Tread Lightly on Thawing Ice

Dust rose from the cliffside.

A man wearing a silver mask and Ye Kang-oh, the youngest disciple of Black Sky's master, were facing each other.

"You can't retreat any further."

A voice like the chill of frost escaped from Ye Kang-oh. It was an unusual thing. Ye Kang-oh was the subject of rumors about a man of virtue emerging from Black Sky. However, the aura emanating from him now was no less than that of his master, Ye Jin-rang, the Lord of Black Sky.

The masked man silently adjusted his stance. Ye Kang-oh was right. There was no place left to retreat.

It was Ye Kang-oh who first struck the ground.

From Ye Kang-oh's sword, a stream of black energy shot out. The masked man, holding only a seop-seon (a short staff), managed to block Ye Kang-oh's sword. It might have been dismissed as a coincidence once, but the masked man stood unfazed, facing his opponent without the slightest disruption.

Being repeatedly blocked in his attacks was a rare experience for Ye Kang-oh. Yet, he did not stop and continued pressing his offense.

The man in the mask was busily following Ye Kang-oh's sword strikes. The swordsmanship of Ye Kang-oh, the favored disciple of Black Sky, who ruled over half of the martial world, was filled with deadly and precise cuts. If anyone were watching, they would have screamed in horror, imagining the grim fate of the masked man as the white light of the sword poured down in endless waves.

This was not a duel. It was one-sided interrogation and silent defense.

Without a single counterattack, the masked man was continuously pushed backward. Soon, he was cornered at the edge of a cliff. Still, his white robe fluttered only slightly, and his breath remained even, in stark contrast to Ye Kang-oh's glaring eyes.

The sight of the masked man's unshaken stance, without even a flicker of speech, made Ye Kang-oh's chest burn with frustration. It felt as if a thousand years of drought had suddenly overwhelmed him.

After repeated clashes, the ground beneath their feet seemed on the verge of collapse. Yet neither Ye Kang-oh nor the man in the mask moved an inch from the precarious cliffside.

One step, just one step, and they would fall. Yet the man, holding only a spear to block Ye Kang-oh's sword, showed no fear at all.

Extremely bold, and even more so, incredibly strong.

There was an air of confidence that he would not die even if he fell here. Even more than that, there was a determination that he would not allow Ye Kang-oh, who had chosen to fight him, to die either.

Ye Kang-oh understood this. It was not about defeating his opponent but merely a confirmation to uncover the truth from him.

The eyes behind the mask calmly faced Ye Kang-oh. Those eyes—so familiar, and yet so longed for.

Ye Kang-oh gathered his internal energy.

*Zing-*

The sword in Kang-oh's hand, *Dansa* (断思), responded to the torrent of energy flowing from its master with a sound, as if answering the surge. Soon, the blade darkened, as if forged from iron.

For the first time, the masked man's eyebrows twitched in response to the overwhelming force that surpassed mere sword energy.

This was the final strike. But it was not aimed at taking the man's life. With the *Geumnasu* (금나수) technique, Kang-oh blocked the man's spear with one hand. His palm tore open, and blood began to flow.

While the masked man flinched in momentary hesitation, Ye Kang-oh's sword sliced through his mask.

*Clang-*

The mask split in half, revealing a face so extraordinary it seemed almost otherworldly. Skin as pale as if it would smudge with the slightest touch, a sharp and elegant nose, perfectly shaped lips. Every feature was as refined as if sculpted by a master artisan, untouched by the passage of time.

Once jet-black like the night, the hair had turned as white as the snow-capped mountains of the northern lands. It was still beautiful, but a fragile, ethereal quality had been added, as if the figure might scatter and dissolve into the air at any moment.

As the mask fell away, revealing eyes beneath fluttering, slow-blinking lashes, they shone like polished black onyx—noble and luminous. It was a visage so close to a work of art that it seemed a pity only Ye Kang-oh and the sun bore witness to it.

However, in the presence of this breathtakingly handsome man, Ye Kang-oh's expression began to crumble. There was no way he couldn't recognize that face. Not because it was a beauty that could rival even Song-ok or Ban-ak, but because it belonged to someone who had once been Kang-oh's protector.

"Is it you?"

Ye Kang-oh, the youngest disciple of the Black Sky Lord, stood before the man he had once revered and adored.

Dan Woo-hyo, the Lord of White Virtue Palace, whom the martial world believed to be missing, was there.

"Has it really been you all along?"

Despite the repeated questioning, Dan Woo-hyo did not answer.

Kang-oh felt as if he was going mad. A fire raged within him.

He thought it was strange. No, he only thought it was strange...

The appearance of the masked figure claiming to be the Lord of White Virtue Palace caused a stir throughout the martial world. At that moment, Ye Kang-oh alone saw in the figure the image of his former servant, Woo.

Afterward, Ye Kang-oh chased the masked man and gradually began to recover his lost memories.

Despite hoping it wasn't him, he inevitably led him to this cliff. And now everything was clear. The memories he had long forgotten, together with the lost emotions, poured over him in an instant.

Over Dan Woo-hyo's cracked mask, Ye Kang-oh threw his beloved sword. Despair washed over his lips.

"I thought it might be you, but still hoped it wasn't... How much I wished it wasn't."

Standing before Kang-oh, Dan Woo-hyo calmly gazed at his face. Even as he looked, he thought to himself how much he longed to see him. He had always thought that he would forever yearn for him. But Ye Kang-oh, lost in his endless pursuit, had finally found him.

The one-sided pursuit ended with Dan Woo-hyo's defeat.

For Ye Kang-oh, the day he stood at the edge of the cliff had always been hidden in the darkness. But now, it was as clear as yesterday. He had taken the place of Dan Woo-hyo, pierced by a dagger, and held him as he fell from the cliff below. Wishing for him, for Dan Woo-hyo, to remain eternally brilliant.

But reality moved in a different direction from what the boy had wanted. Pushed by the relentless flow of fate, Ye Kang-oh forgot Dan Woo-hyo, caused him pain, and ultimately lost him.

The past caught up with Kang-oh. Regret, which crushed his chest, and the pain it brought poured out from his lips.

"That lowly commoner...! I never once dreamed of a future with you! So why are you here? Why? Why...!"

At the agonizing scream, Woo-hyo, who had been silent all this time, bitterly smiled.

So that was why he could throw away his life so recklessly. He must not have seen it as a sacrifice.

"Is that why you did it?"

At Woo-hyo's cold question, Kang-oh gritted his teeth. It was an interrogation about what happened ten years ago, on that very day, in this place.

Kang-oh had no regrets about his choice back then.

He had hoped that if nothing else, he would remain in Woo-hyo's heart as a fleeting memory. Even if Woo-hyo held the hand of some other gentle lady and married her, he just wanted to be remembered as the lowly person who had once died for him.

It was the only thing he had wished for.

He didn't believe in love. He didn't expect a future for them. But why, then, was this person standing right in front of him?

Beyond memories stained with tears and blood, how had he come from the highest point to this lowest place?