Chapter 426: Blood Is Thicker Than Liquor
A violet aura rippled around the body of the Drunken Demon.
He was truly drunk. This was the kind of scene where one should be thinking, ‘Now’s my chance!’—but no such thought came.
No one dared to charge at him as he staggered, his eyes half-unfocused.
Yes, it was because he was the Drunken Demon.
The Drunken Demon was now properly intoxicated, swaying in his steps. Who would even think of attacking him like that?
Moreover, the lazy gaze beneath his half-lowered eyelids felt even more terrifying than one brimming with murderous intent.
When the bottle in his hand emptied, the Drunken Demon picked up another one from the ground. He drank again. He drank to the point one would wonder, Is that even okay?
“Ah, I’m getting drunk.”
The Drunken Demon staggered forward, then looked toward the Northern Blood Gate Master and the Blood King.
“Why don’t you both come down now? It hurts my neck looking up.”
At that, the Blood King took a seat. As if he planned to enjoy the fight comfortably from there, he settled into an entirely relaxed posture.
This was pressure on the Northern Blood Gate Master. A silent message: I’ll be watching from here, so go on—go get yourself killed.
‘Damn it.’
The Northern Blood Gate Master couldn’t make sense of this Blood King at all. With Elder Seo of the Ice Palace now dead, he believed the Northern Blood Gate was essential to ruling the Northern Sea. Yet this man was treating him like a disposable pawn. He seemed emotional to the extreme, but hadn’t even blinked at the Drunken Demon’s earlier provocation.
The Northern Blood Gate Master turned his gaze to the distant smoke rising in the background.
‘He even called in his own subordinates.’
What exactly was he planning? If he escalated things this far, how did he expect to handle the consequences?
In any case, now was the time to fight. Provoking this unpredictable Blood King was more terrifying than facing the Drunken Demon.
And if he joined hands with the Blood King and won, he could finally realize his long-held dream of becoming the top power in the Northern Sea.
“Kill him!”
At the Northern Blood Gate Master’s command, seven martial artists leapt down the wall at once.
Their opponent was the Drunken Demon—how could they not be afraid? Still, they clung to hope in the fact that they were seven in number.
Sssssk.
In an instant, the rising Liquor Qi smothered that hope.
From within the mist, the Drunken Demon’s voice rang out.
“When the mist rises, run west. That way, you’ll live.”
But none of them fled through the escape route the Drunken Demon had opened.
They were not ordinary warriors of the Northern Blood Gate. They were the hands and feet of the Gate Master himself—men who had committed countless atrocities under his command their whole lives. Whether in life or death, they were one with him.
The Liquor Qi that rose this time was stronger in intoxication than the one before. Just brief exposure to the mist was enough to start making them drunk. But even trying to emit their own inner qi within the Liquor Qi proved utterly meaningless.
If it had been poison, they could’ve at least taken an antidote. But this wasn’t poison—that was what made it so terrifying. It couldn’t be blocked.
Fwoooong!
One martial artist waved his hand to scatter the Liquor Qi. The mist around his body briefly cleared, only to return again.
The moment the martial artist swept his hand once more—
The Drunken Demon was standing in the spot where the Liquor Qi had dispersed.
The startled martial artist hastily thrust his sword forward, but it was already too late.
The Drunken Demon’s palm lightly tapped the center of his forehead.
Thunk. With that sound, the martial artist collapsed.
By the time he hit the ground, the Drunken Demon had already vanished from the spot.
“I told you—if you want to live, run west!”
But instead of running, they hurled sword energy toward the direction where the voice had come from.
Shwik! Shwiik! Shwik!
Sword energy tore through the air, but no scream from the Drunken Demon followed.
“West is that way. Or… is it this way?”
The voice of the drunken Drunken Demon echoed once more. This time, one martial artist flung himself in the opposite direction of the voice and slashed with his sword.
‘He’s just trying to bait us!’
It was a calculated move on his part—but no calculation could keep up with a drunken mind.
His sword sliced through thin air, and just then, as if waiting, an arm looped around his neck from behind.
‘How did he know what I was going to do?’
Crack.
That was his final thought before his neck snapped, and he dropped to the ground.
“Ah, I’m getting drunk.”
Shwik! Shwik!
Blades came flying at him from two directions, but the Drunken Demon had already vanished. He was definitely drunk, but his movements were faster than anyone else’s. This was his world—a realm even the Blood King wouldn’t dare enter lightly.
“Your subordinates are all going to die. Still not coming out?”
The Drunken Demon’s voice echoed from within the mist.
But the Northern Blood Gate Master remained standing atop the wall without moving.
‘If I jump into that mist without a plan, I’ll die.’
