The Traveler and the Reborn

Ah, to think I’ve actually transmigrated.

Fú Nī Yà sat on the ground in a ‘duck sit’ (TL Note: A sitting posture where one sits on their heels with knees bent and splayed outwards), murmuring to herself with a sigh of wonder.

In this day and age, transmigration seemed to be an increasingly common phenomenon, so Fú Nī Yà wasn’t overly surprised by her own predicament and quickly regained her composure.

However, upon noticing a wisp of pale golden hair draped across her chest, she couldn’t help but frown.

“Still, no matter how you look at it, isn’t becoming a girl a bit too much…?” she grumbled.

She muttered, her voice tinged with dismay.

Pathetic.

Utterly pathetic.

‘Here I was, a virgin in my previous life.’

‘I hadn’t even gotten to ‘dig up’ someone else’s ‘cabbage’ (TL Note: A Chinese slang term referring to a man pursuing a woman), and now I’m supposed to be ‘dug up’ by someone else’s ‘pig’ (TL Note: A Chinese slang term referring to a man pursuing a woman in a derogatory way)?’

‘What’s more, it might not even be just one pig.’

As thoughts of her current plight flooded her mind, Fú Nī Yà cast a desperate glance around the room she occupied.

The room, while remarkably clean, was also oppressively dim and suffocating, featuring only a small window high on one wall for air circulation, and nothing else.

Fú Nī Yà was its sole occupant, the heavy door sealed shut.

Indeed, if one were to describe it accurately, it was less a room and more a prison cell.

A prison cell, precisely.

A cell designed to hold her captive.

Recalling the memories of her former self, Fú Nī Yà felt an inescapable dread that she was doomed to become a ‘rag doll’ (TL Note: A euphemism for being used and abused, often sexually, like a toy).

First, Fú Nī Yà’s fingers brushed against the delicate tips of her elongated ears—a tell-tale sign of her half-elf heritage.

The prefix “half” was indeed subtle; as hybrids of humans and elves, half-elves possessed both elven and human bloodlines.

In reality, this meant they could either integrate well with both races or, more often, be scorned by both.

Unfortunately, half-elves lacked the particular talent of a certain ‘Saint Gu’ (TL Note: A reference to a character from a popular Chinese web novel, known for their ability to thrive in any environment) from Fú Nī Yà’s previous life, resulting in their rejection by both sides.

Elves were a reclusive race, isolated from the world.

Not only did they disdain intermarriage with humans, but they were often too lazy to even converse with them.

Consequently, all existing half-elves were descendants of elven slaves captured by humans.

The elves viewed half-elves as a symbol of their bloodline being defiled by humans, considering them a source of shame.

Humans, on the other hand, had no such internal drama; after all, *they* weren’t the ones being enslaved.

As long as a half-elf remained an obedient and docile s*ave, everything was fine.

But Fú Nī Yà had no desire to be a s*ave.

Not only had she lived in a relatively egalitarian society before transmigrating, making her spirit unwilling to kneel, but even if she could bring herself to, given her appearance, the outcome was not hard to predict.

She would undoubtedly be treated as a ‘rag doll.’

‘My soul is still, for all intents and purposes, male.

Becoming a s*ave and being pressed beneath a man, forced to yield to his desires—that’s something I can never accept, no matter how I think about it!’

Gritting her teeth in defiance, Fú Nī Yà sifted through the memories of her former self.

Her predecessor had been born into a noble family; her mother, a pure-blooded forest elf, had been captured by a human s*ave-hunting party from the Elven Forest, bought by a noble from a certain family to become a female s*ave, and then, under circumstances best left unsaid, had given birth to her predecessor.

Although her predecessor was the noble’s offspring, her half-elven heritage meant she held no significant status within that family.

If nothing had changed, her predecessor’s fate would have been to be given away as a toy to other nobles by her family at some unknown point.

A turning point arrived twenty years after her predecessor’s birth.

The elves finally located her mother, organized a rescue mission to retrieve her, and, as an aside, slaughtered the entire noble family.

