Chapter 416: To a Drunkard, Anything Within Reach Is a Weapon
Chapter 416: To a Drunkard, Anything Within Reach Is a Weapon
Seo Nak reeled at the sudden appearance of the Ice Palace Master.
He was more shaken now than when he had first realized the Drunken Demon had come to take his life.
"Palace Master..."
At first, he instinctively tried to conjure an excuse. No matter how much he had revealed his true colors, they still shared years of history within the palace.
However, the glacial gaze the Ice Palace Master directed at him made it clear that any explanation would fall on deaf ears.
"Is this your doing, Palace Master?" he spat, his voice hardening.
"You still haven't answered my question," she replied coldly. "Was murdering the Institute Head also for the sake of the Ice Palace?"
Since the mask had already slipped, Seo Nak saw no point in hiding behind it any longer.
"It always is. Every choice I make is for the Ice Palace. Because I am the Ice Palace."
The Ice Palace Master’s eyes sank into a deep, frigid abyss. To claim he embodied the Ice Palace while standing before its rightful ruler was beyond mere insolence; it was a direct challenge to her authority.
The surrounding air grew heavy and frost-laden. Amidst the mounting tension, the Drunken Demon silently tilted his cup, seemingly indifferent to the drama.
Though Seo Nak had already overturned the table, the Ice Palace Master still treated him with a measure of decorum. After all, he had dedicated decades of service to the palace.
"Was joining hands with those who practice Blood Arts also for the sake of this palace?"
After a brief, heavy pause, Seo Nak spoke in a low, guttural voice. "So, you knew that much?"
She knew, yet she had pretended otherwise? Seo Nak’s expression twisted, radiating pure displeasure.
The Ice Palace Master found this version of him utterly unfamiliar. It was horrifying to realize he had lived so long while concealing such a blackened heart. The thought of Seo Nak forcing the frail, dying Institute Head to forge a will made her skin crawl with revulsion.
"I won't ask why you joined hands with them," she said, repeating the words the Drunken Demon had thrown at Seo Nak earlier. "Because I'm certain the reason is something trivial and selfish."
At that, Seo Nak roared in fury.
"Shut up! How dare you! Even if the rest of the world curses me, you have no right!"
He unleashed a torrent of raw anger and long-simmering resentment.
"Who do you think is responsible for you sitting in that seat?"
This was Seo Nak’s true grievance.
"If I had harbored ulterior motives when you ascended to the position of Palace Master...!"
The Ice Palace Master saw it clearly now. The root of this betrayal was an old, festering wound. He regretted his past restraint. He regretted not usurping the throne when he had the chance.
"And? Did they promise to guarantee you the position of Palace Master in exchange for your soul?"
Seo Nak didn't answer, but his silence was an affirmation. He would never have betrayed his kin without the promise of ultimate power.
When exactly had his heart rotted away?
Because she had known him for so long, she thought she would have a thousand questions, but facing the reality was different. In truth, she no longer had any desire to speak with him. It was clear they would only grate on each other's nerves with pathetic justifications. The bridge back had already been burned; there was no point in bickering about the ashes.
The Ice Palace Master turned to the Drunken Demon. As Geom Mu-geuk had requested, she had decided to leave Seo Nak's fate in his hands. She felt it was better that way—for her own sanity.
The Drunken Demon set down his cup and stood. "It won't take long."
"I'll wait outside," she replied, turning and disappearing back into the mist from which she had emerged.
"You selfish bitch! You don't know the first thing about sacrifice! You're nothing but a block of ice!" Seo Nak screamed after her.
The Drunken Demon let out a mocking laugh at the outburst.
"What are you laughing at?" Seo Nak snarled.
"Because you're pathetic. I finally see why they chose a fool like you."
Seo Nak’s cold laughter was laced with murderous intent. He still wasn't afraid. He seemed to believe he stood a genuine chance against a Demon Lord. Even with the Ice Palace Master waiting just outside, he remained defiant. What was he relying on?
With that question in mind, the Drunken Demon sealed the stopper of his gourd, the Blood Tear.
Seo Nak stared intently at the vessel. "Is that your unique weapon?"
In the next instant, the Drunken Demon flipped the table in front of him.
Boom!
The moment the table was smashed by Seo Nak’s palm strike—
Crack!
A chair flew through the air and slammed into Seo Nak’s shoulder. The Drunken Demon had struck him with the very chair he had been sitting on.
Seo Nak was flustered. It was a completely undignified, unexpected attack. A simple wooden chair couldn't possibly defeat a master of his caliber, and it shattered into splinters upon impact—but surely the Drunken Demon knew that?
The Drunken Demon’s next words provided the answer.
"What other weapon does a drunkard need? Anything within reach will do."
The Drunken Demon laughed like a common street thug, but Seo Nak didn't find it funny. What kind of thug could strike a master by swinging a chair with such precision? If anything, it demonstrated a level of martial insight far greater than if he had used a legendary sword.
