IBGVMW~06

Chapter 6
*

One step.

It had taken her fifteen years to take that single step.

Woo-hee had never once thought of the Ice Palace as a prison. But there were times when she wondered if her world might end there, within those frozen walls.

A foolish thought.

She lifted her chin high, gazing straight ahead. An endless white horizon stretched before her—so bright it hurt her eyes.

It was beautiful. Breathtaking.

This was a sight one could only witness in the far North Sea.

The massive formation that had made the Ice Palace infamous as a place of eerie mystery was, surprisingly, easy to slip past—with Yeong-ho’s help.

She felt a childish annoyance remembering how that same formation had trapped her every time she’d tried to sneak out alone. But she forced herself to remember: that formation was the guardian of her sect. And so, she let go of her petty spite.

Woo-hee turned back just once—truly just once, for the briefest instant.

Beyond the formation, the Ice Palace was gone. The small world where she was born and raised had already vanished from sight.

Their movement was swift and silent.

Not a single footprint remained on the snow they crossed. They both used Treading Snow Without a Trace as naturally as breathing. Even a skilled martial artist wouldn’t sense that anyone had passed.

Without eating or sleeping, they kept their light steps going for days.

Before she knew it, five days had passed in the blink of an eye.

Heading straight south from the North Sea with little more than stubborn willpower, Woo-hee and Yeong-ho had crossed the Black Dragon River, passed through Jilin, and were halfway across Liaoning.

She hadn’t planned on such a brutal forced march.

When she’d first decided to leave home—to find an excuse to go outside, or rather, to reclaim the honor of her sect—she had imagined something far more leisurely.

She had even researched every last rumor about the elders and senior disciples who used to make a name for themselves in the Central Plains, trying to decide which places would be worth visiting and what would make her trip a “proper adventure.”

And yet here she was, trudging through a hellish journey that wasn’t in her fate to begin with.

All because of that idiot Yeong-ho—who wouldn’t recognize a hint if you stapled it to his nose!

But even so, Woo-hee couldn’t bring herself to be the first to say they should rest.

It was pride.

She wasn’t weaker than him in internal energy or movement technique. To suggest a break first would feel like admitting defeat.

So before she knew it, it turned into a silent competition—both pushing their limits, neither willing to stop.

And as always, such a competition led only to mutual suffering.

Choosing the steepest paths where no road existed, they made surprisingly fast progress heading southwest.

By the sixth day, Woo-hee began to feel it—not physical exhaustion, but mental fatigue.

Her body moved automatically, her mind half asleep, the monotonous scenery blurring past her eyes.

[Junior Sister, if you want to rest, you could just say so.]

Yeong-ho’s voice slipped into her mind through sound transmission.

[Hmph, don’t make me laugh! I’m perfectly fine! You’re just saying that because you’re tired, aren’t you?]

She was practically nodding off like a sick chicken, yet still managed to send her message with bluster. Yeong-ho gave her a long, unimpressed look—the kind one gives to a hopeless child—but said nothing more.

Woo-hee felt a tiny bit of regret.

If not for her damned pride, she could have stopped for a bit of meditation to recover her strength. But now it had become a matter of who would drop first.

And there was no way she’d be the one to fall.

If she lost to that bastard, she’d rather drown herself in a teacup.

Actually, come to think of it, she’d prefer to drown him instead.

Yeong-ho occasionally checked the map as they moved. By then, they had nearly reached the southern edge of Liaoning.

Half-asleep, Woo-hee tried to recall their next destination.

After Liaoning came Hebei.

If she remembered right, that was where the Pang Family of Hebei held power.

She had never left the North Sea, so she knew little of the Central Plains—but she recognized that name. Her mother had spoken of them before.

Something about “a bunch of greasy pigs flaunting their wealth.”

The Pang Family practiced saber techniques and was one of the Five Great Clans. But Woo-hee’s mother, who had once trained in another renowned saber sect, tended to look down on others’ swordplay.

Still, Woo-hee believed whatever her mother said. Even if she was wrong, she was right.

She was just thinking how wonderful it would be to finally see something other than trees—maybe even real people—when—

Thunk!

“Argh!”

A dull, heavy blow struck her head as she dashed forward like an arrow.

“What the hell?!”

For a moment, she thought her skull had cracked open like a watermelon.

“…Wait. Was that my fault?”

Lying crumpled on the ground before her was something with a deep dent shaped exactly like her forehead.

A man dressed entirely in black—face, body, even his head wrapped in dark cloth—lay still.

An assassin.

And very much dead.

Well, she was definitely awake now.

“You’ve barely been out a few days, and you’re already putting your plan into action?”

Yeong-ho’s calm, elegant tone made no sense whatsoever.

“What? Plan? What plan?”

Woo-hee blinked in confusion.

He tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable.

“To think you’d eliminate a man with such creativity. A flawless first kill. Truly fitting of an aspiring villain. Allow me to applaud you.”

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The completely expressionless face staring at her only made it worse.

Her expression twisted like a crumpled sheet of paper.

“H-he should’ve dodged! It’s his own damn fault!”

She tried to justify herself, though she knew perfectly well—she had made a rookie mistake.

After six days without food or rest, she had failed to sense an obstacle in her path. The kind of blunder a third-rate martial artist might make.

And the poor man hadn’t even had time to react before dying instantly.

It was infuriating.

Not because she’d killed someone—she was from the demonic faction, after all—but because it was such a stupid way to do it.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she growled. “You knew that thing was there and didn’t warn me!”

She wasn’t stupid. Yeong-ho might have less raw power, but his control was sharper than hers. There was no way he hadn’t sensed an obstacle dead ahead.

It had to be a setup.

If anyone accused her of murder, she’d make damn sure they blamed him.

“Junior Sister, accusing someone without evidence is unbecoming. If you wish to blame me, at least bring proper proof.”

“Perfect! I am trying to become a villain, you idiot! Doing the ‘wrong thing’ is literally my job! Wait—hold on. Are you saying you actually let me crash into him on purpose?!”

“Yes.”

“You’re answering yes?!”

“Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.”

His flat “yes” echoed one after another, and Woo-hee’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

“You hear yourself, right? You’re too good at saying yes! Should I hit you every time you say it?!”

She itched to bash his head in—once for every “yes” that came out of his mouth.

If not for the sixty-seven trillion failed attempts she’d already made in the past, she would’ve done it without hesitation.

Just as she was reaching for the hilt of her sword, a dark, heavy voice split the air between them.

“Who are you—and where did you come from?”

The voice was followed by a faint rustle.

“They’re not with our men… are they?”

At once, both Woo-hee and Yeong-ho turned their heads toward the sound.