Chapter 3
“It really pisses me off when people who’ve never even set foot in the North Sea act like they know everything! This isn’t the Central Plains—people are rare up here! How could anyone treat them like disposable tools? If anything, they should be cherished and trained as archers. But no, those arrogant fools think because we’re far away, they can write whatever garbage they want about us and we can’t come after them. Grandpa, isn’t that infuriating?”
Baek Dan-hyeok swallowed dryly, feeling as though a sudden arrow had been shot through his chest.
That so-called “false accusation” against the Ice Palace… for some reason, it didn’t feel all that false.
“D-Don’t get so worked up over trivial things, child. In the Central Plains, sometimes it’s more advantageous to remain a villain of rumor than to prove one’s innocence.”
He forced a calm tone, though unease shadowed his face.
If a sect was openly labeled as demonic in the Central Plains, that was practically a death sentence. Still, there was no need to pour oil on a house already burning.
“The demonic factions differ from the righteous ones. When a demonic sect closes its gates, others don’t leave it be out of pity—they see it as weakness and attack. That’s why white-path sects can lock their doors and later reopen unharmed, while black-path sects simply vanish without a trace.”
Not exactly a lie—but not quite the truth either.
The Ice Palace had survived losing its strongest master not because of rumors, but because—first, the martial artists of the Central Plains feared Baek Dan-hyeok so much that they wanted him buried in the far North; and second, the North Sea was too distant and treacherous for any sect to bother invading, as they’d never reclaim their investment.
“Child, if you’ve got that much energy to waste ranting, go find Yeong-ho and spar instead—”
“No.”
“Well, if you say no, I can’t force you. You’ve been training diligently, so one day off won’t hurt. But your poor old grandpa is tired, so why don’t you—”
“Grandpa, those insolent Central Plains bastards dared to insult us. We can’t just sit back and do nothing. They have to pay for their words.”
“…Pay? Pay how, exactly?”
How on earth did she intend to make people in the distant Central Plains pay?
At that moment, Baek Dan-hyeok finally sensed something was very wrong.
“If the mighty North Sea Ice Palace is going to be branded as villains without a shred of proof, then I, Baek Woo-hee, will personally step into the martial world and give them that proof myself!”
So that’s what this was about.
Honor? Reputation? None of that mattered. She was simply thrilled to have found an excuse to escape the North and play in the Central Plains.
Of course Baek Dan-hyeok recognized it instantly—he himself had once stormed out of the North to stir up chaos in the martial world as the Demonic Sect’s Number One Sword.
That his granddaughter had inherited this of all traits was both horrifying and impressive.
To think she’d spent all this time laying groundwork for such a ridiculous declaration—truly remarkable in its own, terrifying way.
“My seniors once said that true noble spirits are willing to sacrifice everything for honor, dignity, and reputation!”
Woo-hee began pulling out all sorts of nonsense to convince him.
The Ice Palace wasn’t a noble house—it was a demonic sect. Sacrificing oneself for honor or reputation was the last thing they believed in.
In fact, the very foundation of demonic sects was to trample on such ideals.
“So if I go to the Central Plains and turn all those ridiculous rumors into truth, then we won’t have to feel wronged anymore, right?”
It was a miracle of twisted logic.
If you followed that reasoning through, she was basically declaring her intention to turn the Ice Palace into the second coming of the Demonic Cult.
But—
“If you’ve truly made up your mind, this old man won’t stop you…”
After all, what kind of grandfather could refuse the grandchild he adored more than his own life? Parents could deal with the consequences later.
“Such an important matter should be discussed with your parents, not with an old fossil like me.”
His smile was gentle, but his eyes had gone glassy, like a dead fish’s.
“Really? Grandpa won’t stop me?”
“Of course not.”
“Grandpa, I love you the most in the whole world!”
Woo-hee flung her arms around him, pressing her face into his wide, warm chest with enough force to make him fear for his life.
Her affection was so overwhelming it was practically a form of assault.
The morning of her departure into the martial world.
The palace courtyard was flooded with people—disciples, guards, servants—all there to see Woo-hee off, their emotions a tangled mix of pride and dread.
“Don’t get too excited and forget why you’re going, alright? Write home sometimes, okay? If my precious daughter vanishes without a word, your poor father’s heart will ache so bad he’ll melt all the North Sea’s snow with his tears…”
The massive middle-aged man, whose fierce face looked more suited for battle than crying, now stood there with trembling lips and glistening eyes. Woo-hee could only sigh.
She’d tried calling him Father now that she was fifteen, but when he wept that she’d abandoned the word Daddy, she’d simply given up arguing.
Baek Yeon-hyeok—the current Ice Palace Lord, son of Baek Dan-hyeok—was a man of deep emotions, soft heart, and utterly excessive tears.
No wonder Woo-hee clung to her grandfather instead.
“Alright, alright, I’ll write! I promise! I won’t forget yours! Please, stop crying already.”
“Hic… Daddy just worries so much about you…”
“But, Dad.”
“Hm?”
“You said when Grandpa went to the Central Plains and became the Number One Demonic Sword, you used to cry and worry he’d suffer in that cruel, dangerous world, right? Don’t you think worrying about everything all the time just makes you miserable?”
Yeon-hyeok blinked at her, eyes wide and red like a startled rabbit.
True—he had worried endlessly, even when his father was the strongest man alive.
And now he worried just as much about his daughter, who was every bit as terrifying.
What did strength have to do with a parent’s fear?
Just as tears began to well again, a calm voice cut through the air.
“Ah-hee, the Central Plains will have many strange and fascinating things. But no matter how exciting it gets, don’t forget your mother’s errand, alright? It’s far more important than your father’s letters.”
Baek Cheong-ran.
Woo-hee’s mother, the woman she respected and feared most in the world. Once a formidable swordswoman of the Central Plains, now the Ice Palace’s blade in repose.
“Mom, I told you—I’m not going for fun! I’m going to teach those careless Central Plains scribblers what real martial virtue means!”
Cheong-ran hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was truly right to unleash this… spirited creature upon the world.
But the Ice Palace—and the North—were far too small to contain her.
Well, they said pain shared is pain halved.
“Alright, your father can handle the worrying. I’ll just worry about the poor souls who’ll end up in pieces after crossing your path.”
Indeed, in the martial world, where only the strong survived, worrying for Woo-hee would be the real miracle.
Worrying about what she might do, however, was perfectly reasonable.
“Everyone’s probably said this already, but remember—the Central Plains is very different from the North. Think twice before you act.”
“Got it! I remember everything. They said you only need to be careful around kids, women, and the elderly in the martial world, right? So I’ll only mess with young men, grown men, and slightly old men!”
“……”
Even Baek Cheong-ran, who rarely found herself at a loss for words, fell silent.
In the martial world, the unwritten rule was clear—never harm children, women, or the elderly.
Woo-hee, however, had apparently taken that as permission to go wild on everyone else.
Cheong-ran gave her a strained look, then sighed. There was no point in correcting her.
She knew her daughter too well for that.
Instead, she quietly hoped that the men of the Central Plains would heed that rule—and have the sense not to provoke the deceptively innocent-looking girl about to descend upon their world.
