IBGVMW~09

~CHAPTER 09~

When two Quickswords collided, there were almost no options for the slower and weaker one.

“Hey, come on. Don’t be like that. Play with me a little longer.”

If you couldn’t match your opponent in speed or power, then there was only one path left.

A single strike.

End everything with one blow.

“I haven’t even drawn my sword yet. Wouldn’t it be boring if it ended here?”

Click.

Baek Woo-hee stood there without a single scratch, her sword dangling loosely in her hand.

“Hey, Blackie. Don’t disappoint me now, that wouldn’t be any fun.”

The voice that had sounded light and playful just a moment ago now sent chills down his spine—no longer that of a cocky young girl, but something that had crawled straight out of hell.

Indeed, the saying was true: The Central Plains are vast, and the martial world is an unfathomable abyss.

The black-clad man suddenly wondered—was he facing a grandmaster who had reversed his age and returned to youth?

If this girl was truly a monster who had reached such a distant realm of mastery, then perhaps his utter defeat wasn’t such a shameful thing after all.

“Well, I get it. I really do. I guess when in the Central Plains, you’ve got to follow Central Plains rules, right?”

“…You’re not from the Central Plains?”

“Oh dear, you only just realized that? Blackie, you’re not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?”

“…?”

Woo-hee tilted her head, then suddenly gasped as if realizing something.

“Ah! I still had my head wrapped!”

Since leaving the Northern Sea, she hadn’t had a single chance to rest. The Ice Palace was freezing cold, so covering one’s head was a matter of survival. Without meaning to, she’d ended up hiding her hair color.

Not that it really mattered.

“I’ve got hair that’s rare and beautiful here in the Central Plains. It’s a shame you won’t live long enough to see it properly. Too bad, huh?”

The black-clad man didn’t think it was a shame at all.
If anything, he wished he could die without ever having to look at it.

“I’m used to a place where just meeting a person means braving frostbite. Here in the Central Plains, they say there are so many people that you could mow them down like rice stalks in harvest season, and no one would care.”

Woo-hee muttered in an annoyed tone, then with a casual motion, tossed aside the cloth she had wrapped around her head.

“See? Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

Under the round, silvery moonlight—
Her chillingly bright silver-white hair rippled in the wind.

The girl stood there, beautiful yet terrifying, cloaked in an aura so overwhelming that no one in that clearing could even compare.

It was an unreal sight.

“Blackie, you should remember this—never underestimate children, women, or the elderly in the martial world.”

Even when facing someone already doomed to die, she still offered friendly advice.

“Keep that in mind, and life might go easier for you, okay?”

The black-clad man’s instincts screamed in warning.

He spat out blood again and barked orders to his men in a desperate tone.

“Half of you—bind that one’s legs! The rest, with me! Handle this side first!”

“This side” meant Woo-hee. “That one” referred to Yeong-ho.

“Find an opening and kill that stubborn bastard first! Even if we all die here, don’t leave any loose ends!”

The “stubborn bastard” was their original target—now sprawled motionless on the ground. Even in this chaos, the man’s determination to complete his mission was admirable.

With silent precision, the black-clad men moved at once.

Half rushed at Yeong-ho.
The other half aimed their blades at Woo-hee, charging in with murderous energy.

At that moment, Woo-hee gripped her sword and smiled brightly.

It was a pure, innocent smile.

And in that instant, the black-clad man finally confirmed what he’d suspected all along—

Throughout their entire battle, she hadn’t used a single proper sword form.
Not even once.

She’d simply swung her blade at monstrous speed, drawing sword energy from a bottomless reservoir of inner power.

But it was too late to turn back now.

He was already in the middle of the storm—

—or rather, in the heart of a one-sided massacre.

Slash!

Woo-hee stood amidst a heap of bodies, lightly swinging her sword through the empty air.

Still-warm blood splattered across the grass and trees.

She tilted her head, inspecting her blade under the moonlight, and pouted.

“If I’d used the Bloodless Sword, it wouldn’t have gotten dirty so quickly.”

Considering she had just slain more than a dozen martial masters, her tone was ridiculously casual.

“Well, I’ll use it next time. Keeping it wrapped up so tight made it slow to draw. But if I walk around with it openly, it draws too much attention. Having something too good isn’t always convenient.”

Apparently, she wasn’t completely thoughtless—she knew the Bloodless Sword, a divine relic of the Ice Palace, was far too conspicuous.

After wiping off the blade, she turned around, sounding as fresh as if she’d just finished a nighttime stroll.

“Yeong-ho, the martial world is really terrifying and brutal, isn’t it?”

“Sa-mae, when you say things like that, could you at least pretend to be frightened? The way you look doesn’t match what I’m hearing—it’s unnerving.”

“In books, they always said that righteous and unorthodox sects alike resort to salin-myeolgu whenever they get angry. I thought they were just exaggerating for drama, but…”

“Are you mocking them now? Really? Then why do you keep calling my name like a lost puppy before spouting nonsense?”

“They might have actually been telling the truth. At least about the kill-to-silence part!”

Woo-hee completely ignored Yeong-ho’s protest.

The Ice Palace was full of people exiled from the imperial court—men who used to be scholars and officials. The Northern Sea was, after all, the empire’s favorite place to send unwanted nobles. Those self-important old men wandered the halls, forever reminiscing about their glory days.

When Woo-hee had been bedridden as a child, she’d been their perfect victim—forced to endure endless lectures about Confucius, politics, and etiquette.

By the time she was old enough to think for herself, she was convinced she’d have to pass the imperial exam just to run the Ice Palace.

Truly a pitiful past.

“But really,” she said suddenly, “if they could write things so realistically, why did they slander the Ice Palace so badly?”

Her abrupt question made Yeong-ho flinch.

He knew most of the false accusations against the Ice Palace in Central Plains’ martial tales could be traced back to Baek Dan-hyuk—a man driven by resentment and personal grudges who had twisted the truth for his own ends.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot about that guy!”

Woo-hee clapped her hands, as if something had just clicked, and skipped through the pile of corpses toward a particular spot.

She’d just remembered the pitiful “villain” who’d been chased by those righteous dogs.

She crouched beside a motionless body and nudged it lightly with her toe.

“Wow, look at that—you’re still breathing?”

What luck.

If she’d left without checking, all her effort would’ve gone to waste.

After all, a villain’s deeds were meaningless without a witness to spread the tale.

This half-dead man would serve perfectly as a chirping bird to broadcast her “evil reputation” throughout the martial world.

After all, even villains needed to help each other survive.

Of course!

“Hmm… but this guy’s suspicious as hell. Who is he, anyway?”

Woo-hee and Yeong-ho hadn’t exactly planned to be here. They’d just run wildly through the mountains, racing each other for fun.

So for someone to be attacked by righteous assassins here of all places… he had to be one wicked bastard himself.

Not that it mattered much.

Woo-hee had set out to become the world’s greatest villain, and as a proud member of the unorthodox sect, she’d naturally side with whoever looked worse.

“Hmm.”

She bent down and studied the man’s bloodied face.

It was so mangled she couldn’t even make out his features. Whoever had done this had been vicious—his face shredded so badly that his eyes, nose, and mouth were barely recognizable.

And the wounds weren’t just on his face. Deep cuts and slashes marked every inch of his body. Honestly, it was gruesome.

“Yeong-ho, what do you think?”

“What should I even be thinking about?”

“These guys. Don’t you wonder what all this was about?”