Chapter 357
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 357
Chapter Title: Flowers Blooming in the Snow
When a common enemy appears, psychological distances naturally close.
After Gwang Yeomra and the Left Protector showed up, the distance between Dang Mujin’s group and Baek Hyanga had visibly shortened.
Unlike before, when they kept enough space that they couldn’t even see each other, now Dang Mujin’s group and Baek Hyanga walked close enough to chat.
If not for the slightly awkward vibe between Hyeon-gong and Baek Hyanga, they would have looked like any ordinary traveling party.
Baek Hyanga stretched her arms with a yawn.
“Finally feels like all my worries are gone.”
“What worries?”
“The Demonic Cult guys won’t come at us again, right?”
Dang Mujin replied in an uncertain tone.
“Hope so.”
“Why? Something bothering you?”
“A little.”
From Dang Mujin’s experience, Demonic Cult warriors never retreated cleanly.
They’d bolt the moment things looked messy, but they never gave up easily, circling around and waiting for an opening. That was their habit.
Baek Hyanga said,
“Anyway, I was surprised. The second they thought the situation was bad, they didn’t hesitate to run. That’s not how I pictured Absolute Peak Experts...”
In truth, it made perfect sense for Demonic Cult figures to flee so readily. Most of them had stirred up trouble in the Central Plains and fled back to the cult, after all.
Righteous Sect warriors, on the other hand, often clung to their pride even in life-or-death situations, holding out until they died.
“I used to think that way too. But from my experience, the higher a martial artist’s level, the more they value their life.”
“Why’s that?”
“Anyone who doesn’t and dies young can’t reach Absolute Peak. Plus, those experts have so much to lose—they hate dying even more. They’d rather take a hit to their pride than risk their neck.”
Exceptions like Yujin Gwang were rare.
In the past, the Three-Eyed Buddha Namgung Jincheon had fled at the sight of Gakseon.
The Left Protector had bowed and groveled the instant he met Hwayeon Divine Nun.
No need to even mention Gwang Yeomra. He’d fled and crossed paths so many times that Dang Mujin almost felt familiar with him now.
Namgung Myeong, who had been listening silently, cut in with a jab.
“Peak nobodies blabbering like they know Absolute Peak minds. Quite the ridiculous sight. Makes me chuckle.”
“Just saying it’s more or less that.”
Dang Mujin’s realm wasn’t Absolute Peak, but his mindset was similar.
Back in his second- or first-rate days, he’d thrown himself into fights recklessly multiple times. Lately, though, he’d been unconsciously holding back.
He had so much to show for his efforts. And he didn’t want to throw it all away and die.
That applied to Dang Mujin too.
Unconsciously, he wondered.
Was it because of all his lingering attachments that he was stuck in the Peak realm, unable to advance alone to Absolute Peak?
Maybe a little. But he doubted that was the whole reason.
*
Before long, the group of six hurried north, deploying lightness skills.
Baek Hyanga’s complexion wasn’t great after overusing her Pure Origin True Qi in the last fight.
Yet as they headed north, her expression brightened instead. Traveling with the group seemed to have lifted her mental burden.
The sudden cold snap helped her too.
Dang Mujin’s group was miserable in the chill, but Baek Hyanga was different. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she thrived on yin energy.
At any rate, the weather had turned brutally cold out of nowhere.
Just three days ago, it had felt merely chilly, with breath visible in the air.
But the evening before last, even breathing sent out thick white puffs from the nose. And yesterday afternoon, blizzards had started howling.
Namgung Myeong, born in warmer lands, looked especially wretched. Even huddled by a fire, he shivered pathetically in his sleep—a sight to behold.
Of course, Dang Mujin, Hyeon-gong, and Hong Geolgae had watched while shivering themselves.
But the four men in the group couldn’t bring themselves to ask Seolhwa or Baek Hyanga when the weather might warm up.
It was that fragile male pride. Asking first would feel like losing.
