Chapter 432: The Gate Of The Ice Palace Is Open Forr You
The snow-covered courtyard was clean and tranquil.
The snow that had settled on the trees looked like white blossoms, and the icicles hanging from the eaves shone clear and bright.
Lee Ahn, stepping into this pure white space, began performing the Soaring Sword Art atop the untouched white snow.
Now that Geom Mugeuk and the Drunken Demon had returned safely.
‘What I need to worry about now is my own life.’
Having a good personality or a pretty face could often be a disadvantage in the world of martial arts if not backed by skill.
She trained for Geom Mugeuk.
No longer did she carry such feelings as she did during her days as a bodyguard.
Now, she trained for herself. Still, she thought this effort would ultimately serve Geom Mugeuk’s path.
She moved back and forth across the snow, wielding her sword. She, beautiful beyond compare, performing the Soaring Sword Art on pure white snow—it looked just like a painting.
After performing a full sequence of Soaring Sword Art, she looked down at the footprints imprinted on the ground.
It was her first time seeing such vivid tracks left behind, as she had never performed sword forms on untouched snow before.
“This one is the First Form, Balancing the Heavens. And this is the Second Form, Transforming Heavens Style...”
Then suddenly, her gaze fixed on a single spot.
“Just as I thought! This part split open again. What on earth is the problem? Please, just tell me already!”
As she looked up at the sky, she was startled. At some point, Geom Mugeuk had floated above her head.
“What are you doing up there, Young Master?”
“What do you think? I was watching to see what the problem was.”
Geom Mugeuk, who had been looking down at her footprints from midair, descended.
She hadn’t been receiving instruction from Geom Mugeuk recently. So, not wanting to miss this chance, she quickly spoke.
“When I perform the Eighth Form, Heaven Abyss Form, my rear foot keeps shifting outward to the right. I’ve been training to fix it, but I just can’t correct it.”
“Why do you think you can’t fix it, when you’re aware of the issue?”
“Because I’m not good at interpreting martial arts.”
“Aren’t you overestimating the Soaring Sword Art a bit?”
Lee Ahn turned to look at Geom Mugeuk.
He nodded with a serious expression, as if he hadn’t been joking.
Lee Ahn looked back down at the footprints.
‘Does that mean the Young Master is saying I might not be wrong? If that’s the case...?’
Lee Ahn gazed down at the footprints, lost in thought.
How much time had passed?
“Could it have been something like this?”
Lee Ahn flinched as she lifted her head. At some point, dusk had fallen around her.
Geom Mugeuk was standing where he had been, watching her.
“Young Master? What’s going on?”
“You were in a trance.”
The word “trance” startled her even more.
“It felt like only a moment had passed.”
“That’s what being in a trance is.”
“But it wasn’t such a serious issue that I’d fall into a trance.”
“Then what kind of issue would be serious?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“It was something worth pondering over.”
Then Lee Ahn asked, surprised.
“No way… were you standing there this whole time?”
“I didn’t want to break your trance.”
Geom Mugeuk understood how important that moment was to her. After all, most martial artists went their whole lives without ever experiencing it, even once.
“I feel bad you had to stand so long because of me.”
“If I think about all the time you stood guard at my door, this doesn’t even count as standing.”
“That was just my job.”
She felt thankful hearing Geom Mugeuk say that. Had she ever expected any sort of reward for serving as his escort? Even so, just that single sentence turned all her past hardship into something worthwhile.
Geom Mugeuk was always one to practice what he preached—if there was something to say, then express it.
“So? What conclusion did you come to?”
“In my opinion, it’s fine if the foot opens outward to the right. Even if I’m attacked, it’s a stable stance, and there’s no issue linking it to other forms. No matter how I think about it, there’s no reason to keep it strictly aligned.”
“Then why haven’t you thought of it that way until now?”
“Because it didn’t make sense for the Soaring Sword Art to be wrong.”
