The Palace Lord’s residence of the North Sea Ice Palace stood at the very top of the tower.
The tower was shaped like an icicle leaning as it soared into the sky, and it was mysterious at a mere glance.
At its entrance, Hanseol suddenly recalled something Geommugeuk had once said.
“I am someone who values the reasons of a subordinate more than the organization.”
She abruptly posed a question to Chan, a subordinate who had followed her to the entrance.
“Do you have a reason too?”
Chan asked back, his expression asking what she meant.
“What sort of reason do you mean?”
“I’m asking if there is something I need to understand.”
To begin with, she could not understand this question herself, but—
“There is not.”
Chan answered curtly, and Hanseol left him behind and entered the tower.
Chan stared at her retreating figure with a puzzled expression. At the question she had never once asked before, this thought unexpectedly rose in his mind instead.
‘Young Palace Lord, has something I need to understand come to pass?’
Hanseol walked up the ice stairs. Everything in sight looked like ice. It was a structure built with the unique architecture of the North Sea Ice Palace—ice, yet not ice. Light entering through the windows reflected in various colors, adding to the mystery.
Yet even as she ascended that fantastic space, Hanseol was thinking in an extremely practical manner.
‘This is what’s normal. Why on earth would the word “understanding” be necessary between a leader and a subordinate? Even parents and children fail to understand one another.’
At the top of that tower, her mother was waiting.
The Ice Palace Lord, Hanseogyeong (寒曙景).
An iron woman said to have a heart made of ice.
She was also known as the most outstanding in martial talent among the Ice Palace Lords of recent generations. Of course, since she had never revealed her martial arts to outsiders, no one knew the exact extent of her prowess.
Thus, the strength of the Ice Palace lay in its secrecy and mystery, its power left unrevealed.
“Palace Lord.”
To Hanseol, she was not a mother, but the mother; not the mother, but the Ice Palace Lord.
It had been that way since childhood. She had never embraced her warmly. If Hanseol took one step forward, her mother took two steps back. Hanseol had been raised thoroughly as the Young Palace Lord, and to such a Hanseol, she was a strict Ice Palace Lord.
Had their faces not borne such resemblance that anyone could tell they were mother and daughter, Hanseol might have suspected this was not her flesh and blood.
Now the two stood separated by less than five steps, but the depth of the chasm between them was unfathomable. From opposite ends of that cliff, they gazed at one another.
“The one who kidnapped the second son of the Northern Blood Sect was indeed a martial artist of the Demon Cult, as expected.”
Even though this was an important report revealing the Demon Cult’s intervention in the affairs of the North Sea, the Ice Palace Lord was not greatly agitated.
“It was an act a subordinate committed arbitrarily, and the Young Cult Leader appeared to shield the matter instead.”
The Ice Palace Lord asked for the reason with her eyes, but Hanseol could not answer. Because it was something she herself could not understand.
“He appeared to cherish the subordinate.”
At that, the Ice Palace Lord spoke in a calm tone.
“Even so, we cannot let the bloodline of the Northern Blood Sect die by their hands.”
The Northern Blood Sect had requested aid, and her mother was attempting to honor their request.
Hanseol did not know what transaction had passed between her mother and the Lord of the Northern Blood Sect.
“I have told the Young Cult Leader to hand over the subordinate’s whereabouts for now.”
“If he is indeed a cherished subordinate as you say, would he hand the subordinate over easily?”
“He would not.”
A look telling her to speak the answer she was thinking flew to Hanseol once more.
At times like this, did her mother—no, the Palace Lord—know how suffocating this was?
It had been that way since childhood. She had to find the answer herself. That was the only way to grow stronger, her mother believed. As if that were the one correct answer.
‘Mother, that answer is wrong.’
She had wished that a mother’s embrace would be a place to rest, however briefly, from the world’s gaze urging her to find answers. She had wished that at the end of this road, her mother would be waiting with open arms.
And to the present Hanseol, even such regrets she once harbored had vanished without a trace.
“I will find a way.”
She bowed respectfully and was about to turn away when she spoke as if she had just remembered.
“Ah, the reason the Young Cult Leader came with Chwima was because of the late Lord of Baekju Snowfield.”
“What was Chwima’s reaction to her death?”
“He seemed unable to believe that she took her own life.”
“Chwima will not leave easily, then.”
The Ice Palace Lord knew what relationship Chwima and the Lord of Baekju Snowfield had shared.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
Once more Hanseol bowed respectfully and turned around. Though she was a daughter, she was no different from a subordinate’s report.
Though either might have had reason to show regret at that fact, neither displayed the slightest hint of it.
From behind her, the Ice Palace Lord called.