After enduring another full day of freezing hell, Namgung Myeong finally cracked and asked Seolhwa.
“Seolhwa.”
“Yeah?”
“When’ll it warm up?”
A thick smirk spread across the lips of the other three men. They’d caught their chance to tease him.
But the urge to rib Namgung Myeong vanished in an instant. Seolhwa’s answer was too shocking.
“Why would it warm up?”
It carried a world of implications. Everyone reeled.
“It’ll stay this cold forever?”
“Nah.”
“Then when...”
“It’ll get colder. It’s still warm now.”
Namgung Myeong instantly wanted to turn south.
Northern cold wasn’t mere discomfort—it was survival territory.
As his face twisted, Seolhwa said brightly,
“Just a bit farther. It’ll get better.”
“You said it’d get colder, so better how...”
“Trust me.”
Namgung Myeong grumbled as he walked.
At least seeing his friends suffer too was some comfort. He wouldn’t freeze alone, at least.
After trudging another half-day through blinding snow, something dark moved in the distance.
It was a herd of reindeer, each the size of a man, with shaggy fur. Dang Mujin’s eyes naturally went to the massive antlers on their heads—far bigger than any he’d seen.
As he drifted toward them like a moth to flame, he spotted people following the herd.
Namgung Myeong’s eyes lit up at the sight. Their clothes looked incredibly warm.
The people wore thick reindeer hides with the fur still attached.
Even the kids dressed similarly.
The little ones waddled in fur outfits reaching their ankles, looking like tiny cones with arms—adorably so.
Namgung Myeong eyed their hides with dangerous glint. The thief was turning bandit.
But before he could act, Seolhwa stepped in.
“Wait here a sec.”
She approached the people. They startled at her face, bowed deeply, then brought over a small sled pulled by reindeer.
It was loaded with thick fur clothes and boots.
“Wow!”
Dang Mujin’s group happily picked out outfits.
They smelled musty and restricted movement, but anything beat the northern freeze.
The herders bowed to Seolhwa, then vanished with the herd before thanks could be given.
Dang Mujin asked belatedly,
“You buy this?”
“Nope. Just got it.”
“...How?”
“My dad’s the North Sea Ice Palace Lord.”
Dang Mujin recalled their demeanor.
That wasn’t the reaction of folks robbed by some high-and-mighty figure.
It was more like a neighbor slipping treats to the kid next door. Pure goodwill, no strings.
Seolhwa said,
“Everyone in the North respects and follows the North Sea Ice Palace Lord. I’m just borrowing his halo.”
She said it matter-of-factly.
Yet from what Dang Mujin knew, nobles rarely won the hearts of commoners. Why would everyday folk admire those living in luxury worlds apart?
Seolhwa continued,
“Not many covet the palace lord seat. Sure, there’s wealth and honor, but the duties and responsibilities outweigh them by far. Plenty die fighting invaders or from overwork. Bet most North Sea Ice Palace Lords don’t die of old age. And it’s not just the lord—the family, starting with the Ice Palace Lady, shares the burden.”
Dang Mujin had figured as much.
Sending his daughter on a perilous mission to retrieve Baek Hyanga, the spiritual medicine, and manual from distant lands? That alone was extraordinary.
In Central Plains terms, it was like an emperor sending his eldest son alone to the Western Regions.
“The North Sea Ice Palace Lord seat can go to a woman too. Used to think it was normal, but after seeing the Central Plains, I realized it’s unusual. Probably started as a safeguard for when there’s no son who wants it.”
“I see.”
The group left footprints in the pristine snow.
A picturesque scene, but those tracks worried Dang Mujin. How could they hide their trail with prints like that?
He fretted inwardly. He had a feeling they’d run into Demonic Cult warriors again before reaching the palace.
*
Ominous premonitions never miss.
The next day, Dang Mujin’s worry came true. A group appeared from the south, tailing them.
About a dozen strong. Wearing thick fur like Dang Mujin’s group, faces weren’t visible.