If one were to name the most feared Demon Lords in the Murim, the Poison King, the Extreme Evil Smiling Demon, or the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord would be the usual suspects. No one ever picked the Drunken Demon first.
But if that question were asked of Seo Nak now? He was beginning to understand why the man held his title.
Whoosh!
Seo Nak launched a preemptive palm strike, unleashing a wave of frigid force. The Drunken Demon lightly twisted his body, dodging the blow with fluid grace.
Crash!
The wall of the main hall behind him shattered, and a display cabinet was reduced to toothpicks. Seo Nak’s gaze briefly flickered toward the expensive ornaments rolling across the floor. He forced himself to look away. He couldn't care about possessions anymore. This destruction was the herald of his new life.
Swoosh!
When the second palm strike flew, the Drunken Demon vanished into the mist. Since there was no cry of pain, he had clearly evaded it again.
Suddenly, Seo Nak realized his body felt... wrong.
‘This isn't ordinary mist; it's Liquor Qi.’
The vapor was saturated with the essence of alcohol. His limbs felt tipsy and lethargic; his alertness was beginning to fade. This wasn't a matter of willpower or internal power—his very biology was reacting to the intoxicating aura.
Seo Nak channeled his internal energy, and a bone-chilling frost rose from his palms.
‘Get a grip! If you get drunk now, you die!’
Seo Nak’s signature martial art was the Cold White Divine Palm. Even a glancing blow would send freezing energy into the opponent's internal organs, causing a lifetime of agony. A direct hit would flash-freeze the entire body, resulting in instant death.
"Listen here, Demon Lord! Don't hide like a coward in the mist! Come out and face me fairly—"
Whoosh!
Seo Nak twisted his body to dodge a projectile flying at his head.
Thud!
The object smashed into the back wall. It was a metal marble that had been rolling on the floor—a mere trinket from the broken cabinet.
Just as he had said, the Drunken Demon was fighting with whatever he could grab. Yet, the "trash" he picked up flew with more lethality than the forbidden hidden weapons of the Tang Clan.
"For a Great Demon Lord to be so cowardly..."
Whiz!
This time, the attack came from behind. It was too late to turn. Seo Nak channeled his Body Protection Qi and braced his back.
Thwack!
He felt the impact instantly. It wasn't a projectile; it was the Drunken Demon’s fist.
Seo Nak was sent sprawling forward before spinning around to face his foe. His spine throbbed as if it were about to snap, but the wound wasn't fatal.
The Drunken Demon stood several paces away, casually taking a drink. He watched Seo Nak with a gaze that sent a chilling wind through the traitor's chest. That lethargic, decadent look contained a brand of killing intent and madness Seo Nak had never encountered.
At that exact moment—
Vroooom!
Seo Nak’s preemptive palm strike tore through the mist. However, the Drunken Demon dodged with light, rhythmic steps and vanished back into the haze. This domain, overflowing with Liquor Qi, was the Drunken Demon’s world.
The higher one's level of mastery, the more they realized how terrifying this mist was. At their level, victory was decided by the smallest of margins, and the mist was stripping those margins away.
Suddenly, something gleaming whistled through the smoke.
Swish! Swish!
Stab! Stab!
The fast-moving objects pierced Seo Nak’s shoulder and arm. The Drunken Demon emerged from the mist, daggers in hand. He was so fast that Seo Nak couldn't react in time. Seo Nak swung a palm strike a beat too late; the Drunken Demon had already dissolved back into the fog.
‘He’s strong. Far stronger than I anticipated.’
Seo Nak tried to move quickly, attempting to use the mist to his own advantage. But the mist was not his ally. The vapor around him scattered whenever he moved, revealing his position like a beacon.
Whoosh!
Boom!
He blocked a palm strike, but because he was outmatched in raw internal power, his arms felt as though they were being torn from his sockets.
‘Even his palm techniques are superior!’
That wasn't all.
Rip!
The Drunken Demon’s fingers darted out of the mist, clawing across his chest. Skin was shredded, and blood splattered the floor.
‘A claw technique now?!’
Seo Nak finally understood. The Drunken Demon hadn't just mastered one style; he had mastered everything. Because that was the essence of a drunkard’s martial arts: unpredictable, chaotic, and all-encompassing.
Hitting, receiving, stabbing, rolling, and throwing. This was the Drunken Demon’s path. The haphazard fighting style of a drunkard possessed the refined skill to break bones and tear flesh with ease.
The Drunken Demon revealed himself again, drinking openly as if to taunt him. The more he drank, the more oppressive his aura became.
Seo Nak channeled every drop of his internal energy. The blue aura rising from his hands turned a blinding, pure white. He was about to unleash the White Annihilation Palm, the ultimate form of the Cold White Divine Palm.
‘He’s not dodging? He’s going to take the White Annihilation Palm head-on? This is it!’