To her, the Soaring Sword Art was a flawless martial art. Before learning the Nine Calamities Demon Art, it was the technique inherited by the successors of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
Geom Mugeuk didn’t answer with words—he showed her directly.
He began performing the Soaring Sword Art in the same spot where she had just executed her forms.
Footprints began appearing in nearly the same places.
Lee Ahn widened her eyes, watching Geom Mugeuk’s every movement without letting a single detail escape her.
It was the same sequence of forms, but it was different. Different yet the same, the same yet different.
They say you only see what you know. Compared to the demonstration she had seen before, this felt completely new. When she reached true mastery, it would likely appear different once again.
The footprints that remained—
She focused on the one she had been troubled over earlier.
“Huh? Young Master, your foot opened to the right too.”
Geom Mugeuk smiled as he replied.
“That means the answer you found was correct.”
Lee Ahn felt happy, yet at the same time a little surprised. But then, why had the form dictated that the foot should remain in a straight line?
That question was answered by Geom Mugeuk.
“Whether it was the intention of the martial artist who created it, or something that happened by chance, this is the point that becomes the greatest wall on the path to mastery in the Soaring Sword Art. It’s also the moment when the tightly structured forms begin to gain freedom.”
That meant she had taken one step closer to achieving mastery of the Soaring Sword Art.
Though she had trained diligently and received many teachings from Geom Mugeuk, Lee Ahn possessed a natural talent for martial arts.
“Thank you so much, Young Master.”
If not for Geom Mugeuk, how would she have found the answer? Had he not told her earlier to trust herself rather than the swordsmanship, she would never have experienced a trance.
“It’s about time we head back to the main sect.”
“Young Master, I’m thinking of not returning and continuing the mission I was assigned.”
Her original reason for being sent out was to appoint Seo Jin, the younger sister of Gwi Ryeongja, as a captain of the Tenebrous Ghosts Corps.
But after receiving a woman’s plea to save her husband, she had ended up coming all the way to the Northern Sea.
“Should I come with you?”
Lee Ahn shook her head.
“I want to do this one alone.”
This was her journey through the world of martial arts, starting from the moment she received a cup of water and set out for the Northern Sea.
Whether or not she could bring Seo Jin back wasn’t the point—when she returned from completing this mission, she felt she would have grown immensely. It would be even better if she achieved mastery of the Soaring Sword Art.
“Be careful when accepting a drink of water.”
At Geom Mugeuk’s joke, Lee Ahn broke into a wide smile.
Just then, a martial artist from the Ice Palace came and delivered a message from the Ice Palace Master.
“Her Grace wishes to see the two of you.”
Geom Mugeuk could sense it—it was because of Lee Ahn that the Ice Palace Master had summoned them.
In the Palace Master's Hall, the Ice Palace Master was waiting alone.
After exchanging greetings, she asked the question she had been most curious about.
“Did the Drunken Demon find it to his satisfaction?”
She was referring to the Drunken Demon’s reaction after receiving the Ice Palace Chalice.
Geom Mugeuk wanted to express how much he had enjoyed it and how elated he was, but he considered the Drunken Demon’s dignity.
“He was very pleased.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now, please have a seat.”
Once Geom Mugeuk and Lee Ahn were seated, the Ice Palace Master served them tea.
Lee Ahn looked again at the pattern on the teacup.
“You said before it looked familiar?”
“Now that I see it again, I’m sure of it. I’ve definitely seen it somewhere before.”
Geom Mugeuk took a glance and saw a picture of two birds flying—it gave off a very distinct impression.
The Ice Palace Master silently stared at Lee Ahn. From the first time they met, her eyes kept being drawn to her for some reason.
As she quietly looked at Lee Ahn, the Ice Palace Master made an unexpected request.
“Would it be all right if I take your pulse just once? I’ll explain the reason after I check it.”
