A Good Person Is One Who Feeds You Well! (2)
A space swallowed by thick, clinging darkness.
Only a few small candles glimmered feebly in the gloom. Light was meant to drive back the dark, and yet the darkness in this place ignored that law and even seemed to press the flame down beneath its weight.
As the candles trembled and flickered with difficulty, a bitter cold swept through the room, the kind that felt as if it might freeze even a man’s breath in his throat.
If there were such a thing as a true hell of ice, wouldn’t it look something like this?
At the center of that dismal, barren place lay a man prostrate on the floor.
What was the greatest respect a human being could show?
This man might have been the answer.
With his head, both elbows, and both knees pressed to the ground, he endured the hellish wind pouring over him, offering the most profound reverence as though even the pain of the cold were something to be grateful for.
A massive cloth hung from the ceiling before his eyes like a sacred idol. The figure embroidered upon it was grotesque enough to send a chill down the spine.
Three heads and six arms.
The huge image of a three-headed, six-armed asura fluttered in the wind.
No matter how iron-clad a person’s nerves were, they could not help but feel fear before that shape.
And yet the man bowed before it felt no fear at all. Only boundless reverence remained.
“...The Heavenly Demon descends, and ten thousand demons rejoice.”
A voice like iron scraping against iron rose from the man’s throat.
“The Heavenly Demon descends, and ten thousand demons rejoice.”
How many times had he repeated that phrase?
Thousands, tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of millions.
He had memorized it again and again, but all through that long passage of time it had remained nothing more than a wish on the wind.
And yet, after all that endurance, now it would soon...
Thud!
Suddenly, the man slammed his head hard against the floor. Then he pressed down harder with his elbows and knees.
Repetition always left its mark. One could tell just how many times he had performed the same act, for the spot on the cave floor where he had knelt was etched almost like a hollow dug out over time.
“I offer it.”
It was the moment when that supremely reverent rite was underway.
Step. Step. Step.
A tiny set of footsteps sounded from behind him.
The careful steps, as though every nerve were focused on the tips of the feet, stopped some distance away. Then a small, tense voice came from the dark.
“Bishop.”
“...”
Even after hearing himself addressed, the man did not so much as twitch.
“...Bishop. I have something to report.”
Only after offering worship with the last shred of his soul did he slowly lift his head and look ahead.
The giant asura image swayed ominously.
His gaze remained fixed, yet it seemed not to rest only there. It was clear he was looking past the image, toward something beyond it.
“The Heavenly Demon descends, and ten thousand demons rejoice.”
He muttered it low, with a voice bright and fervent, before smashing his forehead against the floor again.
And then.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
Keeping both arms, both knees, and his head pressed to the ground, he crawled backward out of that spot.
Even the emperor himself would not have been shown such reverence.
No one was watching him, no one was threatening him to maintain the rite, and yet the man never forgot his worship for even a moment. He endured the pain entirely with his own flesh, without drawing up even a thread of inner energy.
He only raised his body slowly after reaching the edge of the space.
Drip.
The skin of his forehead, rubbed raw against the floor, had split open, and blood was running down. But he made no move to wipe it away. Instead, he turned his head to look at the person still prostrate on the ground.
In eyes that had been lost to a single devotion, a killing intent colder than a north wind flickered to life.
“How dare you...”
At once, the force radiating from his body began to crush the man bowed before him.
Crack, crack, crack.
The prostrate man’s entire body twisted.
“Ghk...”
The sound of bones grinding and breaking seeped out from every part of him, enough to raise gooseflesh. But the one suffering under it did not even dare cry out. He knew that the instant he opened his mouth again and dirtied this place with his breath, an unimaginable and horrific death would be waiting for him.
“To dare interrupt the rite of ascension. Must your body be torn to shreds and your soul burned in the flames of karma before you understand your sin?”
Blood streamed from the man’s nose and mouth. Still, he did not move even an inch, only waiting for the bishop’s judgment.
Watching that with cold eyes, the bishop let out an emotionless voice.
“Speak. If you have something to say worth staking your life on, then hearing it before I kill you would be the proper thing to do.”
“B-Bishop.”
“Speak.”
The man on the ground forced out his voice through the agony.
“Black Twenty-Seven... has not returned.”
The moment the words ended, the pressure that had been crushing him vanished as cleanly as if it had never existed.
Thud!
He toppled over from the sudden release, smashing his head against the floor, then hurriedly prostrated himself again.
“It has not returned?”
“That is correct.”
The one called Bishop fell silent for a moment, as if lost in thought.
This was the White Land.
Dangerous, yes, but there were none here who could interfere with them.
“What mission had Black Twenty-Seven been assigned?”
“It was tasked with spying on the common houses of the North Sea.”
The bishop looked down at the prostrate man with a slight tilt of his head.
Hardly a difficult mission. Which meant there was only one possible implication in its failure to return.
Seeing the bishop deepen in thought, the man on the floor spoke carefully.
“Shall I investigate?”
After some deliberation, the bishop spoke.
