The Princess of the North Sea Ice Palace
The day before entering the dungeon, I'd gotten that message through the contact info I'd swapped with Deputy Nam Juyeong at our drinking session.
Since it was an A-rank dungeon, I took his advice and prepared properly. I'd even gone to a department store and splurged on a decent puffer jacket.
But the moment we stepped inside, forget any temperature control magic—this overwhelming cold wave had us beat.
"'A bit' cold, my ass!!"
"This is just brisk, isn't it?"
"This level of cold?"
"This place is colder than the fucking Arctic, you idiots!"
In the middle of a snow-blanketed plain, the temperature had plunged past minus 35 degrees.
As planned, it was me, Senior Hyeji, and Deputy Juyeong representing the Association—but those two were high-rank hunters, so they weren't sharing my misery.
My hands and feet were going numb right now. What the hell was this "brisk weather" bullshit?
"Ughhh... my body's freezing solid...!"
"You're the one with an ice mana affinity—how are you this weak to the cold?"
"What do you expect from a C-rank?"
Mana affinity or not, I was legit about to freeze to death.
I'd thought doing my military service in Gangwon-do had made me somewhat cold-resistant, but this was on another level entirely.
"We'll get there soon, just hang in there a bit."
"Why the hell did our starting point have to be 2km away...?"
"Beats me. Oh, there it is."
Saying that, the deputy pointed in one direction with his tiny hand.
A fortress encircled by massive walls, blanketed in ice.
"That's the North Sea Ice Palace."
The stage for this dungeon had revealed itself.
"Looks like another 30 minutes on foot."
"Ah."
The A-rank dungeon we were tackling this time was called "Northern Citadel". A martial world-themed dungeon where achieving the objective at the North Sea Ice Palace—one of the major powers in the outer martial realms—cleared it.
Obviously, it wasn't something brutal like "wipe out the entire North Sea Ice Palace"—more of a moderate goal.
"So the palace lord position is vacant right now?"
"Strictly speaking, yeah."
At the point we started our raid, the North Sea Ice Palace's lord was an empty seat.
Apparently, he'd marched off with his army to conquer the central plains, got his ass handed to him by the righteous sects, and then committed seppuku out of shame or whatever. Not my business, though.
Anyway, with the faction's leader gone, they needed to appoint a new palace lord.
In this situation, we were playing kingmaker, helping one of the candidates claim the throne.
Basically, pick one of the lord's kids and back them. If our pick becomes lord, we get some scraps.
"Cheonam Guild's handling internal security as the guard unit... and we're the remnants, right?"
"Not remnants, dude. Say we're the core forces who barely survived the failed martial conquest."
"Whoa, already method acting?"
"Call it pro spirit."
Cheonam Guild was the North Sea Ice Palace's internal security guard unit; we were the survivors from the army that followed on the martial conquest.
Neither side seemed politically influential at first glance, but in the current Ice Palace—where the lord, elders, and key fighters had all charged into the central plains and died—we'd have some sway.
When the tiger's away, the fox will play king, after all.
"But for a place where the lord died, everyone seems pretty lively."
"To the civilians living in the fortress, he was probably just some distant figure they barely knew."
We trudged through the brutally cold snowfield into the fortress, greeted by a tolerable temperature and a bustling market.
It was heartening to see such industrious life even in this remote outpost, but it felt a bit off too.
Wouldn't people usually mourn when their leader dies?
"Hey, Jang! One drink today too?"
"I caught a big one today—let's have it as anju!"
"Haha, sorry, the wife's waiting. Next time!"
No matter how you sliced it, this looked more like joy than mourning. Was this just the martial world style?
"Heard the lord jacked taxes to 60% for his central plains war."
"60%? That's insane."
"Good riddance, that fucker."
Huh, that explained it.
If the president tried hiking taxes tenfold for a war with America, I'd be making voodoo dolls too.
"...So what now? Wait for Cheonam Guild?"
"They'll take an hour to get here. You wanna just sit on our asses? Let's grab some food first."
We'd arrived at the meeting spot first by chance. I was already a bit hungry, and with time to kill before Cheonam showed, we decided to eat.
"How about that place? Looks like a pasta joint."
"Pasta in the martial world? That's clearly a noodle house."
"Ugh, such a boomer vibe..."
"...No matter how you look at it, the branch chief fucked up hiring this newbie."
We entered the restaurant with the biggest sign, and warm air filled my lungs. Wow, even the North Sea Ice Palace had heating.
"Ahh, so warm. I can live now."
"Boss! Orders here."
Currency in the martial world wasn't copper, silver, gold—it was bronze coins, silver coins, gold coins.
Obviously couldn't use 50,000-won bills, so we exchanged through the system. Usually one person fronted the cash and we split it after the raid.