Even from this distance, just catching a whiff of it was enough to get dizzy.
His subordinates inside the mist were surely drunk by now. Their bodies, their judgment—all of it would be dulled. And in this situation, they needed to be faster than ever.
Truly, if it weren’t for the Blood King, this was an opponent he should never have dared to fight.
He had to find a weakness—something, anything—before all his subordinates were killed.
A scream rang out from within the mist. Another scream from one of his men.
One martial artist, unable to bear the fear, launched himself upward through the mist. It was a desperate attempt to escape the Liquor Qi.
Swaaaash!
Something tore through the fog and smashed into his jaw like a projectile bolt.
The Subordinate Never Knew What Killed Him—But the Northern Blood Gate Master Saw It Clearly.
What struck and killed the fallen subordinate remained a mystery to him, but the Northern Blood Gate Master had seen it clearly. It had been a simple pebble from the ground. To the Drunken Demon, anything within reach became a weapon.
Once again, a violent impact rang out from within the mist.
Puhk!
A martial artist burst through the fog and slammed into the wall where the Blood King and the Northern Blood Gate Master stood. He had already died the moment a punch struck his abdomen.
Then, another martial artist broke through the western mist. He was actually trying to flee to the west.
Shwiieeek!
Puh-uuk!
A streak of energy tore through the air and obliterated him.
The one who launched the killing blow was the Northern Blood Gate Master. Because this fight could not be allowed to spread beyond these walls. Because he couldn’t tolerate someone disobeying his orders and running away.
The mist parted to the left and right—and from its center, the Drunken Demon appeared. Only the space around where he stood was cleared of fog.
With drunken eyes, the Drunken Demon looked at the Northern Blood Gate Master.
The emotion in that lazy gaze was contempt—and mockery. The Northern Blood Gate Master clenched his eyes and shouted.
“You’re the reason they’re dead!”
Just then, the seventh martial artist, seemingly resigned, lowered his head and began walking toward the Drunken Demon.
“West isn’t that way.”
At the very moment, the martial artist raised his head—
The Drunken Demon, sensing danger, hastily summoned his Protective Energy, crossing his arms to guard his face.
The martial artist had already activated Self-Destruction Art, causing his face and body to flush a furious red.
Kwaaaang!
A surge of Blood Energy erupted from his chest, engulfing the Drunken Demon. The shock blasted him backward.
The Drunken Demon tumbled across the ground and collapsed. And as he fell, the dense Liquor Qi around him dissipated.
“We’ve taken down the Drunken Demon!”
The Northern Blood Gate Master shouted with joy. So the Blood King hadn’t just pushed them into death blindly after all.
“This must have been what our lord had prepared in advance!”
Although it irked him that he hadn’t been told beforehand, it was more than worth it to avoid facing the Drunken Demon in battle.
“Let’s leave before the Young Cult Leader returns.”
But the Blood King remained seated, staring at the Drunken Demon lying on the ground.
Naturally, the Northern Blood Gate Master followed his gaze.
“Urgh… it hurts.”
Astonishingly, the Drunken Demon was slowly rising to his feet.
Rubbing his chest, the Drunken Demon drank more liquor first. The sudden, unexpected explosion would’ve normally left him gravely injured.
But the High-Grade Celestial Silkworm Robe he wore had blocked the Blood Energy from piercing through him, sparing him from major wounds.
‘Brother… I owe you my life.’
Geom Mugeuk had saved his life. He had been so insistent about making him wear that High-Grade Celestial Silkworm Robe.
A strange glint passed through the Blood King’s eyes as he watched the Drunken Demon.
To have taken that attack from close range and still be standing—it was hard to believe.
“He’s wearing Protective Robe Armor.”
The Blood King Spoke to the Northern Blood Gate Master with Conviction.
As the Blood King’s gaze, which had been fixed on the Drunken Demon, finally turned to him, the Northern Blood Gate Master understood immediately.
‘Are you telling me to go out and fight too?’
In the end, it meant you should go out and die as well.
The Blood King’s eyes spoke clearly:
‘Do you want to die here, or die fighting?’
There are moments in life when reality strikes like waking from a dream.
Huh? Was this what it was?
Huh? Was I really this kind of person?
Huh? You thought of me like that?
That chest-tightening, goosebump-raising moment—where your expression slips, your speech falters, and your face flushes with shame.
This was such a moment for the Northern Blood Gate Master. He had at least believed he wasn’t such a disposable figure to the Blood King.
But now he saw it—the Blood King regarded him no differently than the subordinates who had already died.
“Give me a drink too.”
The Northern Blood Gate Master leapt down. Because the Blood King scared him more than the Drunken Demon. Because no matter what, he couldn’t die up on that wall.