“At worst, some fools who know no better must have caught a scent and come sniffing around...”
His eyes gleamed coldly.
“They say even the wisest can make a single mistake. Find them. Find them and watch them. If, by some chance, their existence ruins the plan, then even if you burn for an eternity in the fires of hell, you will never wash away that sin.”
“I will obey.”
After issuing the order, the bishop shot the prostrate man a narrow glare.
“This one time, I will forgive your mistake. Remember this well. The reason you are still alive is that even your rudeness came from loyalty directed toward the Heavenly Demon. If not for that reason, I would never have left you alive.”
“I am deeply grateful.”
Thud!
The man slammed his forehead hard against the floor. Blood quickly began to flow, but he seemed to think nothing of it.
The bishop regarded him in silence for a moment, then said slowly, “The time of his return draws near.”
His gaze had already returned to the asura image, and now it blazed with joy and madness.
“At last, after one hundred years of waiting, the fruit is ready to be plucked. Just a few more days. Compared to the long years behind us, it is no more than an instant.”
The prostrate man trembled violently, unable to contain his excitement.
The bishop’s voice echoed through the dark, frozen chamber.
“On the day the One True Lord descends upon this land once more, the world will be swallowed by flames of purification.”
“The Heavenly Demon descends! Ten thousand demons rejoice!”
“On that day, those deceitful unbelievers will burn in the fire that overturns the world, and the apostates who refused to believe in the Heavenly Demon’s return will pay dearly for their arrogance masquerading as faith.”
Joy flickered in the bishop’s eyes, as though infernal flames were already wavering before him.
But only for a moment. Soon enough, his gaze hardened again into something cold.
“I will not allow even the smallest mistake. Prepare accordingly.”
“I will remember it, and remember it again.”
When he had finished speaking, the bishop fell silent, staring at the asura image. The prostrate man quietly rose and left the cave.
Left alone, the bishop spoke softly.
“Heavenly Demon.”
The voice spreading through the cave was heavy with resentment.
“Accept this body as sacrifice, and descend upon the world to punish those filthy sinners.”
Slowly, the man sank to his knees. Then he began to move once more toward the center of the cave.
With the lowest, humblest posture, having laid everything down before it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Wow...”
“That’s incredible.”
As soon as they passed through the pure white fortress wall and stepped inside, a world unlike anything they had ever seen opened before them.
The disciples of Mount Hua stared wide-eyed, looking around again and again.
Rows of buildings stood in a strange style not seen in the Central Plains. It felt less like a sect and more like a city.
“No wonder the walls were so huge.”
“It’s like a provincial capital in the Central Plains.”
It wasn’t exactly a new style, but the fact that a city of such scale existed in this barren land of the North Sea was deeply astonishing.
People could be seen walking between the buildings that looked like common residences. They, too, kept glancing at the Mount Hua disciples, unable to look away.
“They must not see Central Plains people very often. They look extremely curious.”
At Yoon Jong’s remark, Jo Gul answered with a sour expression.
“Maybe they’re just surprised that people actually pull carts.”
“...”
Ah. Right.
They’d gotten so used to it that they’d stopped thinking about it.
At that moment, Dang Soso’s eyes quickly swept over the surroundings. After examining the people’s faces, she asked the North Sea swordsman guiding them, “Are all of these people Ice Palace members?”
The stern-faced man leading the way turned to look back at her, his expression stiffening.
He seemed to consider something for a moment before speaking quietly. It looked as if he had decided it would be hard to ignore a question from a guest recognized by the Palace Lord.
“Not quite.”
“Then who are they?”
“They are residents of the North Sea. ‘Ice Palace members’ refers to those who learn the martial arts of the Ice Palace. These people are merely ordinary residents who have received the Ice Palace’s grace.”
Dang Soso nodded faintly.
It seemed to be a setup similar to Danggata, where the descendants of the Dang Family lived together.
The man, having watched her expression, added something she had not even asked.
“The Ice Palace never hesitates to grant favor to those who trust and follow it. And everyone here trusts the Ice Palace completely.”
Dang Soso’s eyes narrowed slightly in displeasure.
Just as she was about to speak, Yu I-seol quickly tugged lightly at her sleeve to stop her.
“...”
In the end, Dang Soso shut her mouth with visible reluctance.
Just as the atmosphere was starting to turn awkward, Chung Myung, who had been following behind, spoke up.
“So where are we going now?”
“To the Ice Palace, of course.”
The man raised his head and looked toward the towering fortress as he answered.
“You are guests of the Ice Palace.”
“Hmm.”
Chung Myung smiled faintly, as though amused. Baek Ah, clinging to his neck like a scarf, rubbed its head against his chin.
After walking along the road toward the center of the village for quite some time, they finally reached the Ice Palace.
“Our guests have arrived!”
At the guiding man’s shout, the tightly shut doors swung open wide to either side.
“Please enter.”
“Yes.”
Baek Cheon replied for the group and turned to look back at the others.
“Don’t do anything rash.”