At the very moment he felt a surge of hope—!
Seo Nak saw it.
The surrounding mist swirled violently toward the Drunken Demon, coalescing into a massive, ethereal shape. It was the back of the Wine God, standing tall and imposing. It was the Drunken Demon’s ultimate technique, the pinnacle of his Liquor Qi.
Vroooooom!
The White Annihilation Palm was unleashed. It overturned the floorboards and tore through the air, a massive wave of freezing Gang Qi.
Simultaneously, the Wine God phantom turned and lunged forward.
Wine God Art, Fourth Cup: Wine God's Violent Drink.
The Liquor Qi, shaped into the form of the deity, merged into a single, devastating beam of light.
KABOOM!
A massive explosion erupted as the two colossal forces collided. The impact completely leveled what remained of the main hall. As the dust settled, the two men were revealed.
The Drunken Demon stood exactly where he had been.
Seo Nak, however, had been blasted back over ten paces. The Wine God's Violent Drink had utterly overwhelmed the White Annihilation Palm, crushing it and its user.
Seo Nak’s body was in tatters.
"Gah... cough!" He vomited a spray of dark blood. It was a fatal wound.
The Drunken Demon had defeated him without even uncorking his unique weapon. Seo Nak was strong, but the Drunken Demon was a monster.
The Drunken Demon took another long drink. This last sip was a silent tribute to the murdered Institute Head.
Facing his end, Seo Nak wasn't just angry at his defeat; he was furious at those who had broken their word.
"They said... they would protect me..." blood trickled from his lips. He hadn't relied solely on his own strength.
Then, a new voice cut through the silence.
"They didn't break their promise."
Something heavy was tossed toward Seo Nak. Two corpses thudded onto the ground in front of him.
Geom Mu-geuk stepped into the clearing. "It seems you were indeed someone important to them."
Two martial artists had been lying in ambush in a secret crawlspace within Seo Nak’s residence. They were no ordinary experts; their stealth and lightness skills were top-tier, designed to extract Seo Nak at a moment's notice.
Geom Mu-geuk walked toward the Drunken Demon. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. You?"
Geom Mu-geuk nodded, then snapped his head toward the perimeter. "They're coming!"
Something was rushing toward them from beyond the thinning mist.
Zip!
The Drunken Demon instinctively jerked his head. Something grazed his cheek.
It was a drop of blood.
The projectile that had flown like a needle was a condensed droplet of Blood Qi. Soon after, the attacker revealed himself, pouncing like a rabid beast. His eyes, face, neck, and hands were a grotesque, pulsating red.
"Get back!" Geom Mu-geuk shouted.
The two of them dove in opposite directions.
BOOM!
The man exploded, splattering high-pressure blood in every direction. The flying gore pierced through the stone walls like ballista bolts. It was the Self-Destruction Art. The power of the Blood Qi released upon death was immense.
This was why Geom Mu-geuk loathed the Blood King. The man treated the lives of his subordinates as disposable ammunition. These weren't just random cultists; they were martial artists bred and trained for years specifically to end their lives in a single moment of annihilation.
"Are you okay?" the Drunken Demon asked.
As he prepared to answer, their gazes shifted again. More figures were rushing toward them. Not one or two, but a dozen.
"There are too many!"
The Drunken Demon swept his arm, clearing the mist to secure their vision. In that moment, they saw it. About a dozen suicide bombers leaped into the air simultaneously.
KABOOM!
They detonated in unison, unleashing a coordinated Self-Destruction Art. They didn't hesitate for a single second. It was a tactical strike designed to focus all the Blood Qi into a single, unavoidable frontal wave.
P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p!
Hundreds of streaks of lethal Blood Qi screamed toward them! The whistling sound was ear-splitting, and the density of the attack left no room for evasion.
The Drunken Demon stepped firmly in front of Geom Mu-geuk.
"Young Cult Leader! Behind me!"
He pushed his Body Protection Qi to its absolute limit, crossing his arms to shield his vitals. In this moment of crisis, he didn't address him as a brother, but as the Young Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—the one he was sworn to protect at all costs.
The Drunken Demon ignited his internal energy. Judging by the power of the single droplet from before, he knew he would be badly injured. But even if his flesh was flayed, he would not let a single drop of blood touch Geom Mu-geuk. This was the pride of a Demon Lord.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
The sound of the Blood Qi striking a solid surface echoed through the ruins.
Then, a sudden silence.
The Drunken Demon slowly lowered his arms. He looked up, his expression one of pure shock. The Blood Qi that should have shredded him had failed to reach him.
Something stood before him.
A wall of translucent, dark Gang Qi, reflecting the sunlight with a brilliant, obsidian sheen. The Blood Qi had poured down like a monsoon, yet not a single streak had managed to pierce this shimmering barrier.
It was a massive wall of energy—the ultimate defense for any demonic practitioner.
The Great Demonic Wall of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art had been erected.