The chocolates must’ve arrived ages ago, right?

Before leaving the Medical Pavilion, he’d gotten his hands on well-dried cacao beans from the Southern Barbarian Lands and made chocolate. It wasn’t work meant for human hands, not in this world, but time had still slipped away from him.

The finished batch wasn’t much.

He’d eaten one or two just to test it, and the taste was… nice. Too nice, in the way it yanked him back to Earth before he could brace for it. His master and Yoo Ho had enjoyed it, too, so he’d entrusted the rest to a courier service and sent it off to his younger siblings and close friends.

And, finally, to the person he owed the most.

Did it suit their taste?

If I’d known it would turn out like this, I would’ve brought enough for myself, too. In weather like this, chocolate is all I can think about.

It really was. Before he knew it, as they headed toward the northernmost end of the lake, high, massive mountains unfolded in the distance like a vast folding screen. Was it the heat from the volcanic zone? Trees and grass finally began to appear along the snow-sheathed slopes.

A colossal structure revealed itself halfway up the mountain.

“That’s the Northern Sea Ice Palace! True to its name, it looks like a huge royal palace.”

Gongsun Yeong couldn’t help adding, “If they settled on a volcanic zone, doesn’t that mean it’s less cold there?”

His Highness shook his head. “They rely on ondol there, too. The fact they even invited Putuo artisans all the way out there to install it tells you everything.”

Jin Cheon-hee nodded. “True. Still… there’s a difference between a place where you freeze to death at night and a place where you freeze to death even during the day.”

“Right,” Gongsun Yeong said, completely serious now. “So how big’s the difference?”

“Hm. You’ll know once you go in,” Han-bing said, and left it at that.

As the structure drew closer, it became obvious this wasn’t simply a castle.

First, the scale was beyond magnificent. The Northern Sea Ice Palace was practically a city unto itself.

And it wasn’t only its own people moving through the streets below. He spotted travelers who looked like they’d come from the Ayesha Kingdom, speaking the Ayesha tongue as naturally as breathing.

The Prince explained, “Strictly speaking, the Northern Sea Ice Palace is also within Ayesha territory. The Palace Lord has held the title of Duke for generations.”

“In the Hwa Empire,” Gongsun Yeong said, “this city is called Baekho City.”

Meaning the City of the White Lake. Naturally, the city had another name as well.

Severobaikalsk.

“They live well,” Gongsun Yeong muttered, staring. “So it’s not just a simple martial arts sect?”

His Highness nodded. “They’ve held their ground since before the kingdom itself. Calling it a small kingdom isn’t even an exaggeration. A title was inevitable for reasons like that.”

At this level, they’re basically warlords in the Hwa Empire. Out here, that’s a feudal lord, plain and simple. They’ve even been officially titled.

Maybe because it’s the Outer Realm, they’re treated like autonomous nobles in practice. Forget the Northern Sea Ice Palace martial artists for a second. Just mobilizing their private soldiers would be a serious problem.

Of course, if they marched those soldiers south, the Hwa Empire would respond with national war, so they can’t move in huge numbers without consequences. And sect fights aren’t the same thing as wars between nations.

When sects clash, wiping out an opposing sect doesn’t mean you get to rule the region. It’s simple. They don’t have taxation rights or administrative authority. They might seize business interests, profits, even land held by the sect, but in the Gangho, taxation and administration ultimately belong to the Emperor and are distributed to officials.

Sometimes, if someone earns overwhelming merit, they might be granted a position like Medicine Country’s Count. That’s it. In its own way, it’s a system designed to keep martial artists from turning into warlords.

Troublesome in more ways than one. Still, it’s fortunate we managed a treaty with the Ayesha Kingdom this time. For at least twenty years, the Ayesha Kingdom itself won’t take military action.

With that thought lodged in his chest, they entered Baekho City.

The city didn’t have fortress walls of its own. The Northern Sea Ice Palace sat halfway up the mountain, while the city spread below it like a blanket at the mountain’s feet.

“What do you think?” His Highness asked. “Should we enter the Northern Sea Ice Palace right away?”

Jin Cheon-hee shook his head. “Night’s creeping up on us. Let’s stay at an inn, then enter early in the morning.”

“Good,” Gongsun Yeong said. “First impressions matter.”

There was another reason.