He began walking slowly toward the Drunken Demon. He planned to strike at the moment he received the drink.
‘There will only be one chance.’
Fighting within the Liquor Qi would mean certain defeat.
The Drunken Demon spread his arms wide in welcome.
“At last, I have a drinking companion. Is it truly so difficult to share a drink together?”
Step by step, the Northern Blood Gate Master approached, forcing himself to calm his pounding heart. He waited for that single opening.
The two were now close enough to touch with a hand extended.
“There’s no cup, so let’s just drink straight.”
As the Drunken Demon was about to hand over the whole bottle, he paused and suddenly asked:
“But tell me, Gate Master—are you truly that afraid of that man?”
It was an unexpected question.
“I respect my lord.”
“And what’s so respectable about someone who sends his subordinates to their deaths out of fear?”
The Northern Blood Gate Master felt bitter. He was the one who had been pushed to the frontlines. He hadn’t believed he was someone to be treated that way.
“Has he perhaps caught hold of a weakness of yours?”
The Northern Blood Gate Master gave no answer.
A weakness? He had two. The Blood Art that could burst his blood vessels at will, and his own ambition—to pull down the Northern Sea Ice Palace and stand in its place.
What weakness had brought him this far?
“How about joining hands with me and fighting that bastard? Then, even if we die, we’ll die without regrets.”
The moment he said that, a cold sneer curved across the Blood King’s lips as he sat atop the wall.
“Take a good look at how that man smiles.”
What kind of smile could it be?
Just as the Northern Blood Gate Master turned back without thinking—
Shwik! Puk!
The sound of flesh being torn rang out.
When the Northern Blood Gate Master Turned Back to Look at the Drunken Demon—
In that moment of shock, when the Northern Blood Gate Master turned back to face the Drunken Demon, he saw that the man held not just a liquor bottle, but a bloodstained dagger in his other hand.
‘What...?’
The very next moment—
Puaaaahk.
Blood gushed from the Northern Blood Gate Master’s throat. As he turned to glance at the Blood King, the Drunken Demon had struck like lightning, stabbing him in the neck.
The Northern Blood Gate Master had only ever considered ambushing him—never once did he imagine the Drunken Demon would ambush him instead. It was because the Drunken Demon had seemed too skilled, too relaxed in combat.
“Apologies. A drunkard’s fight is always dirty.”
He wanted to say something in response to the Drunken Demon’s words, but the wound in his throat didn’t let the words come out.
He clutched his neck, but the blood didn’t stop pouring out.
The Northern Blood Gate Master collapsed like a crumbling statue. He died with eyes wide open, as if unwilling to accept such a meaningless death.
The Drunken Demon crouched down and gently closed his eyes.
He was someone who had to be killed anyway. The Drunken Demon already knew the atrocities he committed while hunting for someone with the Extreme Cold Constitution in the Northern Blood Gate. It was only a matter of when.
He had judged that the Northern Blood Gate Master would never betray the Blood King in this battle. His earlier request for a drink had also been a ploy for a sneak attack.
“Standing next to someone like that… can’t end well.”
Using the heavy scent of blood wafting from the Northern Blood Gate Master as his side dish, the Drunken Demon took another swig. Even as he drank, he didn’t take his eyes off the Blood King for a single moment.
Cold and heat, heat and cold—intertwined and clashed in midair.
For the first time, the Blood King spoke to the Drunken Demon.
“And yet, at your side, there isn’t even anyone watching.”
His mockery aimed at Geom Mugeuk didn’t get through to the Drunken Demon.
“No one should come to a filthy and dangerous place like this.”
If anything, the Drunken Demon fired back even harder.
“For that, I’m truly grateful. That you didn’t let the Young Cult Leader come here. Someone like him doesn’t belong in a place reeking of alcohol and blood. Scum like you and me should be the ones grabbing each other by the collar and rolling in the dirt.”
The Blood King looked down at the Drunken Demon with a peculiar glint in his eyes.
“You’re a strange one.”
“I’m drunk. No, wait—it’s because you’re not drunk.”
Mumbling nonsense, the Drunken Demon took yet another swig. He drank to an excessive degree. But the Blood King noticed—though the Drunken Demon’s eyelids drooped further with each drink, his pupils only grew clearer, more focused.
The Drunken Demon gestured lightly for the Blood King to come down.
And finally, the Blood King stood up and leapt down without hesitation.
The Blood King had entered the fray at last. His Blood Energy began to fill the space that had once been thick with Liquor Qi.
“Blood is thicker than liquor.”
Blood Energy and Liquor Qi refused to yield even an inch.
“What lowly blood dares to compare itself to liquor?”
The smells of liquor and blood—primal, violent—merged and clashed as the two energies fiercely collided.