CHAPTER~27
Woo-hee, who had been about to lunge at Yeongho out of habit, suddenly froze—something seemed to occur to her.
“Wait a minute. You said even masters capable of wiping out sects don’t do it—but you never finished explaining why.”
She always hated being lectured by Yeongho, but as her senior brother (sahyung), there wasn’t much she could do about it.
She was born later, so she had to deal with it.
Life really was unfair.
“Ah, right. I was getting to that.”
Yeongho began another one of his painfully accurate, teacherly explanations—the kind that made her want to throw something at his face.
“Let’s say you attacked the Moyong clan’s main household, cleared out the branches one by one, and neatly wrapped up the aftermath. But—oops! The Justice Alliance isn’t exactly sitting around twiddling their thumbs. They’d find out sooner or later, right?”
Woo-hee’s temple twitched.
“And what do you think the other four great clans and the Nine Great Sects would do? Just sit back and watch? When they could be next?”
“Why would I attack them?”
“That’s what you think. But from their point of view? They’ll be convinced they’re next on your list.”
“That’s paranoia.”
“No. You attacked one of the Five Great Clans—one under the banner of the Justice Alliance. That alone would be seen as a declaration of war, a preview of the bloodstorm about to sweep through the martial world.”
The Justice Alliance was a so-called righteous organization created to “maintain order” between the righteous and demonic sects.
If some lunatic with a sword suddenly demolished a respected sect one day, that fool would instantly become the martial world’s greatest criminal—and the Alliance’s top extermination target.
“That’s why anyone with half a brain doesn’t do something so stupid. Even if you dig through all the history of the martial world, there’s only one maniac who ever pulled something like that.”
Yeongho spoke almost kindly as he named the culprit.
“The Heavenly Demon.”
Ah, even Woo-hee knew that name.
He had once led the Demonic Cult before the Ice Palace took its place as the most feared organization in the world.
A complete lunatic with a screw loose in his skull.
“He had another madman following him—someone slightly less insane, but still a top-tier lunatic. He’s your spiritual predecessor, actually. He gained his fame by doing exactly what you’re talking about.”
Even that world-class lunatic, the Heavenly Demon, had eventually realized there was no end to fighting the entire righteous faction and trudged back to the Ten Thousand Mountains.
It was a true story, from decades ago.
The incident where both the righteous and demonic sides battered each other into ruin became known as the Great War of Righteous and Demonic (정마대전).
If Woo-hee caused trouble, it wouldn’t be Righteous vs. Demonic, but more like Righteous vs. Evil (정사대전)—since the Ice Palace wasn’t demonic, strictly speaking, but definitely leaned evil.
And whether the demonic sects liked the Ice Palace either… well, that was another story.
Not that it mattered right now.
“Well, at least you can take comfort in this,” Yeongho said cheerfully. “There was at least one other idiot in history who thought like you. You won’t be lonely.”
Eternal Cold Iron.
That was what the martial world called the hardest metal in existence, priceless enough to make swordsmen lose their minds.
Of course, Woo-hee knew perfectly well that Yeongho wasn’t praising her.
He meant her skull was made of unbreakable metal—and completely hollow inside.
“You absolute son of a—”
Her blood boiled.
She already had plenty of reasons to despise the Demonic Cult thanks to those ridiculous wuxia novels floating around the Central Plains, and Yeongho’s smug face wasn’t helping.
“So what, now I’m being hunted by the Moyong clan for no reason when I can’t even touch them?”
Amazingly, Woo-hee managed to grasp the most important point of Yeongho’s entire lecture in one sentence.
“You don’t have to take responsibility for that tiger’s grudge,” Yeongho said coolly. “Just toss him aside. Cut ties before they tighten. It’s your last chance. They won’t be able to trace the Ice Palace from that corpse anyway. If you part ways now, everything ends cleanly.”
A perfectly logical, reasonable, cold-blooded assessment.