While her predecessor wasn’t killed, the elves were hardly benevolent enough to take her with them.

Thus, Fú Nī Yà, then merely twenty years old—equivalent to roughly five or six human years—wandered cautiously alone through human society for a decade, eventually being adopted by a half-elf self-help organization.

That organization was called the [House of Aethelina], Aethelina being the name of the Elven Goddess—for half-elves, despite being ignored by the goddess, they still yearned for her embrace.

Fú Nī Yà lived in the [House of Aethelina] for about thirty years.

Though those days were impoverished, they were the happiest times in her predecessor’s memories.

However, such days had come to an abrupt end not long ago.

During a mission for the organization, her predecessor, due to a moment of carelessness, was ambushed by s*ave traders, knocked unconscious, and then sold as a s*ave, eventually winding up in this auction house after being passed through many hands.

She had attempted to escape multiple times, but each attempt failed, leading her to despair and, in her profound despondency, to try taking her own life.

Tragically, for a half-elf maiden who had already become a s*ave, even suicide was a luxury.

Fú Nī Yà’s expression was complex as she touched the silver-white collar around her neck.

The s*ave collar not only signified her status as a s*ave but also possessed the function of monitoring shallow thoughts.

Should she harbor any forbidden ideas, the collar would induce bodily paralysis and emit a red glow, alerting her s*ave master, thereby eliminating any possibility of escape or even suicide.

‘Why does such a ridiculously unfair item even exist in this world?!’ Fú Nī Yà fumed internally.

Fú Nī Yà thought, puffing out her cheeks in indignation.

Although her predecessor’s suicide attempt failed, for some unknown reason, Fú Nī Yà had still transmigrated into her body and inherited her memories.

‘Perhaps it was a case of grief being greater than death itself?’ Fú Nī Yà mused, guessing that her predecessor’s spirit had simply died under relentless blows.

Fú Nī Yà guessed that her predecessor’s inner spirit had already died under the constant onslaught of hardship.

Incidentally, Fú Nī Yà was actually the name of the half-elf maiden.

‘After all, I was male before transmigrating; how could I possibly use such a feminine name?’

Shaking her head to clear it of these distracting thoughts, Fú Nī Yà began to ponder a way to escape.

Just then, however, a sudden gust of cold wind blew in through the small window high on the wall, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

‘Ugh… why is it so cold…?’

Crossing her arms over her chest, Fú Nī Yà could easily feel the slender fragility of her body and the silky smoothness of her skin.

‘Is this truly the mark of a half-elf?’ Fú Nī Yà couldn’t help but sigh.

Even after years of impoverished and difficult living, her skin remained as smooth and white as milk.

This extraordinary beauty, she realized, was precisely why humans coveted elves so fiercely.

‘But this body… isn’t it far too fragile?’

‘I absolutely cannot become a ‘rag doll’; a body this delicate would undoubtedly be ruined!’

Fú Nī Yà thought, trembling slightly.

Just as Fú Nī Yà was imagining various unfortunate scenarios, a sharp voice suddenly echoed from beyond the door.

“Bring out commodity number eighty-two! All of you, pay close attention; half-elves are extremely valuable.”

Immediately after, the heavy door swung open, and two burly men entered with shackles, binding Fú Nī Yà before dragging her out of the room.

‘Am I going to be sold?’

Fú Nī Yà’s heart clenched.

‘Am I truly destined to be auctioned off as a s*ave?’

‘I’ve only just transmigrated; there hasn’t even been enough time to devise a plan!’

According to her predecessor’s memories, while half-elves didn’t possess the eight hundred years of youth like full-blooded elves, they were still a long-lived race with a lifespan of five hundred years and two hundred years of youth.

Passing them down through five or six generations in some families was entirely possible.

“Elves are eternal; one will always be passed down.”

Although this saying was used to describe elves, it applied equally well to half-elves.

‘A family heirloom rag doll!’