Hong Geolgae said,
“Demonic Cult?”
“Most likely... yeah, definitely.”
A dozen pursuers, each with a weapon at the waist. Not the crude northern nomad blades, but swords suited for Central Plains swordsmanship.
This was terrible news for Dang Mujin’s group.
The Demonic Cult knew their strength almost exactly.
Chasing them in this situation meant they had the power to take them down.
Even lowballing it, they could put up a real fight.
“Seolhwa. How long to the North Sea Ice Palace?”
“Still a full day.”
Fight was inevitable.
The two groups drew closer. The blizzard intensified.
Namgung Myeong asked Dang Mujin,
“Since we’re fighting anyway, how about hitting ‘em first?”
“Tough.”
The raging blizzard was one issue; their thick furs another.
A whirling wheel dart might not pierce oil-slicked hides through the storm.
Better to trust poison arts and sword. Dang Mujin fiddled with his sword hilt after ages. The feel was strangely foreign.
Finally, Dang Mujin’s group halted and turned.
Up close, they saw the pursuers’ faces. Sure enough, Gwang Yeomra and Left Protector Yeon Sa-uk were there.
Oddly, they’d all wrapped fur around their ears tightly. Not from the cold, clearly.
Dang Mujin and his friends whispered.
Dang Mujin spoke first.
“How many? Can’t tell. Three?”
“Looks like three to me.”
“Three or four. Nah, that spear guy behind looks off too. Worst case, five.”
They weren’t counting heads—they were tallying Absolute Peak Experts among the Demonic Cult warriors.
A suffocating number.
Years had passed since fleeing the cult.
Sure, he’d expected a few more Absolute Peaks to emerge. His own group had gained three in that time.
With the cult leader personally teaching, multiple achievements were natural.
But this many here? He debated fleeing right now.
“Actually, perfect.”
Baek Hyanga stepped forward. Unlike the others, she hadn’t worn reindeer hide from the start.
Her lips were blue, like someone long exposed to the cold.
But not just from the northern chill.
“Been too long since I took any yang energy. Starting to feel like dying.”
Baek Hyanga sustained herself on men’s yang energy. Even now, with Pure Origin True Qi drained and life ebbing, it held.
Lately, though, she hadn’t killed. Partly because Dang Mujin’s group wouldn’t allow it, but mostly because she didn’t want to.
She wouldn’t steal innocent lives just to delay death a few days.
The sole exception? Those Demonic Cult warriors.
Baek Hyanga stepped up and drew a deep breath.
The blizzard gained immense chill. Her long hair whipped wildly in the wind. It suited her eerily well.
She said,
“No one on our side gets hurt today.”
“What about you?”
“Bad luck, I die. If needed, I’ll burn every last drop of Pure Origin True Qi.”
Death loomed. Yet she seemed to relish this.
No one ordered or begged her. She chose her end. That satisfied her.
“If I die, at least collect my body?”
“...Don’t worry. But let’s walk together if we can.”
That ended the talk. Only the howling blizzard remained.
No one planned to let her go alone. Hong Geolgae, with the strongest sense of justice, took a step forward.
Then the unexpected: the Demonic Cult warriors hesitated and retreated. Not one step—three, five, ten.
Hong Geolgae yelled excitedly.
“See that? That’s me! My fame reached the distant Tianshan!”
No one paid him mind, of course.
Dang Mujin thought,
‘Baek Hyanga?’
No, impossible. She was within their expectations. Then why?
Everyone but Hong Geolgae turned back simultaneously.
From the north, through the blizzard, three figures approached.
The leader wore clothes of pure white reindeer fur, hatless unlike the rest.
Middle-aged. His hair mixed gold and white, streaming in the wind.
A total stranger. Yet Dang Mujin knew him instantly.
Seolhwa lowered her stance and said to the man,
“I’m back. Father.”
Not in Central Plains tongue.
But no one in Dang Mujin’s group missed her short words.