Since I’m a Time-Limited Princess Who Has No Tomorrow - Chapter 164

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 164
I closed my mouth in surprise and carefully examined the direction Choi Hwang-hae had indicated. My heightened senses picked up the sound of careful footsteps and movement—on the narrow wall between the buildings ahead.
‘An ambush? But something about it feels too clumsy…’
Memories of the assassins I’d faced during the monthly exam made me tense immediately, but Choi Hwang-hae placed his hand on the sword at his waist and spoke quietly.
“It looks like a thief.”
“Ah.”
My tension dissolved into relief. Now that I thought about it, there was no reason for an assassin to appear here, and if one did, An-si would handle it. I’d tensed up for nothing.
‘Today wasn’t a place where Nain could follow, so An-si said she’d hide in her new form and secretly escort me while flying.’
She was probably somewhere in the sky above or on a nearby rooftop right now.
As I glanced at the roofs, Choi Hwang-hae suddenly burst forward from beside me.
“Ugh!”
The man who had been creeping along took one look at the boy in indigo robes rushing toward him and fled in panic.
‘With the wing garment…’
I quickly channeled my energy and formed the wing garment to help, but Choi Hwang-hae had already caught the fleeing man and pinned him down.
He’s incredibly fast. It’s no wonder he became the youngest Hwarang.
“W-what is this! By your clothes, you’re a Seongsul Academy student, and Gwae-ryeok-nan-sin is oppressing an innocent commoner like me…!”
“An innocent commoner doesn’t glance around suspiciously and climb walls in the early morning. That’s what a thief does.”
Choi Hwang-hae spoke firmly and snatched the bundle the man had been carrying, offering it to me.
“Check what’s inside.”
“…Silver coins and a stack of receipts. He’s definitely a thief.”
At my words, the boy twisted the thief’s arm and hauled him to his feet.
“We’ll hand him over to the constables nearby.”
“Impressive—you’ve already earned merit right at the start!”
“Merit? This is simply part of our patrol duties today.”
Choi Hwang-hae replied matter-of-factly and took the lead, restraining the thief.
After we handed the thief over to the constables, they looked at us with admiration. They examined what the thief had stolen and told us it belonged to the Blacksmith Shop in the South Market, then returned it to us.
“Since you caught the thief, you should return the recovered items to the Blacksmith Shop. You’ll receive their thanks.”
Since it was on our patrol route anyway, we accepted the bundle and left.
By then, it had become full daylight and the South Market was teeming with people. A tall swing in the clearing swayed back and forth, and the sounds of gongs and drums echoed from all directions. Shops opened their doors to sell rice cakes, sweet iris wine, and Dano fans, while people dressed in their finest wandered about the stalls with excitement. The Dano Festival had truly begun.
The Blacksmith Shop that had been robbed was located in an alley on the outskirts of the South Market, where there were fewer crowds. As I stepped into the courtyard, I saw a sturdy middle-aged man sweating profusely, striking a piece of metal on an anvil with his hammer, despite it being Dano—the fire in the forge blazed fiercely.
“Um…”
“Sir, you can’t disturb Father right now! This is a very important moment!”
The moment I opened my mouth, a young girl from the corner came rushing over and started scolding me. I tried to explain by pointing to the bundle Choi Hwang-hae was holding.
“We’ve brought—”
“Shh! Shh! Please be quiet! Just wait a moment!”
A girl who looked younger than me pressed her finger to her lips and bounced on her feet.
What should I do? I couldn’t just leave the bundle here and go.
I glanced back to see Choi Hwang-hae was already sitting on a wooden bench beside the forge. Since he said to wait, it should be fine. I sat down next to him.
With nothing to do while waiting, I gazed at the Blacksmith. He paid us no attention, continuously striking and shaping the glowing-hot metal without pause.
‘Iron…’
The last divine power I hadn’t yet grasped a concept for was something akin to the essence of metal.
‘Come to think of it, until now I’ve always found the concept first, then awakened the divine power that matched it.’
After all, I’d classified seven different types of divine power among the divine artifacts.
‘But this time, the nature of the divine power is already predetermined—because it’s the last one. So if I approach this in reverse and contemplate what concept would suit the nature of this divine power, wouldn’t I be able to find the right concept more easily?’
Struck by this sudden thought, I observed the metal on the anvil more carefully.
‘Metal changes into countless different forms depending on how it’s handled, which is why it represents something ever-changing.’
According to the Five Elements, metal is born from earth (土生金), creates water (金生水), melts in fire (火克金), but cuts wood (金克木).
‘Born from earth that yields what is sown, creating water that enriches all around it….’
Comparing it to the concepts already dwelling in my divine power, it would become a concept flowing from judgment to healing.
Something that transforms easily, yet becomes hard enough to fell wood once transformed. Something to fit between judgment and healing.
Something to dwell in a divine artifact shaped like a ‘sword’. Something with no deity currently presiding over it.
‘…It’s vague.’
Transformation? Solidity? Tempering? Everything felt ambiguous somehow. Nothing quite resonated with me yet.
‘Right, it’s not something that would just strike me like lightning while watching metalwork. It can’t be that simple.’
I exhaled a silent sigh.
Meanwhile, the metal on the anvil continued its cycle—struck by the hammer, cooled in cold water, then thrust back into the flames.
‘Ugh, if I were that metal, I’d be in pain and agony.’