Fú Nī Yà’s mind couldn’t help but conjure numerous ‘h-manga’ (TL Note: Japanese slang for erotic or pornographic manga) plots she had read in her previous life, their explicit content making her blush furiously, while simultaneously instilling a profound sense of crisis.

‘I need to save myself!’

‘Wait, aren’t I a transmigrator? Do I have a system?’

‘System, are you there!?’

Fú Nī Yà cried out internally.

At that very moment, as if hearing Fú Nī Yà’s desperate plea, a fluorescent shimmer appeared before the maiden’s eyes, and a pale blue screen, imbued with a high-tech aesthetic, materialized in her vision.

[Name: Fú Nī Yà Istareluna Long Fieldkerom

Race: Half-Elf

Build: Medium

Talents: Chosen One, Omniscient Eye, Exile

Specializations: None

Attributes:

Agility: 44+

Intelligence: 132+

Perception: 76+

Strength: 20+

Constitution: 15+

Level: 6

Experience Points:

Attribute EXP: 230

Magic EXP: 1352

Aura EXP: 127

Skill EXP: 620

Attribute Level 3 (23/1081)

Magic Level 3 (367/1081)

Aura Level 0 (760/1000)

Stats:

Health: 18/25

Evasion: 92/92

Armor: 3/3

Magic: 842/842

Aura: 0/0

Magic Perception: 265

Aura Perception: 0

Skills: Stealth (2/5), Detect (1/5), Basic Swordsmanship (1/∞), Basic Archery (1/∞)]

The good news: she had a system.

The bad news: she had absolutely no idea how to use this damn system, at least for now.

“…”

‘No, what even *is* this?’

Fú Nī Yà couldn’t help but scream internally.

‘Are there no smarter systems these days? Can’t it have some voice communication? Or just give me an item to solve my problems already?!’

‘Oh, great System God, please hear my plea!’

Fú Nī Yà prayed fervently within, yet even as she was led to the auction house, no super cool, super strong, super amazing system appeared before her to grant her an item and solve her problems.

“Now presenting Lot Number Eighty-Two for auction.”

‘It’s over.’

Hearing the auctioneer’s voice, Fú Nī Yà desperately lifted her head.

‘I’m going to become a rag doll.’

‘The heirloom kind.’

****

In a private room at the auction house, Albert sat casually on a sofa.

After several days of adjustment, he had finally calmed down from the euphoria of rebirth, now acutely aware of his mission.

He needed to change the future destiny of this land, to avert its utterly disastrous end.

It was likely that no one currently knew that this nation, known as the Holy Kingdom of Lohiris, had only one year of peace remaining.

A year later, the old emperor would pass away, and his eldest brother, the First Prince Aion, would ascend the throne.

However, after his succession, the crown prince, once the people’s hope, failed to resist the allure of absolute power, swiftly transforming into a tyrannical despot who acted with reckless abandon.

Externally, he intensified military campaigns against the southern heretics while simultaneously clashing with allies who had once fought alongside him against those very heretics.

Internally, he brutally suppressed nobles, plundered the populace, and erected lavish palaces, shattering the peace his predecessor had cultivated for decades.

In a remarkably short period, he managed to offend everyone he possibly could.

Naturally, less than fourteen months after his ascension, he “mysteriously” died a violent death.

Yet, he left no heir.

For his only son had been murdered by his own hand.

Soon after his enthronement, Aion, ambitious and vigorous, would not tolerate disobedience even from his own son, leading to the boy’s death.

‘Perhaps he believed himself still young, being only thirty-two, and thought having another son would be simple enough…’

Though this reasoning sounded riddled with flaws, no one had been able to definitively explain Aion’s actions until Albert’s own death in his previous life, leaving academia to adopt this hypothesis by default.

One thing, however, was certain: Aion himself never imagined that he would follow his son out of this world just a few months later.

What followed was a war of succession.

After a year of Aion’s reckless mismanagement, the court was practically in chaos, its authority completely undermined.

Influential ministers had fled to the various princely fiefdoms for refuge, leaving only new appointees whom Aion had elevated shortly before his death.