Caught off guard by the unexpected proposal, Lee Ahn was flustered. For a martial artist to offer their pulse was akin to offering their life. Unless injured or under special circumstances, one never allowed their pulse to be taken. Of course, she didn’t think the Ice Palace Master intended her harm, but hesitation was only natural.
She glanced at Geom Mugeuk.
He said nothing.
If he had thought it necessary to intervene, he would have stepped in. With that in mind, Lee Ahn calmly gave her permission.
“Yes, I understand.”
When she calmly extended her arm, the Ice Palace Master took her pulse.
As she examined her meridians for a moment, her eyes opened wide. What passed across her face was an emotion she had carried in her heart for a very long time—a surge of intense emotion.
Even Geom Mugeuk noticed that something was different about her mood, and so did she.
After sipping her tea and settling her emotions, the Ice Palace Master finally spoke in a calm tone. Her gaze remained fixed on her.
“This pattern on the teacup was drawn by my older sister, who left the Ice Palace a long time ago.”
She still couldn’t guess what this unfamiliar emotion she was revealing meant.
“Is it possible I saw the pattern your sister drew at some point?”
“Maybe. What I know for sure is that this pattern is one of a kind in the world. No one else would paint something like this on a teacup.”
Her voice was trembling. Even when the Ice Palace was in danger, she had remained composed. But now, she was shaking.
“Before Elder Seo died, he mentioned my sister. That’s when I realized it—he was the one who killed her.”
Back then, Seo Nak had been utterly loyal to her. It was that warped loyalty that drove him to prevent her sister from threatening her position as Palace Master.
“Before his death, Elder Seo told me something else. That my sister had a daughter. He said it with enough uncertainty to make me doubt, just to unsettle me—but he definitely said she had a daughter.”
Only now did she begin to understand. Why had she taken her pulse? Why was she telling her all of this?
Her heart began to race wildly. She never imagined she would hear such a conversation inside the Palace Master's Hall of the Ice Palace.
Then, the decisive words came from the Ice Palace Master’s lips.
“The women of our bloodline are born with a special meridian that makes them well-suited to master Ice Arts.”
From the trembling in her voice, she already knew what the conclusion would be.
“You are my niece.”
Was she stunned into silence? Even though the secret of her birth had just been revealed, she felt strangely calm.
She didn’t know how to react or what to say.
She had lived her whole life believing she’d been abandoned by her parents. And now she was told her mother was the Ice Palace Master’s older sister?
She looked toward Geom Mugeuk. She truly wanted to ask him:
Young Master, they say I’m the Ice Palace Master’s blood relative. What am I supposed to do now?
Reading her heart, Geom Mugeuk asked,
“How do you feel?”
“I just……”
She meant to say she felt dazed, but suddenly a wave of emotion welled up inside her. She remembered the image of her mother, who had lost her life to an evil man. She had always believed her parents had abandoned her. She had resented them so much for that.
“I……”
Her voice caught with tears, and she couldn’t finish the sentence.
Both Geom Mugeuk and the Ice Palace Master quietly waited for her.
Only after quite some time did Lee Ahn manage to collect herself. After taking a deep breath, she quietly shared her thoughts.
“Still, nothing will change.”
She conveyed her conclusion in a calm tone.
“From now on, as well, I will remain the daughter of the Fist Demon King, the former escort of the Young Cult Leader, and the leader of the Tenebrous Ghosts Corps. I am satisfied with my life. I don’t want anything in it to change.”
Though it was a painful thing to say to the Ice Palace Master—who had just revealed herself to be her aunt—it was how Lee Ahn truly felt. This was what she believed had to be said first; no other words came to her.
Perhaps the Ice Palace Master had anticipated such a response, for she remained composed.
“Very well. Do as you wish.”
She felt sorry for Lee Ahn. Her sister’s tragedy had ultimately happened because of her.
Was it fate’s cruel joke? The one who had been a victim of the succession struggle now gave her utmost trust and loyalty to the very person who had ended that struggle without bloodshed.