Yet only through such a process could something become a proper weapon or tool.
At last, the Blacksmith completed the heated metal into the shape of a blade and straightened his back with a long exhale.
“Phew….”
The Blacksmith’s Daughter came scurrying over with a towel and called out.
“Father, we have visitors!”
“Hmm? Young visitors, it seems.”
Choi Hwang-hae rose from the bench and handed over the bundle, speaking curtly.
“We’re not visitors. We’ve come to return something that was stolen from here.”
“Gasp? This is…!”
The Blacksmith examined the bundle’s contents and was startled, then grasped our hands and bowed repeatedly.
“Oh my, I thought I’d never find it, thank you so much, truly so grateful….”
The Blacksmith insisted on rewarding us despite our protests, pressing a small silver-handled knife into each of our hands. A silver-handled knife would fetch a decent price, and it seemed he was genuinely grateful since the amount we’d recovered was so substantial.
“That’s a good start! Feels rewarding too.”
“Mm.”
After that, Choi Hwang-hae and I continued patrolling through the South Market. We broke up quarrels between people haggling, apprehended a drunkard causing trouble in broad daylight and sent him home, found parents for a lost child, caught a pickpocket and handed them to the Constables, and helped escort someone who’d fallen from a swing to the Royal Physician.
With so many people crowding the streets, trouble erupted every few steps. Since we were members of Gwae-ryeok-nan-sin despite our young age, there was plenty we could handle directly, leaving us barely any time to rest.
‘I can see why they assigned multiple cadets to patrol the city despite having so many Constables already. They really did need every extra person….’
After wandering like that for hours, my head was spinning. Choi Hwang-hae showed no signs of fatigue, remaining as composed as when we started, but I was reaching my limit.
“Choi Hwang-hae, let’s rest for a bit….”
“Rest time hasn’t come yet.”
“I’m exhausted. Let’s just sit over there and catch our breath for a moment, okay?”
“We’re being punished, so we must apply ourselves all the more diligently.”
“We’ve been diligent so far! Just a little rest, please.”
“This is not a time for rest. You cannot afford to stop.”
Choi Hwang-hae remained unmoved.
This inflexible man. If he were the Crown Prince, he would have already sensed my exhaustion before I even spoke and suggested we rest!
“You’re a Warrior, so you’re fine, but I really can’t walk anymore. I’m truly exhausted.”
As I sighed and repeated myself, only then did Choi Hwang-hae look me over from head to toe. His expression shifted to one of realization—perhaps I did look quite worn out.
“…You’re right, this must be a grueling pace for you. Then rest here for a moment. I’m still fine, so I’ll take another round alone and return.”
Normally I would insist he not go alone and come with me, but I lacked the energy for that. I simply collapsed onto a nearby straw mat and nodded.
“I’ll wait here. Come back soon.”
After Choi Hwang-hae left, I caught my breath and looked around—a pansori performance was in full swing right in front of me.
‘So that’s why straw mats were laid out here—they’re for the audience.’
It appeared to be the Tale of Simcheong, which I’d heard was frequently performed in Yun Kingdom. I had studied it as the Crown Princess of Yun.
‘I’ve never heard it in the Heavenly Realm, but… it’s a plausible story. There are quite a few cases where humans were deceived by Demon Beasts pretending to be the Dragon King and threw themselves into the water as human sacrifices, only to be rescued by divine spirits or celestial beings.’
In the center of the audience seated in a circle, a Storyteller playing the role of Simcheong’s father was singing loudly.
“How could you be so heartless, saying you’d go as a stepdaughter! How could you be so heartless, selling yourself for three hundred sacks of rice! Did you think your father would be happy opening his eyes without you? I thought you were going to eat white rice and wear fine clothes, but how could you deceive me so completely! How am I supposed to live after losing you!”
The Storyteller was skilled. In the song poured forth with such raw emotion, I felt a profound sense of betrayal and desperate sorrow.
‘…Betrayal.’
I had thought the same thing when I first heard the Tale of Simcheong—if Simcheong truly cared for her father, she should never have sold herself as a sacrifice. A father who loves his daughter would never trade her life for his own sight.
‘If she had at least discussed it honestly with her father before selling herself, couldn’t they have found another way…?’
Of course, if she had spoken truthfully, her father would naturally have stopped her, so she deliberately kept silent and acted.
‘Still, it was too much. How is her father supposed to live after that?’
The Storytellers playing villagers began singing songs condemning Simcheong’s father as a man who sold his daughter, a man who devoured his daughter.
‘…He’s already suffering from losing his daughter, and now he has to endure such condemnation.’
When Simcheong threw herself into Indangsu, did she truly not know what would become of her father after her death?
‘Hmm, perhaps she didn’t have the capacity to think that far ahead. With such an enormous debt of three hundred sacks of rice suddenly appearing, needing to resolve it somehow, and with human sacrifice looming… there wouldn’t be room to think deeply about what happens after one’s death.’
I myself try not to think about what will happen after I die.
As I watched the pansori performance lost in such thoughts, suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, something cold and sharp came to mind.
‘Nae-saeng-geom.’
Simcheong, who hid from her father until the very moment of departure that she had sold herself for three hundred sacks of rice, and I, who hid from Heuk-yeon that Nae-saeng-geom would truly kill me and entrusted it to them anyway.
What’s the difference?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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