Consequently, the court was utterly incapable of deciding who should be the successor.

Even if they managed to reluctantly install Aion’s only surviving daughter on the throne, she would fail to gain regional recognition.

Thus, the former emperor’s offspring, scattered across their fiefdoms, rose in rebellion, gathering trusted ministers and nobles around them to wage war against one another, determined to decide the heir through strength.

In his previous life, Albert had been fortunate; he won all the crucial battles, eventually occupying most of northern Lohiris, and, seizing the momentum, marched south, preparing for unification.

According to his plan, as long as he captured the imperial capital, Saint Mir, and eliminated a few ‘insignificant old brothers’ (TL Note: A derogatory term for rivals), the emperor’s position would essentially be his.

His own ministers and nobles had even begun to ‘open champagne at halftime’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom meaning to celebrate prematurely) with the Pope, preparing to plan his coronation ceremony.

However, as everyone knew, celebrating prematurely was ill-advised.

At the most crucial moment of the war, *that woman*—the Witch of Calamity—arrived.

Every time Albert thought of this in his previous life, he couldn’t help but sigh.

His brothers, knowing their cause was lost, refused to accept defeat and formed a combined army of over a hundred thousand, making a desperate stand in the city of Saint Mir.

Albert led a vast army of four hundred thousand south.

After a month of siege warfare, nearly two hundred thousand on both sides had been killed or wounded.

Then, these two hundred thousand fallen were all transmuted into undead by the Witch of Calamity.

‘By the Goddess of Magic!’ Albert remembered it was a winter morning.

He had risen as usual to organize the siege when, out of nowhere, an interdict-level spell, “Undead Scourge,” crashed down upon them.

Soldiers who had just died suddenly rose, brandishing their blades and indiscriminately hacking at the living.

It wasn’t that Albert was unprepared, but before the Godfall War, shouldn’t interdict-level spells require an entire five-hundred-strong high-level mage corps, hundreds of thousands of gold coins worth of precious magical materials, and days of chanting to cast?

‘Heaven knew what kind of terrifying individual could cast an interdict that covered the entirety of Saint Mir all by themselves.’

What was even more sickening was that the interdict was permanent.

Civilians in the imperial capital, killed one moment, would become fully functional killing machines the next.

Ultimately, the thirty thousand troops who died during the siege and retreat, five hundred thousand imperial capital residents, and two hundred thousand suburban dwellers—a staggering one million undead—under the permanent effect of the interdict-level spell, became beings that revived instantly upon death, forever unkillable.

Fortunately, the Witch of Calamity’s target seemed to be only Saint Mir, so the Undead Scourge did not spread widely.

For over thirty years, from the Godfall War to the Religious War, and up until Albert’s own death, no one dared to ‘touch the ill luck’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom meaning to meddle with something dangerous or troublesome) of Saint Mir.

The ruined imperial capital, its undead inhabitants, and the perpetual interdict in the skies above it became an eternal scar upon the Holy Kingdom of Lohiris!

As for the Godfall War and the Religious War, Albert stated he preferred not to elaborate.

Suffice it to say, these two wars seamlessly transitioned from one to the next, affected all known nations in their scope, and were so intense that entire countries became battlefields.

According to civilian data compiled in Albert’s old age during his previous life, the population of the Holy Kingdom of Lohiris plummeted from two hundred eighty-five million to thirteen million in just forty years.

The known world’s population, after these two wars, decreased from approximately 1.7 billion to around 1 billion.

Mercifully, he had now been reborn, privy to future events, and capable of changing everything.

His first target was the woman who unleashed the Undead Scourge and shattered his dream of unification—Fú Nī Yà Istareluna Long Fieldkerom!

The Witch of Calamity, the Skeleton King, the Lord of Frost and Death!

This walking source of disaster could cast interdicts as easily as eating and drinking, an entity comparable to a fully staffed five-hundred-strong high-level mage corps.

In this life, she must be brought under his control!