“Thank you… for growing up so well.”
The Ice Palace Master was proud of Lee Ahn. She was truly grateful that she had grown into someone so admirable.
“I heard you came all the way here to rescue the husband of a woman who once gave you a glass of water. I would not have gone… but my sister would have. You are just like your mother.”
Perhaps it was destiny—inescapable and absolute—that had guided her to the Northern Sea.
A destiny infused with her mother’s desperate wish.
“From now on, the gate of the Ice Palace will always be open to you. Come whenever you wish.”
“Thank you.”
The Ice Palace Master wanted to embrace her once. But the words wouldn’t come.
Overwhelmed with confusion, awkwardness, and a tangled heart, Lee Ahn offered a respectful bow instead.
“Then I’ll take my leave now.”
“All right. Go get some proper rest.”
Neither the word "aunt" nor "niece" came easily yet.
After Lee Ahn exited the Palace Master's Hall, only Geom Mugeuk and the Ice Palace Master remained inside.
“She’ll need a bit more time.”
“I suppose so.”
The Ice Palace Master was filled with joy at having found her sister’s daughter. But Geom Mugeuk, as always, reined in the moment with a measured caution.
“It may be best not to make this public for now.”
“And why is that?”
“Wasn’t it to avoid the succession battle that your sister left in the first place? If it becomes known that Lee Ahn is her blood relative, someone like Elder Seo may appear again, trying to use that fact to scheme something. In the end, your niece could be forced to bear the same burden.”
“!”
She hadn’t considered that. Her eagerness to share the news of finding her sister’s child had clouded her judgment.
‘The more I see of him, the more astonishing he becomes.’
Since the day they met, Geom Mugeuk had never once revealed a flaw.
“We’ll be leaving at dawn tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
A feeling of regret washed over her. That she would feel such disappointment over the departure of the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult? Had this been before Geom Mugeuk’s arrival, she would have thought the very idea absurd.
But since his arrival, he had restored his bond with her daughter, found her niece, and helped the Ice Palace escape crisis. Yes, with all that, it was more than enough reason to feel a little reluctant to part ways.
“Until we meet again, please take care.”
“May you accomplish your great undertaking.”
As Geom Mugeuk turned to leave, the Ice Palace Master called out from behind.
“Be sure to invite Seol when the Gathering of Successors is held.”
It was her way of expressing her will to send her daughter to the Central Plains. Yes, if Geom Mugeuk was waiting there, she could trust and send her without worry.
Geom Mugeuk gave a wide smile and replied with a teasing remark, its meaning ambiguous.
“Of course. We’ll have to invite her—if only to see how well our Young Palace Master dances.”
Before leaving, Geom Mugeuk stood side by side with the Drunken Demon atop the summit of the Snowy Mountains.
“It’s only because you came with me that we were able to pull this off.”
It was a sincere confession. Had he come alone, he wouldn’t have been able to handle such a grand conspiracy. He had killed the Blood King, yes, but when considering the path leading up to that point—it wasn’t something he could’ve managed alone.
“If I’d come alone, I wouldn’t even have gotten this cup of liquor, and I would’ve still been the last one to return every time we came back from missions.”
He was subtly pressuring him to come to him first next time, but such things didn’t work on Geom Mugeuk.
“I’ll still show up last, Brother.”
“Why on earth?”
“Because it’s easier.”
“You mean because I’m easy!”
“I mean because after seeing everyone else, I can have a peaceful drink with you at the end.”
“Nice excuse.”
Even if he didn’t come last—or didn’t come at all—there was no way Geom Mugeuk could truly make him feel slighted.
On this journey, not only had they grown closer, but he also felt like he had come to understand the Drunken Demon a little better.
The two of them quietly took in the majestic snowy landscape that could only be seen from the summit of the Snowy Mountains.
Before descending the mountain, they shared a drink.
The final cup, they tossed into the air from the very peak.
“Former Master Brewer, thanks for the drink!”