CHAPTER~22
Woo-hee’s eyebrow twitched upward at the empty flattery spewing from Yoon Chang-sam’s mouth.
It wasn’t because she’d picked up on the true meaning behind his slick, oily speech.
She just found it odd — both Baekho and Chang-sam had this strange habit of calling anyone who swung a sword a heroic warrior.
They had no idea what they were saying. Because if you thought about it, what they were really doing was praising a future villain right in front of the righteous sects — the same sects backed by the likes of the Moyong clan and the Haebuk Peng family.
The irony was delicious.
“Yeah, Chang-sam. But the kettle’s empty again, so stop wagging your tongue and go fill it up.”
The rate at which the tea ran out was absurd. She ate and drank like someone possessed.
Chang-sam, his face pale, shoved a ten-year-old errand boy forward. “Go, hurry and fill it again!”
That grotesque spectacle — Woo-hee’s endless eating — had gone on for over an hour. By the time the onlookers turned pale and started gagging, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
“Ah, I’m so full.”
Woo-hee grinned, her face glowing as she patted her stomach.
“I can’t eat another bite…”
Across the table, Young-ho — who had been sitting as far away from her as possible, blocking both his eyes and ears — finally turned to her.
“Of course you can’t.”
His black eyes gleamed with deep, bitter contempt as he glanced at the shining clean bowls, as though she’d licked them spotless.
“If you eat any more after this,” he muttered coldly, “you’re not human. You’re a beast.”
That was, frankly, what everyone in the inn had wanted to say.
Woo-hee merely sniffed. “Hmph. Just so you know, I’m only letting you live because I’m full.”
She gazed fondly at the wreckage of her feast, rubbing her swollen belly with satisfaction. Her grin stretched wide, followed by a disturbing little giggle.
“Heehee.”
Young-ho’s expression twisted, as if witnessing a horror.
“Have you finally gone insane?” he murmured.
Then he sighed, regretting his words almost instantly. “No… that was a mistake.”
He corrected himself calmly.
“You can’t lose something you never had.”
To everyone’s surprise, Woo-hee didn’t start a shouting match. Instead, she stood up with the dignity of a great hero.
“I’m going out for a bit. Everyone, free time until dinner!”
Snatching her bloodless sword, she sprang to her feet — and dove straight out the window instead of using the perfectly good door.
The inn fell silent as if haunted.
Only Young-ho seemed unfazed. He didn’t even look surprised — more like someone watching the inevitable happen. After all, this was her routine.
Eat. Move. Eat again. Cause chaos. Snack some more. Then finally crawl into bed when the sun went down.
Letting her run wild was better than letting her drain his energy indoors.
It had been ages since he’d had a moment to himself since leaving the Ice Palace with her.
He decided to savor this rare moment of peace. Who knew when it would come again?
He rose quietly and approached Yoon Chang-sam.
“Y-yes, Master Hero?”
“The coin pouch.”
“O-oh, yes! Here it is!”
It was the same pouch Woo-hee had yanked off someone’s belt and tossed over earlier.
Young-ho took it, selected a single hefty silver ingot, and dropped it on the table.
That was all.
As if the glutton who’d eaten half the kitchen and leapt out the window had never existed.
With a calm, unhurried stride, Young-ho headed up the stairs to his room.
Yoon Chang-sam, watching his retreating figure, called out nervously,
“M-master hero!”
Young-ho stopped, turned slightly.
Gulp.
Chang-sam pointed timidly at the silver. “That’s… too much, sir.”
He’d expected a generous tip, not this much. It was nearly ten times the cost of the meal and lodging — enough to make him fear there’d be trouble later.
Young-ho’s answer came flat and cool.
“In three days, you’ll think differently.”
And just like that, he vanished upstairs without a sound.
Chang-sam stood there blankly, then realized something horrifying.
They were staying here for three days.
And every meal for the next three days… would be just like this one.
The thought alone was terrifying.
“Ah, I’m starving.”
After two straight hours of training, the first words out of Woo-hee’s mouth were exactly that.
She smacked her lips, her hand automatically caressing her now-flat belly like she was comforting a starving child.
“There, there… don’t worry. I’ll fill you up again soon.”
Her body wasn’t fully recovered yet, but an empty stomach took priority. She figured she’d eat first and move later.
She cast one last fond look at the newly cleared training ground — the result of her vigorous sword practice — and sighed, promising herself another round later.
Before leaving, she swung her sword a few times more at the felled trees, neatly chopping them into small logs — perfect firewood for anyone passing by.
Leaving the forest, she retraced her steps toward the inn.
Along the road, a row of food stalls caught her eye, each one lined with mouthwatering dishes.
Perfect. She’d grab a snack or two on the way, then reach the inn just in time for dinner. Everything was going perfectly.
At least, that was the plan.
“Waaahhh! Nooo! I don’t wanna!”
A shrill wail stopped her in her tracks.
“I don’t wanna go to the Ice Palace! I hate the Ice Palace!”
Woo-hee froze. That name — her sect’s name — coming from here?
She turned sharply toward the sound, near a cluster of small houses.
There, a group of scruffy children, somewhere between six and twelve, were playing with wooden sticks like swords.
“Hey! It’s your turn to be the villain today!”
“I don’t care! I don’t wanna be the Ice Palace!”
“Hey! We all take turns, remember? You said you’d play! If you keep whining, we’re not letting you join anymore!”
“Waaahh! You’re mean! I’m telling my dad!”
“You little snitch! If you tattle, no one will play with you again! Wanna play alone forever? Go ahead and cry, then!”
“N-no! I don’t wanna be alone!”
“Then be the Ice Palace already! We can’t play the defeat-the-evil-sect game without an evil sect!”
“Uuugh, fine! Waaaahhh!”
The little boy’s tear-streaked face turned red, sobbing as if the world had ended.
Chaos. Pure chaos.
Woo-hee had seen kids play these kinds of games back at the Ice Palace too — dividing sides, pretending to fight.
But there was one huge difference.
Back home, it was always the righteous sects that no one wanted to play. Not the Ice Palace.
The realization hit her like a hammer.
What the hell happened?
Since when did the great Northern Ice Palace
become the villain even children refuse to play?
Something was very wrong with this world.
