Myoeun’s memory faded, and the light returned to her vision. The experience of witnessing an entire life left a lingering weight behind. So Yeon couldn't speak for a while. Judging by the lack of physical discomfort, not much time had passed. Though Yeon felt she had seen so much, it must have been only a fleeting moment. And that, too, mirrored a human life—brief, and yet profound. The sound of soft sniffles stirred Yeon from her thoughts. The one crying was none other than Tang Soso. Beside her sat Gongye, wearing an expression Yeon had never seen before. His eyes were wet, his face blank, as though his soul had left his body. Cheongang, at least, was the most composed of them. Rather than sad, he looked deep in thought. What was he thinking, having just seen the person who had killed his mother? Was he burning with vengeance— or was he, perhaps, sympathizing with Myoeun and Ha Eunseol, who had both been wounded beyond repair by the Cult Master of Flame? Myoeun and Ha Eunseol. The truth Yeon had just learned carried a grief that was hard to put into words. But beyond that sorrow came something larger— a fury so deep it felt like lightning in her chest was ready to burst forth. The Cult Master of Flame had always been an enemy to defeat— but he was an abstract one, a faceless evil. She had never met him. In truth, she had never even wanted to. But now—right now—Yeon genuinely wanted to face him. Why did it have to be this way? Was it to obtain the Ice Crystal? To become the greatest under heaven? To dominate Zhongyuan? Was it truly... for reasons as shallow as that? For the first time in her life, Yeon felt a deep and bitter hatred toward a single person. She wanted to return everything he had done—exactly as he had done it. That was the only justice that made sense. But was that even possible? When she thought of everything the Cult Master of Flame had done, she couldn’t imagine how to balance such a tilted scale. it didn’t feel like that would be enough. Then, Myoeun’s voice spoke. [It was good that I showed you the memory.] [I used to feel frustrated, not knowing why I was still here. But now I understand. I still had something left to say to her.] Something left unsaid. But the Ice Palace Lord... [That’s probably why I begged you to take me with you. I thought she was living well. Even if the walls of ice around her were a little suffocating... Even if the burden of being the Palace Lord weighed heavily on her... Still. As long as she was alive.] Myoeun’s usually calm voice faltered. Not only Yeon, but the others holding the prayer beads likely felt it too. [I thought... as long as she was alive... it would be okay.] The prayer beads they held began to tremble. No one in the room failed to recognize that thin vibration as the sound of Myoeun’s crying. Yeon parted her lips several times before finally managing to speak. “I’ll find a way. Somehow.” “Irkin said it, didn’t he? That she’s still alive. Whether it’s with this necklace or something else, I’ll find a way to reach her inside the Ice Crystal...” [When we faced the Ice Crystal earlier, I couldn’t feel any trace of Eunseol’s energy. That’s why I got so angry. Because I didn’t want to accept it.] [And what that man—Karaot—said was true. If we tamper with the Ice Crystal carelessly, the Ice Palace could collapse. That necklace can’t be used for such things anymore. Not by anyone but her. There’s no other way.] Yeon realized then that Myoeun had already considered every possible outcome. His brilliance had always allowed him to see one step ahead— and it seemed he had reached despair sooner, too. [Could you just stay at the Ice Palace a little longer? Just until things settle down.] [It’s the Ice Palace she gave her life to protect. I don’t want to see it fall or be invaded. I’ll find a way to repay you. Sorry, I can’t promise that.] Myoeun had already come to accept Eunseol’s death. It wasn’t that he gave up easily— but even now, he understood what had to be done. Before answering, Yeon looked at each of her companions. None of them said a word— but their hearts were the same. “All right. We’ll stay. Don’t worry, Monk.” [Thank you. Your sincerity—] Just then, a sound shattered the Ice Palace’s stillness, sharp as breaking glass. A clanging bell rang out. It was the signal—the ice walls were melting. When they stepped outside, Irkin was already there. “Irkin! What happened?” “The ice wall melted.” Yeon felt an odd sense of unease at how calm Irkin seemed. “It froze again. Ice Crystal... «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» unstable.” “Shouldn’t we go there right now? I’ll stay here and guard the place.” Irkin, his expression dark, slowly shook his head. “It’s fine. Karaot is watching. The Ice Crystal.” Maybe Karaot had his own methods. Though, it didn’t seem like they were working very well. “Urumai was badly hurt.” Piecing together Irkin’s words, it seemed that the ice had melted without warning, and one of the Ice Palace people had been attacked as a result. Fortunately, their life had been spared— but it was no reason to feel safe. The Cult of Flame hadn’t retreated. This could happen again at any time. Irkin bared his rage like a beast showing its fangs. He looked Yeon directly in the eyes and said: “We request. Your help.” “What do you want me to do?” To her question, Irkin turned and left after speaking just one last line: After the incident, security around the ice wall was further tightened. Yi Cheongang was on night watch atop one of the towers. With him and Gongye posted there, the opposite tower—now left unattended—had once again been assigned to a member of the Ice Palace. Having Cheongang present meant that