended.

After finishing, I asked for two more servings and ate three bowls before finally putting down my spoon, feeling satisfied.

Once the preparations were complete, we got back into the carriage.

* * *

The children, full and drowsy, fell asleep, and after a nap, it was night.

Since we had had a large lunch, we decided to have a simpler meal in the restaurant on the first floor of the inn.

Asdel was going to sleep with my parents, while Mihael would sleep with me.

My parents seemed to want the whole family to sleep in the same room, but since there wasn’t a room large enough, we made do with separate rooms.

Asdel grumbled that it seemed like I only cared for Mihael, but when I explained the differences between boys and girls, she huffed and went back to her own room without listening further.

When I first suggested a family trip, it was different from what we were actually doing now.

I had imagined that the five of us—myself included—would travel to some nice place, where I would take the lead in gathering firewood, making a fire, and roasting game like rabbits or wild boars, just as I had done when I took the children back to our home in the Central Plains.

Looking back now, it felt almost laughable.

I had forgotten that those born into noble families, accustomed to being cared for by many, were used to luxury. Their natures were kind, well-behaved, and gentle, so it was easy to forget.

This journey was less like a rustic trip and more like a luxurious tour—everything felt new and unfamiliar.

It was clear that I didn’t dislike it, though.

To me, a journey in the Central Plains was akin to wandering.

I was confident in my ability to protect myself, so I would often wander from place to place with a sword at my waist. If I came across a mountain with beautiful scenery, I’d visit it on a whim, and if I saw a river that looked especially beautiful, I would stop at a distance and gaze at it for a long time.

I rarely had money to spare, so I couldn’t afford good food.

Whenever I passed by the Wulin League, I would sit for a while in a tall pavilion by Lake Dongjing (*the fourth largest lake in the Central Plains), sipping tea and passing time. While sitting there, friends like Zhuge and Mo Yong would often come over, making a racket about something silly, ordering various dishes for me.

Lake Dongjing was particularly famous for its yellow croaker dishes. When you ate deep-fried fish balls made from tender white fish meat or stewed fish in a red sauce, paired with *huazhu* (a type of strong liquor), it felt like nothing else in the world could compare.

There was a friend who had once said that after the Heavenly Demon Tournament ended, we should go on a trip together. I vaguely remembered whether he had come from Mount Wudang or from Huoshan, but it was hard to recall clearly.

When the Heavenly Demon Tournament began, many of the friends I had made among the five great families were already dead, and it was certain one of them was from the old family group.

I picked up Mihael, who was whining from sleepiness, and carried him to the bedroom. For some reason, I had a strong craving for white fish dishes. It was a bit regretful that Mihael was still too young to drink.

That night, old friends, long forgotten, appeared in my dreams.

I could tell it was a dream when I saw that Zhuge’s hair wasn’t gray but smooth and black. A beautiful face, that of Mo Yong, appeared gently brushing the corner, gazing over at me. He was with his sister. Nearby, the Oryong Sambong (a group of three leaders) showed off their youthful faces and smiled broadly.

Huang Bo and Peng Ga, whose personalities were simple but whose actions were reckless and crude, jumped up from a distance, waving their hands.

Just as I began to walk toward them, I felt something damp at my feet and stopped.

A dark river was blocking the way between them and me.

“…Hmm.”

There was no sound, and I didn’t even know if I could make a sound, but my involuntary sigh echoed loudly, like thunder.

I looked down at the water lapping at my feet. Was this the Three Rivers, the boundary between the worlds, as described in Buddhism? I looked around, but the only figures I could see on the other side of the river were the familiar faces of my old friends.

There was a tree by the river, and I remembered hearing that if you hung your clothes on it, male and female elders would appear and judge the deeds you had accumulated during your lifetime.

When I had known the old beggar, who suddenly gave money to children asking for alms in his final days, he had told me this story.

I wondered whether this river was not the boundary between life and death, and I brushed away the restless thoughts that arose in my mind.

Whether they were in the afterlife and I was on this side of the river, or if it was the other way around, I couldn’t know. The thought floated briefly, like a dream, and then disappeared.

The faces of my old friends, some of them jumping up and down, waving their arms, and calling to me, filled my vision.

One of them broke into tears, but seeing the hole in his chest, I wished he would show a smiling face in the dream, instead.

I gathered my strength and focused on their faces one by one.

Some were young, others old, but all wore the faces they had in the days when I was closest to them. This realization filled me with deep nostalgia.

I suddenly understood. The one who had talked about traveling after the Heavenly Demon Tournament was the one from Wudang. I smiled bitterly. That person had died a half-month before me.

I stepped back half a step.

The ones who had been waving their hands to call me lowered their arms. The one who had been crying now smiled, and the one who had been smiling now cried.

All the time I had spent with them in the past was precious, but I wasn’t so shallow that I would be shaken by these illusions.

The past should remain in the past, for it is beautiful there, and now I understand that living in the present brings fulfillment.

The only regret was that, even in my dream, there was no one standing on this side of the river.

I had died simply, but now I had a new life in this beautiful land. I wondered if some of my old friends could find such fortune as well.

At that moment, a splash was heard.

Someone had jumped into the river. The shadow of the one swimming toward me was obscured, and I couldn’t see clearly. Just as I tried to look closer, I woke from the dream.

…It was just a foolish dream, a meaningless thing. But even as I tried to convince myself, something stirred uneasily in my heart.

I kissed Mihael’s forehead, who had just woken from the dream, and patted his back gently. His soft, sweet breaths reached my ear.

What I had to protect was here, in Shieron.

I had no intention of blaming myself for the me who hadn’t moved a step forward in the dream.