Chapter 427: The Smell of Blood and Liquor Is Ours Alone
Two energies clashed in a fierce standoff.
Had someone been standing between them, no matter how skilled, it wouldn’t have been easy to withstand. Not merely because the aura they each exuded was overwhelming.
It was due to the nature of these two auras. Just being in their presence caused dizziness, nausea, and a hazy mind. On top of that, there was the unbearable stench of blood and liquor.
"This is too much. I’m out."
The Drunken Demon was the first to withdraw his Liquor Qi. He had already expended a fair amount of internal energy while facing the subordinates of the Northern Blood Gate earlier, and though not deep, he had sustained injuries from the Self-Destruction Art. All in all, the situation was unfavorable for him.
He decided there was no point in wasting internal energy by continuing the aura clash any further.
With the look of someone who had accepted defeat in the aura contest, the Drunken Demon took a swig of his defeat drink.
“Ugh, bitter. Damn bitter.”
In contrast, the Blood King did not retract his Blood Energy. The space around them remained thick with bloodlust.
The Blood Energy was so suffocatingly dense that it felt like one might choke on the metallic scent of blood, but the Drunken Demon inhaled deeply, savoring the smell.
“Does your blood taste like this too?”
The Blood King glared at him, questioning what he meant.
“My blood would probably taste like liquor. But yours—does it taste this vile?”
Perhaps because it was a question related to blood, the Blood King responded.
“No one will ever know the taste of my blood. No one.”
Then, the Drunken Demon taunted him.
He closed and opened his fist in front of his chest, mimicking the explosion of the Self-Destruction Art with a soft pop. It was a challenge—he meant to taste the Blood King's blood at that moment. Not just any provocation, but a bold and calculated one.
That taunt made the Blood King feel a cold chill run through his veins.
Mocking him with the Self-Destruction Art? The rage that surged was accompanied by an unfamiliar sensation. No one had ever dared show such impudence toward him.
He knew it was a taunt, yet couldn’t help but take the bait.
Who was it that forced him to abandon his grand technique and show up here?
But the Drunken Demon didn’t stop there. He pulled open his robe. On the high-grade Heavenly Silkworm Cloth wrapped around his chest, there was a smear of blood.
“Your blood will probably stain here too, right? I’ll wash it clean and return it to him.”
The Blood King recognized the cloth draped around the Drunken Demon as something given by the Young Cult Leader.
“So, you received that little trinket and became the Young Cult Leader’s dog?”
A counter to the earlier provocation.
But at least when it came to Geom Mugeuk, that jab didn’t land.
“The dog is the Young Cult Leader.”
To the Blood King's bewildered gaze, the Drunken Demon continued with words that still made no sense.
“You won’t believe it, but the Young Cult Leader will become a dog for us.”
Everyone in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult knew about the time Geum Mugeuk barked alongside the Poison King in the training grounds.
The Drunken Demon didn’t bother to elaborate. He wasn’t confident he could explain it in a way the Blood King would understand in such a short time. No—he wouldn’t believe it even if he explained it all day. Without experiencing it firsthand, no one could ever truly understand the person named Geom Mugeuk.
“But are you sure you should be so relaxed? Are you banking on your subordinates arriving first?”
Far in the distance, red smoke still billowed up from various places.
“If you're not careful, our Young Cult Leader will be here too.”
“Worried? That your Young Cult Leader might die here?”
“He won’t die. The Young Cult Leader.”
The Drunken Demon spoke with certainty. Still, there was a reason he hoped he wouldn’t come.
“I just don’t want him fighting people like us.”
“People like us?”
“Yeah. People like us.”
Without explaining what that meant, the Drunken Demon took another drink. Around his body, his Liquor Qi flared like fire.
“So let’s make sure this stench of blood and liquor is ours alone.”
Sssssss.
A dense fog rose around the two of them, and the Drunken Demon vanished into the swirling Liquor Qi.
The Blood King raised his hand and touched the haze obscuring his vision. At first glance, it was just mist, but the Liquor Qi was so strong he could already feel intoxicated just standing there.
While the martial artists of the Northern Blood Gate fought, the Blood King had been pondering a single question.
How would he fight in this Liquor Qi? How would he overcome it?
Eventually, he came up with one answer.
The Blood King tensed every nerve in preparation for the Drunken Demon’s ambush and extended one hand forward.
From his fingertips, a wave of heat began to rise.
This was his solution—
To burn all the Liquor Qi away with Heat Yang Energy.
Liquor Qi, by its nature, was highly flammable, and the Drunken Demon’s current Qi was so thick and toxic it should ignite easily.
Flames erupted from the Blood King's Heat Yang Energy.
Fwoooosh.