ordinary guards didn’t amount to much. Still, he refrained from saying anything, fully understanding the anxiety the Ice Palace residents must be feeling. Under the moonlight, the ice wall stood solid as if it had never been breached. Perhaps it was because he’d seen Monk Myoeun’s memories— what had always seemed wondrous now made Cheongang feel strangely suffocated. Just then, the Ice Palace person across the way flinched in surprise. Cheongang must’ve let out a deep sigh without realizing it. When he offered an apologetic look, the man responded with an awkward smile. To be so startled by a sigh... It was likely that the prolonged state of threat had worn their nerves thin. Cheongang felt a flicker of sympathy— and along with it, the image of a certain man burned into his mind. The man in Myoeun’s memories—the one who wielded black flame. He matched exactly the image of the man Cheongang remembered as his mother’s killer. That had to be the Cult Master of Flame. In Myoeun’s memory, the Cult Master had suffered internal injuries. Cheongang recognized that immediately. His own father, Yi Baeksan, had shown similar symptoms. It was clear that the fierce duel between his father and the Cult Master had left deep internal wounds on both sides. Even now, Cheongang’s father had not fully healed. And since the Cult Master had taken damage again from Myoeun afterward, he must have fared even worse— yet Cheongang couldn’t shake a creeping sense of unease. He’s not like my father. His father, Yi Baeksan, was a man who pursued only the proper path. His recovery was simple and methodical—constant self-assessment and physical care. But would the Cult Master do the same? Most likely, he would use any means and shortcuts available to rid himself of the injuries— regardless of what sacrifices or horrors it might entail. He wouldn’t care in the slightest. Myoeun’s memory had left Cheongang with lingering inner conflict. Because of the martial art he’d witnessed. The Great Prajñā Vajra Art that Myoeun displayed had completely suppressed the Cult Master’s black flame. Setting aside the issue of internal wounds— that technique was clearly more effective against black flame than any Yi Sect art Cheongang had ever learned. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean Shaolin martial arts were superior to those of the Yi Sect. It was more a matter of counter affinity. Myoeun himself had said as much—hence his words: “Meeting me was your misfortune!” Even so, Cheongang was deeply troubled. Until now, he had never once doubted his own talent or martial arts. Not even when faced with unrivaled prodigies like Yeon or Myoeun. He had always believed— As long as I keep moving forward, I can surpass anyone. That absolute conviction that had upheld Cheongang... Or perhaps, it had never been absolute to begin with. Even now, he was still haunted by nightmares. he would never escape the shadow that the Cult Master of Flame had left behind. The sound of someone on the stairs snapped Cheongang out of his thoughts. He had been so deep in worry, he hadn’t even noticed someone approaching. “You’re working hard.” He looked worn and weary from spending the entire day rushing between the underground and surface areas during the Ice Palace crisis. This was the first time he had come up to the tower. “What brings you here?” “There’s something I need to discuss.” I know Hwangbo Yeon is the one leading your group, but... she seems emotionally shaken at the moment. Did something happen that I don’t know about?” Yeon had yet to recover from the shock of Myoeun’s memories. Given how fiercely she despised injustice, it was only natural. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. So, what is it you wanted to say...?” Concerned for Yeon, Cheongang wanted to get straight to the point. Soon it would be time to switch shifts—Gongye would be arriving any moment. He intended to finish the conversation quickly and descend once relieved. For some reason, Karaot kept staring intently at Cheongang. Irkin had mentioned earlier that a request would be made— but whatever it was, Karaot’s behavior was making it impossible to guess. Cheongang was just about to press him when Karaot finally spoke. “Irkin wants to perform a ritual to stabilize the Ice Crystal.” It sounded would take a while. Cheongang glanced back at the lodging quarters. Gongye didn’t seem to be coming out yet—the door remained closed. “If it succeeds, the Ice Crystal should return to stability. But the biggest problem is... during the ritual, the ice wall will be weakened.” Cheongang immediately understood the implication. “Then we’ll need to defend the Ice Palace while the ritual is underway.” “You’re just as sharp as Lady Hwangbo. Maybe it’s a Zhongyuan thing... It’s hard to keep up, having lived only among Ice Palace people.” Karaot offered a bitter smile— yet despite making the request, he seemed hesitant. It was almost as if he was hoping Cheongang would refuse. “Is there... something else you’re worried about?” The truth is, the ritual itself has a high chance of success. Irkin has prepared for this for a long time. But once it’s done, he’ll be severely weakened. Even now, he’s not in good shape. Just channeling the Ice Crystal’s power takes a toll.” Cheongang hadn’t known Irkin was in such a fragile state— but it didn’t come as a huge surprise. Wielding such power without consequence would’ve been stranger. It no longer seemed like the conversation would end quickly. Abandoning the thought of watching the lodging any further, Cheongang decided to ask what he’d been wondering. “Actually, I’ve been curious. What exactly is a warrior who protects the Ice Crystal?”