I need to figure out how the Northern Sea Ice Palace actually operates.

In a region this extreme, it was hard to extract information through the Beggars’ Sect or the Hao Sect. Beggars froze to death in this neighborhood, for one thing, and Central Plains people stood out far too much in taverns for quiet digging. If anything, it was worse here.

It’s basically a blind entry, but walking into the palace without even a preliminary read on the local terrain is asking to get cut open and examined.

Before that, he needed to investigate how things worked here, at least enough to keep from stepping on a landmine with a smile.

He pulled the bear hat attached to his cloak lower over his brow and began listening to the voices around him with solemn, stern seriousness, as if he’d been born to brood.

As they wandered in search of lodging, His Highness spoke with bright excitement, like he was genuinely enjoying being outside.

“Baekho City is the center of trade,” he said. “Well, it became a ‘center’ mostly because there aren’t any cities besides this one.”

“There are people living even farther north than this?” Gongsun Yeong grumbled. “That’s insane.”

“Well, it’s a cold even Central Plains people can’t endure,” His Highness said lightly. “From here, if you launch a boat on the lake and head southwest, you’ll find cities that belong to no nation at all. We trade with them. But don’t imagine places like Hangzhou.”

“Because the population alone makes it a different world.”

“Right. Still, commerce is developed. A lot of boats anchor out on the lake, too. It’s a lake, but it functions like a port.”

“Fascinating,” Gongsun Yeong said, craning her neck. “If the lake’s this big, it makes sense.”

“It does.”

They kept moving, looking for a decent inn.

Then, at the end of an alley, a group of martial artists in Unorthodox Alliance attire came into view. Fur cloaks were wrapped over their uniforms, making them hard to recognize at first glance, but Jin Cheon-hee identified them by their scabbards.

A group of Central Plains people stood out too much in this neighborhood to miss.

Hmm. Did they come for the alliance? Preparations for the Great War are moving along suspiciously smoothly.

If the Northern Sea Ice Palace joins the Unorthodox Factions, it’ll hit the Martial Righteous Alliance like a hammer to the teeth. And in the first place, does it even make sense for a sect to hold land rights and taxation rights? Why is someone like that joining the Unorthodox Factions instead of declaring themselves a kingdom?

Our master became Medicine Country’s Count by earning overwhelming merit for the Empire, so he’s a special case.

But anyone with land rights and taxation rights should be classified as a warlord, not a sect, and they shouldn’t be folded into this Great War like it’s normal.

As he was quietly marinating in his own double standards, the Unorthodox Alliance group approached.

They recognized Jin Cheon-hee immediately.

“I didn’t expect to see One Light in a place this distant!”

That was the problem.

This man knew Jin Cheon-hee on sight, but Jin Cheon-hee had no clue who he was.

Still, Jin Cheon-hee hadn’t survived the Gangho by being honest at inconvenient times. He clasped his hands with well-practiced ease and smiled pleasantly.

“Wow. How are you?”

He didn’t say long time no see, because even if he ran the Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art a hundred times, he still didn’t know this bastard.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said. “This one is Cheol Mu-baek of the Iron Martial Sect.”

Iron Martial Sect?

He’d never heard of it. But if they could send people this far, the sect’s scale wasn’t small.

“The Unorthodox Alliance reformed internally this time,” Cheol Mu-baek continued, voice smooth. “It is now governed by the Twelve Unorthodox Gates, not the Eight. Our Iron Martial Sect has newly become an executive sect of the Alliance, so please take care of us in the future.”

Even if Jin Cheon-hee combed through every scrap of knowledge he had, there was nothing about an Iron Martial Sect.

Why appear now, of all times? It was hard to dismiss as a simple butterfly effect.

He mentally flipped through the Hao Sect’s Personage Dictionary, page by page, name by name. Sama Hyeon hadn’t included deep information, but he’d documented anyone with even a hint of scale. If a sect were executive level, it should’ve been there.

Yet it wasn’t.

Which meant it had either been truly insignificant and suddenly swelled, or it had stayed hidden on purpose until now.

Was that even possible?

And judging by the pressure Cheol Mu-baek radiated, he hadn’t won an executive seat by playing cards. At minimum, he was comparable to Gongsun Yeong with her Solar Physique. If he was hiding his cards, perhaps even higher.

If it were some mysterious sect that had sealed itself in the mountains and finally emerged, that was one thing.