“Of course,” he added smoothly, “if you want to be sure, you could just send that White Tiger straight to the afterlife. He’s the only witness to the Moyong massacre. Dead men keep secrets best, after all.”
The ultimate demonic-world solution—clean, efficient, and merciless.
But—
“No. I’m not throwing him away.”
“…Why not? You’ve only had him what, a few days? Not nearly long enough to get attached.”
“Still can’t.”
“I get that it’s hard to kill someone you once saw as an ally, especially for the first time. Fine. Abandon him, and I’ll find you someone better—just get rid of that headache—”
“No! I like him, okay?! I even gave him a name!”
“…You what? That’s your reason? You name stray dogs and cows too!”
“I’ve never picked up a dog or a cow before. He’s the first subordinate I ever took in. Once I name someone, that’s it. It’s permanent. He’s mine, and I’m not giving him to anyone.”
“…”
Yeongho fell silent.
He hadn’t said to give the tiger away—he’d meant kill him.
In the Ice Palace, they didn’t exile problematic disciples; they sent them straight to the afterlife.
But after seeing the stubborn look on Woo-hee’s face, he lost any desire to argue further.
As he sank into his familiar self-justifying thoughts, Woo-hee pouted, muttering,
“Fine. I get what you’re saying.”
It was almost suspiciously easy—too calm, too accepting.
“If they back off and stop chasing White Tiger, I’ll let them go too. I won’t attack their main house or anything. That fair enough?”
No.
It wasn’t fair at all.
That tone—pretending she was being reasonable while clinging to her pride—was classic Woo-hee.
Once she dug her heels in, not even a broken wrist would make her let go.
Yeongho actually felt a pang of pity for the clueless Moyong clan.
Their entire future now depended on whether they’d make the smart choice—or the stupid one.
Then again, so did his.
“Honestly,” Woo-hee went on, grumbling, “I wasn’t that excited about storming the Moyong estate anyway. It just sounded like a waste. I know building a reputation matters, and sure, the world’s full of people—but slaughtering them in bulk is a bit of a waste, don’t you think? Even scum can be useful when they’re alive. We’re the Ice Palace—we should act like it.”
She said it with an exaggerated sigh, pretending it was her idea all along.
That she chose not to, not that she couldn’t.
Complete nonsense.
“Let’s be honest, Sa-mae. You’re just scared of ending up like the Heavenly Demon.”
“Who said I’m scared?! If they come for me first, I’ll make sure they regret it! Maybe I’ll even do a better job than he did!”
“…Are you seriously competing with that madman now? Is that the life you want?”
“…”
Woo-hee grabbed the nearest pillow, channeled her inner energy, and hurled it.
Yeongho tilted his head slightly and let it fly past him—straight out the window.
God, he was infuriating.
“If I die young, it’ll be because of you!” she shouted, slamming herself onto the bed. She buried her face in the blanket where the pillow had been, fuming so hard she could practically feel the heat in her cheeks.
Her legs kicked the mattress in frustration, then slowly stilled.
Truthfully, it wasn’t disappointment over canceling the Moyong plan that weighed on her.
She’d just gotten a little too excited over an unexpected grudge falling conveniently into her lap.
She didn’t actually enjoy mindless slaughter.
She liked moving her body, sure, and fighting with all her might—but cutting down helpless people like autumn leaves? That wasn’t her idea of fun.
If there was one thing she did regret, it was missing the chance to test her strength properly—just once—to fight until exhaustion against real opponents.
Back at the Ice Palace, every battle had been the same—same faces, same skills, same predictable results.
She just wanted to experience something different.
All that talk about being a great villain? That was just an excuse. One of many reasons she’d left the Palace.
Every martial artist dreamed of a moment where they could unleash everything they had in one grand duel.
Woo-hee was no different.
She’d just have to wait for the next chance.
As she finally drifted off to sleep, face buried in her blanket, Yeongho looked at her back and sighed.
“Yeah, yeah. Do whatever you want…”
The stars outside burned unusually bright that night.
P 27