“Young Palace Lord.”
Hanseol turned around again.
“The Young Cult Leader is the one who achieved the Jeongsama Summit. Do not underestimate him.”
When her mother spoke in such a respectful tone, she was emphasizing that the matter was of true importance.
Hanseol had not yet perceived Geommugeuk to be such a person, but she bowed her head respectfully.
“I shall keep it in mind.”
Through the transparent ice floor, the Ice Palace Lord watched the faint outline of Hanseol descending the tower stairs.
* * *
Geommugeuk and Chwima stood upon a snow-covered field.
Chwima, who had been standing there for some time, abruptly spoke.
“It was here. The place where the Lord first told me she liked me.”
It had been before she became a Demon Lord, in the prime of her youth.
“Why didn’t you accept her feelings?”
Chwima turned his head to look at Geommugeuk.
“Back then, even a single drink was enough to overwhelm my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“The competitors to become the Chwima were obsessed with alcohol. On the other hand, I…”
“You didn’t love it as much as they did.”
Chwima nodded meekly.
It was the first time Geommugeuk had heard this. Chwima had seemed like someone who loved alcohol more than anyone from the very start.
Yes, sometimes life pushes one in directions never imagined. A person who could not kill an ant might become an assassin, and a person who shuddered at the mere sight of a blade might become a famed swordsman.
And before one knows it, one adapts all too well.
“But you like alcohol now, don’t you?”
Chwima cracked a smile.
“Like it? It’s my whole life.”
Geommugeuk laughed along with him.
“I owe much to her for learning to love alcohol. At first the relationship was awkward, but gradually we exchanged letters purely about drink. Stories of alcohol she sent me, and we talked about all manner of spirits in the Central Plains.”
Geommugeuk could feel it. She had been Chwima’s soulmate, bound through drink.
“That I rose to this position, that my martial arts could reach accomplishment—if you trace it back, I owe much to her. I knew she was someone to be grateful for, yet I am only coming now. That is how selfish a man I am.”
That was the source of Chwima’s rage. The sorrow of losing a soulmate, and rage at a reality that could no longer be undone.
That is how life is.
Geommugeuk had been about to say this, but stopped. Those were not the words Chwima wished to hear right now.
“You’re a bastard!”
Chwima nodded.
“Yes, I’m a bastard.”
As if that confession had been awaited, snowflakes began to fall. In the Central Plains, flower petals would be scattering; here, it snowed.
Chwima looked up at the sky.
“I’m a bastard!”
Chwima’s cry echoed and spread.
Geommugeuk looked up at the falling sky with him.
“Where in the world is there a good Demon Lord? They are all bastards. She will understand you too, Hyung. She must have been happy, sending you alcohol. Perhaps it was better that you corresponded without meeting. Had you met, you would have simply caused a drunken scene. You did well. That would have been better for her.”
Chwima looked at Geommugeuk. He would never know what great comfort those words were.
Seeing those trembling eyes, Geommugeuk nodded silently once and moved to the next step.
“Still, we must catch whoever did this, yes?”
Since Chwima was convinced it was not suicide, there must be someone who drove her to her death.
“To investigate that matter, we must enter the Ice Palace.”
To Chwima’s worry, Geommugeuk had already formed a plan.
“The fact that the North Sea Ice Palace stepped into the Northern Blood Sect’s affairs means there are circumstances compelling them to honor that request.”
“That must be it.”
“Then if we resolve that matter for them, they will grant us leave to investigate this as well.”
Chwima understood Geommugeuk’s intent. He intended to negotiate: return the second son of the Northern Blood Sect’s Lord in exchange for permission to investigate.
“What if they have already killed him?”
“If they wanted to kill him, they would have killed him from the start rather than kidnapping him. The fact that they kidnapped him means it is to save someone.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
As expected, the answer came without hesitation.
“Having carried out a matter this important, they would have informed Gowol of their whereabouts through Eunwol, if no one else. The fact that they have not been discovered by the Northern Blood Sect’s or the Ice Palace’s search parties proves it. They are likely at Eunwol’s private residence in the North Sea right now.”
Geommugeuk knew better than anyone how meticulously Gowol handled matters. Gowol’s private residence would truly be a hidden safe haven.
“Don’t you know your subordinate too well?”
“What else would a heart be but a heart? Let’s go.”
Geommugeuk and Chwima began walking slowly through the thickening snow.
* * *
“No word came from the Northern Blood Sect before the appointed time.”
Ian had not thought the Lord of the Northern Blood Sect would abandon his own child.
‘They say the martial world is heartless, but this is truly too much.’
If it were me, I would have cast aside my life for my child. Is he truly doing this?