As the Liquor Qi ignited from his fingertips, a flicker of satisfaction crossed the Blood King’s eyes.
But only for a moment. The flames quickly fizzled out.
He had expected the fire to spread outward, but it only burned where the Heat Yang Energy had touched before dying down.
He summoned even more Heat Yang Energy this time.
Fwooooshhh.
But it only burned a bit more than before, and again the flames went out quickly. The Liquor Qi gathered back to its original place.
Then, from within the mist, came the Drunken Demon’s drunken voice.
“Play with fire, and you’ll wet the bed.”
The Blood King ignored the taunt and reached out again, grasping at the Liquor Qi surrounding him. It felt like it should all burn away—but why wasn’t it burning?
"It won't burn no matter how long you try. My Liquor Qi takes after its master—it’s not passionate enough to go up in flames."
Swaaaasshh!
The Blood King, irritated, threw a palm strike toward the direction the voice had come from.
Boom!
A crashing sound echoed from a distant wall breaking apart, but there was no scream from the Drunken Demon.
Swaaaaasshhhh!
As the Blood King turned, something came flying from behind—he caught it with his hand. It was a stone, flying at a terrifying speed.
Crckk...
The stone crumbled into powder in the Blood King’s hand. The power behind the throw and the force blocking it were both so immense that the object couldn’t withstand the impact.
“You think a measly stone could kill me?”
“That’s why I brought something bigger.”
Whoooosh!
What flew at him next was a large stone lantern that had been standing in the courtyard.
Crash!
Just as the lantern shattered against the Blood King’s palm strike—
The Drunken Demon emerged from behind, thrusting a dagger.
Shwik!
So it wasn’t just the lantern that had come flying.
As the dagger aimed at his heart, the Blood King dodged and swung a palm strike in return.
Kwahng!
Palm force clashed with palm force, and the Drunken Demon was pushed back into the mist again.
The Blood King's expression was stiff. The Drunken Demon’s ambush had been fierce. Had he entertained the arrogant thought of “Did he really think a stone lantern could kill me?”, he would’ve been stabbed by that dagger for sure.
What began like a casual stroll had now escalated into a fierce and violent fight.
This time, it was the Blood King who detected the Drunken Demon first. He burst forth with Blood Energy and charged.
Boom!
Fists collided.
Slide... Both men were forced backward, their steps evenly matched. They were equals in power.
Now their palms clashed—Palm Techniques pitted against one another.
Again, they were pushed back an identical number of steps.
At that moment, the Blood King was the first to unleash his signature martial technique.
As he slid backward, on the other palm, small orbs of blood began to rise. In the brief moment of the clash and retreat, he had executed Blood Rain of Flying Daggers, one of the Ten Thousand Evils Blood Arts.
In an instant, the blood orbs transformed into small dagger-like projectiles.
Shwik shwik shwik shwik shwik shwik shwik shwik shwik!
They swept through the spot where the Drunken Demon had just been.
It was incomparably more powerful than the Blood Rain of Flying Daggers that his disciple Ha Gyeol had used.
Papapapapapapapapak!
Dozens of holes pierced the wall behind. They were packed tightly together—anyone within that zone wouldn’t have been able to dodge.
Yet, there wasn’t a single drop of the Drunken Demon’s blood on the wall.
Whooooosh...
As the Liquor Qi cleared momentarily, the Drunken Demon revealed himself again.
“Hold on! Just let me catch my breath.”
With the look of someone who’d just barely avoided death, the Drunken Demon took a drink.
“Go easy, will you? I thought I’d never get to drink this lovely stuff again.”
The Blood King also paused for a moment to catch his breath. There was no time to sit and regulate his breathing to recover internal energy—neither of them could afford to take their eyes off the other even for a second.
“Feels rude drinking alone.”
The Drunken Demon held out his bottle toward the Blood King.
“Just one drink.”
The moment he said that—
Kwa-jijijijik!
A flash of lightning-like energy struck down on the Blood King’s crown.
He twisted his body in an instant and narrowly avoided it, his face contorting with irritation.
The ground where he had just been standing now bore a deep crater, smoke curling up from it. If he’d been even slightly slower, his skull would’ve been pierced clean through.
The Drunken Demon’s ambush wasn’t some simple attack.
It was his signature technique—Wine God Arts.
The second drink: Wine God's Lone Drink.
A name given for the way a single streak of qi fell from above, like a man drinking alone under the heavens.
“Is it really that hard to take a drink from me?”
With a sly grin, the Drunken Demon vanished once again into the rising Liquor Qi.
The Blood King’s Blood Energy surged even thicker from his body, and now a crimson light began streaming from his eyes. The fury was rising—he had just barely avoided death.