When he warned them in a low voice, Chung Myung clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“Tsk, tsk. They’re not children.”
“Chung Myung.”
“Yeah?”
“You. I mean you.”
“What? Do you really think there’s another person in this world as prudent as me?”
“...There definitely shouldn’t be someone else like you.”
That would be the end of the world. The end.
Baek Cheon let out a long sigh, set down the cart, and stepped forward. The Mount Hua disciples followed him into the Ice Palace.
A moment later, all of them had their mouths slightly open in a daze.
“...It’s gorgeous.”
“It is.”
The corridor leading inward had been decorated with extravagant splendor. The walls were hung with fabrics that looked lavish at a glance, and the ornaments placed at intervals were clearly valuable and rare even to their untrained eyes.
What was even more impressive was that every inch of the corridor had been decorated in the same way.
Used to simplicity and raised in a Daoist tradition, the Mount Hua disciples could not help but feel a subtle resistance to such dazzling excess.
And apparently that was true for Hye Yeon, who had grown up in Shaolin, as well.
“Amitabha. It is truly excessively splendid.”
“Isn’t it?”
“If the money used to decorate this place were spent elsewhere, so many more people could be helped.”
Everyone seemed to agree with Hye Yeon, nodding along.
But then...
“Heh-heh!”
“...”
A blatantly mocking snort came from behind them. Hye Yeon turned around with a sour look.
As expected, Chung Myung was staring at him with a face full of disdain.
“Monk... why are you at it again?”
“No, well. I’d let anyone else say that, but it’s funny coming from you.”
“...What do you mean?”
“Do you even know how much a single golden Buddha statue in Shaolin is worth? What? This place is too lavish? Hey, if you sold just one Hall of Great Heroic Deeds, you could feed an entire village! One village!”
“Th-that’s...”
“And you’ve got the nerve to criticize someone else for this? Do you really think there’s a sect in the Central Plains richer than Shaolin? No, this place is better! Stuffing away dozens of golden Buddha statues you can’t even use, and you have the gall to call this lavish? Tch!”
As Chung Myung’s ruthless tirade poured down, Hye Yeon drooped, utterly deflated. Chung Myung shook his head and drove the point home.
“Anyway, humans never notice the beam in their own eye!”
Baek Cheon, unable to listen any longer, let out a sigh and tried to rein him in.
“Why are you scolding poor Hye Yeon when he wasn’t the one who made those statues?”
“Then why does the Shaolin abbot scold people too!”
...
Huh?
Come to think of it?
Baek Cheon nearly accepted it blankly before shaking his head hard and coming to his senses.
“Ahem. In any case, keep quiet. This is the Ice Palace.”
“What, as if the Ice Palace is some huge deal.”
“...Please, for the love of all that is holy, just shut that mouth of yours!”
Baek Cheon’s face twisted violently, as though he were about to burst into flames from the inside.
Is it really safe to meet the Palace Lord with this guy in tow?
Maybe we should turn around now...
But unfortunately, that thought had already come far too late. The moment it crossed his mind, the corridor ended and a vast great hall came into view.
“Wow...”
“Wah...”
The Mount Hua disciples’ eyes widened.
And no wonder—the large jade throne at the center was shining white and brilliant.
“I-Is that platinum?”
“A platinum throne, my goodness.”
“...Rich.”
That last remark, naturally, came from Chung Myung.
He kept looking around, his eyes gleaming. Like a hawk searching for prey.
But unlike him, the other disciples looked somewhat intimidated, as though overwhelmed by the splendor.
At that very moment—
“The Palace Lord arrives!”
With a booming voice, the door opposite the one they had entered swung open wide.
And a broad-shouldered man wearing white bear fur strode in with great confidence.
So that’s the Ice Palace Lord.
Indeed.
He was a man with a solid build, pale skin, and a long scar cutting across his face, all of which left a strong impression. He walked straight toward Chung Myung and the others.
Step. Step. Step.
His bearing was by no means inferior to the absolute masters the Mount Hua disciples had met so far. As expected of the lord of the North Sea Ice Palace, the position was not one to be taken lightly.
But...
Why does he keep coming?
Where is he going?
They had assumed he would stop at a respectful distance and head for the throne, but instead the man kept walking straight toward them.
Step.
Before long, he stopped just a single step ahead of Baek Cheon and Chung Myung and shot them a cold, hard stare.
“...”
“...”
Chilling tension hung in the air. It was hard to breathe.
And then—
Smile.
The man’s face suddenly softened, and he broke into a warm, almost friendly grin.
“Which one of you is the Mount Hua Divine Dragon?”
“Me.”
As soon as Chung Myung answered, the Ice Palace Lord abruptly reached out and clamped his hand around Chung Myung’s.
“I heard all about you from my beast palace lord! Welcome! The Ice Palace truly welcomes Mount Hua Sect!”
The Ice Palace Lord smiled with great brightness and shook Chung Myung’s hand vigorously.
Huh?
This was a little different from what they had imagined.
...Could this gentleman be a good person?
No way, surely not?