Though he had expected it, when reality crashed down upon him, Yangjung’s heart sank to the bottom. His father had traded the honor of the Northern Blood Sect for his son’s life.
‘Kill me!’
He had wanted to shout it boldly, but could not get the words out. He wanted to live.
“If you kill me, the main sect will surely take revenge.”
He was still begging for his life in the wrong manner.
Meanwhile, Jugyu and Hwangchu displayed no useless pride.
“Please spare us!”
The two still had their eyes tightly shut. Their desire to live was fierce.
“Now, you two open your eyes too. It is time for us all to think together.”
Eventually Jugyu and Hwangchu opened their eyes. Ian had lit a lantern in the dark room, so they could see her face.
The two were startled. They had never dreamed that the woman who had captured them could be so beautiful.
‘You crazy bitch! Who the hell are you?’
So much so that such words nearly burst out. Jugyu truly could not understand. With such beauty, she could have lived a truly thrilling life without resorting to kidnapping the bloodline of the Northern Blood Sect.
“The threats did not work. What should we do now?”
Ian approached close to them. Up close, she was even more beautiful.
“Shall I cut off a hand and send it?”
Jugyu, who had been staring blankly at her, unconsciously nodded and then flinched.
“Whose hand?”
At that, Yangjung glared at him. Whose hand? His own hand, obviously! How dare he ask when he knew full well!
“It won’t work! Since they have already given up on my life, would sending a severed hand make them yield?”
Before he knew it, Yangjung had hidden both hands behind his back. Ian had frightened him.
“It could be a bluff, couldn’t it? Thinking, surely they wouldn’t actually kill me.”
Ian leaned in and whispered softly to Yangjung.
“I will cut off your left hand, the one you do not use for your sword.”
When she gripped the sword hilt as if to strike immediately, Yangjung screamed in terror.
“I told you it won’t work!”
Ian took her hand from the sword.
“Right? Then what to do? Shall I really cut off a head and send it?”
The words from her pleasant, gentle voice were each and every one horrifying.
“So? What do you gain?”
“At least my mood would improve.”
When Yangjung trembled in fear and could say nothing, Jugyu stepped in.
“Then you will kill all the people you are trying to save.”
Ian stared at him and said.
“What can I do? What? Did you think I would feel guilty over that? Even if it were not me, they would kill those people miserably anyway, would they not? No? Did you truly think I brought you here to earn you money?”
Naturally, they could say nothing.
“Now, I have given my answer, so you give me yours. Otherwise I will simply kill you all and send you to the Northern Blood Sect, and I will disappear like smoke.”
There was a reason Ian was frightening them.
She thought that if they tossed out various answers, a solution might be found. Even a single clue would do.
‘What would the Young Master have done?’
She thought on it, but only felt that she was still far from his level.
Undoubtedly, a solution to this problem existed. So that years later, when she looked back on this moment, there would be a clear correct answer to make her kick her blanket in frustration, lamenting that she should have done it that way.
But for now, she did not know what to do. She was suffocated, as if a blanket covered her face.
“Please release me! I will go and persuade the Sect Lord.”
Jugyu was struggling to survive by any means, even if only he survived.
But Yangjung cut him off, though they could not persuade anyone together.
“Would that work?”
Ignoring Jugyu’s opinion, he presented a new plan.
“Kidnap my older brother. Then my father will surrender.”
Ian was speechless. Like father, like son, these people truly—! That suggestion must be half sincere. The other half must be for such a reason.
“There must be experts swarming around your brother right now. Are you telling me to get caught?”
Struck to the core, Yangjung flinched.
“I was merely stating my thoughts.”
“Wrong answer. Now, next answer?”
The three captives racked their brains.
In fact, what Ian would attempt was already decided.
‘I will have to make a different proposal and entice them.’
Because there were people she needed to save.
But the moment she made a new proposal, she would lose the initiative to them. These were people who did not even blink at the prospect of killing their children.
‘I miss the days when I simply guarded the Young Master’s side without a thought in my head.’
It was at that moment, as she searched for an answer, that someone knocked on the door from outside.
Ian, as well as the three men, were all startled.
Yangjung turned to the other two with a triumphant smile. Jugyu and Hwangchu’s expressions brightened as well.
‘We’re saved! They’ve come to rescue us!’
‘You’re dead now!’
They smiled coldly. Jugyu signaled with his eyes. Do not act rashly and keep your mouths shut. She might kill them all and face the rescuers outside.
But it was an unnecessary warning. Yangjung wanted to live just as much as Jugyu. Yangjung was not even breathing.
With sword drawn, Ian asked in a low voice.
“Who is it?”
Then, from beyond the door, came a most welcome voice.
“The answer.”