"Why's it always feel like I'm paying?"
"Hyeji senior said you would..."
"Dude, become a man and treat the ladies."
"You're all 'kid' treatment normally, but big man now? Geez."
But in our team, the deputy was covering it.
Dunno why. It just ended up that way. His family's loaded anyway, so no biggie. I just gratefully accept.
"Smoked salmon and noodles for me."
"I'll have braised salmon."
"Noodles and salmon for me too!"
"Coming right up."
The kindly-looking chef pulled noodles from under a pot lid and cooked fish from jars.
"Here, our house specialties. Enjoy."
"Wow, thanks for the meal!"
Steaming noodles and warm fish dishes—probably kept on a heated floor.
This made the North Sea feel livable.
Right up until the first bite.
"This is disgustingly salty."
"Insanely salty."
"More water, please."
They salted the hell out of everything to prevent spoilage.
"Oi, boss! Gimme some rice wine!"
"Drinking on a raid?"
"What else? Too salty to eat."
Well, as long as it wasn't high-proof, no big issue... but drinking on duty?
"We don't serve booze to kids."
"I'm an adult."
"Bullshit. Eat your noodles, kid."
Huh, no need to worry after all.
The deputy didn't push it further, so he'd just been testing.
"I'm the oldest here, and this is how you treat me?"
"Aww, did that hurt your feelings?"
"Kim Hyeji, submit a self-criticism report for insubordination when we get back."
Senior Hyeji teased the deputy; I chuckled along beside them.
A rare peaceful moment mid-raid.
And like always, vibes like this never lasted over 10 minutes.
"Grab that fucking bitch!!"
Sudden commotion from upstairs, and something crashed onto our table.
"Gahk...!"
"Downstairs! Go!!"
On our half-smashed table writhed an 18-ish girl like a dying bug.
Huh, boss threw in an underage girl as service? No fucking way.
"My salmon!!"
"Is that what matters right now?!"
Open brawls in broad daylight—rumors that inns in the martial world rivaled coliseums as battlegrounds weren't for nothing.
Thugs thundering down from upstairs? Obvious scenario: trying to grab the girl for something nasty.
"H-help me..."
"Was gonna anyway."
I didn't want to stir up trouble, but with the record broadcast live nationwide, I couldn't ignore injustice.
"Hey, wench. Hand her over, no trouble."
"Wench? What the fuck."
I'm a dude, asshole.
This bandit-looking prick's eyes kept drifting to my chest—made my skin crawl.
"What'd she do? Kill your parents or something?"
"Exactly. Her dad killed mine."
"Uh... for real?"
"Not just that. Neighbor Kang's wife, leatherwork Wang's son, fisherman Old Hong's grandson..."
...What kind of serial killer dad is this? That many bodies?
"Anyway. Strangers, butt out."
"Kid's innocent, though."
"That man's bloodline must end."
"Who the hell even is her dad...?"
Trembling behind Senior Hyeji like any ordinary girl, but what kind of father gets her this treatment? Curiosity piqued, but if it's a bad call, I loop back.
I pushed harder.
"Does she have sins then?"
"...Her father's sins are grave."
"Not a convincing excuse."
The bandit dude looked pissed but clammed up.
Not because of logic— he couldn't gauge my strength.
Sensei pinged him at best E-rank, third-rate martial artist.
Fit civilian level. No match for me, looking like a sword-wearing martial artist. My confidence unnerved him.
"Hand over the kid."
"Nope."
Tension thick as a powder keg.
In the escalating standoff, I wasn't the one who backed down first.
"...Let's go."
The bandit pondered, then led his gang out.
They glared murderously, but my decision stood.
"You'll regret this."
"I don't do regrets."
I'll loop if I need to.
"Phew, resolved nicely."
"Yeah."
Made enemies, but no fight—fine. Not worth fretting over scrubs. Loop if issues arise.
"Th-thanks..."
"Yeah. Be more careful from now on."
The kid shuffled up timidly with thanks.
Huh, hadn't seen properly in the chaos, but up close...
"You two kinda look alike."
"Even to you, senior?"
White hair, blue eyes.
Not identical, but believable as distant cousins.
"Kiddo. Where are your parents?"
"I-I'm not a kid! And my parents are all dead..."
"Uh... sorry."
"...If you're sorry, grant my request."
No sadness despite the sore spot; she straightened her clothes and met my eyes calmly.
Too composed for someone who'd just cheated death. Her blue eyes gleamed as she pointed at me and declared,
"This lady is Baek Ye-hwa, youngest daughter of the North Sea Ice Palace lord and next in line! Escort this lady to the main palace!"
"Pardon?"
What the hell is this now?