Whether the Drunken Demon was aware or not, he launched another ambush from behind.
Shwik! Shwik!
His daggers sliced through the air. The Blood King spun around swiftly and unleashed a palm strike.
“It’ll hurt, drunkard.”
The Drunken Demon glanced at his trembling arm. Crimson energy coiled around it. He summoned internal energy and shook it off. That’s how heavy the Blood King’s blow had been.
“Wipe your blood before you talk.”
The Blood King also glanced down at his arm. Blood was trickling from a cut.
He brought the wound to his lips. The moment he sucked on the blood like drinking from a straw, the veins in his face bulged, and his eyes elongated like a specter’s. Blood Energy burst outward from him.
The Blood King now radiated such a terrifying presence and appearance that just facing him would make others shrink away.
Of course, it didn’t work on the Drunken Demon. If anything, it only provoked him further.
“Why are you so obsessed with the Extreme Cold Constitution?”
The corners of the Blood King's eyes twitched violently. His opponent knew exactly which nerve to strike and never missed.
“What are you going to do once you extract it? Planning to become resistant to the cold and settle down in the Northern Sea?”
That drunken tone made the Blood King even angrier. The Extreme Cold Constitution wasn’t something to be casually joked about while drunk.
“As you know, I’m the one who took the Extreme Cold Constitution. Should I buy you a padded winter coat as an apology?”
The Drunken Demon seemed to be speaking carelessly, but every line was deliberate.
“So you should’ve come to us from the start. Oh—wait. Maybe you were the weakest of your group? Is that why you got pushed all the way out to the Northern Sea?”
In the end, curses burst from the Blood King's mouth.
“Shut up, you drunken bastard!”
He could tolerate many things, but not the claim that he was lesser within the organization. He took pride in being the most dignified among them. That pride was what had allowed him to disobey the order to return.
His agitation was amplified by the Liquor Qi. Fighting within the Drunken Demon’s aura, the Blood King had unknowingly become intoxicated himself.
Puk!
The Drunken Demon didn’t miss that moment of agitation. From within the mist, he launched a surprise attack—his dagger pierced into the Blood King's side.
Thwack!
As he tried to vanish again, the Blood King's retaliatory strike slammed into the Drunken Demon’s shoulder. In that moment, the Drunken Demon saw it—how cold the Blood King's eyes had become.
The Blood King who shouted insults had burned with rage, but the one who struck back was cold. The contrast made the Drunken Demon wonder—had the Blood King been half-pretending to be enraged from the start?
Daggers flew, fists pounded, Blood Energy clashed with Liquor Qi.
They struck, slammed, and rolled. The two of them were locked in a battle of equals, a tiger versus dragon.
Every move was filled with emotion. It was a fight as if between sworn mortal enemies.
For both, this was the first time they’d fought a life-or-death battle against such a perfect rival.
After another fierce scuffle, the Drunken Demon retreated once again into the mist.
He had expected difficulty—but not this much. The Blood King was far tougher than anticipated.
As the Drunken Demon moved through the Liquor Qi, drinking while on the move, he suddenly stopped.
A crimson line had been drawn before him.
He glanced to the side—another line. All around, red lines began to form, one after another.
The lines used the Liquor Qi like paper, drawing across it as if painting.
The Drunken Demon picked up a pebble and threw it at one of the lines.
Shhk.
The pebble was sliced clean in two, as if cut by a treasured blade.
The number of blood lines increased, surrounding him like a spiderweb. It was the Fragmented Blood Net, unleashed by the Blood King.
The Drunken Demon withdrew his Liquor Qi. As the mist-like aura faded, the dozens of blood threads were revealed clearly.
There were already too many to move through. The only way out was to charge through with Protective Energy, but doing so would require bracing for serious injury.
Beyond the red threads, he could see the Blood King.
Casting the Fragmented Blood Net had severely drained his internal energy—but he was smiling.
He was confident this would finish the Drunken Demon.
‘I’ve trapped him completely.’
There was no opening to escape.
As if alive, the blood threads began tightening around the Drunken Demon.
He drew the unique weapon hanging from his waist—Blood Calabash—and spoke.
“You don’t know about this, do you?”
When he infused his unique internal energy into the Blood Calabash, it vibrated and emitted a brilliant white light.
It was the final technique of his signature martial art, the Wine God Arts.
The final drink: Wine God's Drunken Frenzy.
The Drunken Demon popped open the stopper and chugged the liquor inside.
At once, the purple Liquor Qi that had been rippling around his body turned black, and a pure white madness-laced intoxication poured from his eyes.
That madness turned into action—the Drunken Demon grabbed the blood threads with his bare hands.
“When we’re drunk, we can’t see a damn thing.”