But… Unorthodox?

If they had the temperament to cultivate loftily and quietly in the mountains, wouldn’t they be Orthodox? Why would they enter the Unorthodox Alliance?

Cheol Mu-baek spoke again, unhurried. “The Northern Sea Ice Palace has already decided to form an alliance with our Union, so you should return now.”

So they’d moved first.

Jin Cheon-hee didn’t let his smile slip.

“Hahaha. You’ve suffered a lot, coming this far through the cold.” He clasped his hands again, all warmth and manners. “But I’m carrying a gift my Master sent, and delivering it is a disciple’s duty. Still, thank you for worrying about me even though this is our first meeting, Great Hero Cheol Mu-baek. I’m sure your martial fame will spread far in the future.”

It was, in essence, a refined way of saying: Why would I trust the words of a group no one’s even heard of?

Cheol Mu-baek’s expression tightened, just slightly.

“Hmm. Arrogant as rumored. Fine. If that is so… then we will meet again next time.”

With that, he led his group away.

They were about twenty-eight in number. If others were waiting ahead, or joining later, there would be more.

“Strong?” His Highness asked quietly once they were out of earshot.

“Yes.” Jin Cheon-hee’s grin finally softened into something sharper. “Strong. And he doesn’t bite at provocations. I scratched him a little to see if anything would come loose.”

“…You really are something,” His Highness muttered.

“Why? I can’t needle a guy running around forming alliances to start a Great War?” Jin Cheon-hee said, making his tone light. “They’re moving in a swarm to wage war.”

“That is the Gangho and the blood wind,” His Highness began, then stopped. “No… never mind.”

Gongsun Yeong clicked her tongue. “You dirty-tempered physician bastard.”

Jin Cheon-hee laughed on purpose, bright and foolish. “Heh.”

“Anyway,” he said, sobering, “the fact he refused to respond tells me plenty.”

“Hm?” Gongsun Yeong tilted her head.

Prince Han-bing, who had been silently walking with his arms crossed, asked, “So how far did the sole disciple of the Zhuge family see?”

“Uh… you’re gilding my face a little too much.” Jin Cheon-hee waved it off, as if embarrassed. “It’s nothing special. A strong, completely unheard-of sect, and a taciturn envoy, drops into the scene from nowhere. That doesn’t feel like ‘from nowhere’ to me.”

“So?” Han-bing pressed.

“Rather than that,” Jin Cheon-hee said, choosing his words carefully, “it feels more realistic that some secretive, large-scale cult has started dispatching people.”

“A Demonic Cult?” Han-bing’s voice lowered. “The Blood Immortal Cult? Which do you suspect?”

Jin Cheon-hee didn’t answer.

Instead, he shifted the subject as neatly as a surgeon sliding a blade between ribs.

“Just thinking about it… it’s going to be troublesome.”

And with that, the party secured an inn.

They ordered food as soon as they sat.

One dish, made by boiling sheep’s milk, tasted strangely like a modern stew. Paired with lamb skewers grilled over firewood, it was almost luxurious. The meat had a gamey edge, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and somehow it wasn’t fishy at all, just savory.

He couldn’t help wondering what spices they used.

“Ah, these are perfect side dishes for alcohol,” Gongsun Yeong declared, delighted. She held a lamb skewer in one hand and a cup in the other, cheerfully trading drinks like she was hosting a festival. “The Northern Sea Ice Palace people know the way of alcohol. Truly!”

“Hey, Benefactor Kid,” she said, squinting at him. “Relax your face a bit. You’ve been thinking so hard since earlier. About what?”

“Ah, Sister.”

“If you can solve it right away, go solve it. If you can’t, then enjoy yourself.” She jabbed the skewer in his direction. “Making a dying face in front of good food is rude.”

“That’s true.”

“In that case, alcohol!”

And with those dangerous words, she poured liquor into a water cup, glug, glug, glug.

“Sister!”

“It’s cold,” she said blandly. “Warm up. Otherwise, even things that should work won’t work.”

Jin Cheon-hee sighed, then finally swallowed what she’d poured.

Ah. It burned.

Traveling with Sister really does increase my alcohol intake, goodness. Is this why people say you become like the company you keep? Traveling with a heavy drinker, it feels like you don’t get a choice, you either drink or you get trampled.