Chapter 59
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Before the Liquor Cools
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Suburbs of the capital, an unnamed valley.
This untouched haven, where human feet had never trod, preserved ancient mysteries. Crystal-clear water bubbled like jade beads tumbling over one another, while ancient pines thrust from jagged rocks, painting a breathtaking landscape scroll.
To Cheonwi, escaping the Imperial Palace's unyielding stone floors and suffocating power struggles, this place was nothing short of paradise on earth.
Splash, splash, splash.
Cheonwi, who had been soaking his feet in the transparent valley stream, reclined obliquely on the mat and tilted his liquor cup.
"Ahh, nothing beats daytime drinks and natural scenery."
At his side sat the empire's two mightiest warriors.
Iron Blood wasn't in her usual armor but in comfortable training robes. Even so, they couldn't hide her chiseled muscles or intimidating aura. She fiddled awkwardly with the edge of the mat, her expression uneasy.
Tira, on the other hand, couldn't rein in her feral instincts. Sprawled by the water's edge, she swiped at eels with her bare hands, failing and grumbling in frustration.
Cheonwi chuckled and offered Iron Blood some snacks.
"General Iron Blood, why the long face? You look like a trainee dragged in by the instructor."
"W-well..."
Iron Blood flushed and cleared her throat.
"I'm just... not used to this kind of situation. Being alone with you—no, all three of us out here so defenseless—it's a first."
Her gaze lingered on the chest muscles peeking through his loosened robes before darting away. The woman who devoured ghosts on the battlefield turned into an innocent girl at the mere whiff of romance—that gap was one reason Cheonwi cherished her.
He grinned mischievously.
"The palace is stifling. You need to get out now and then, breathe some fresh air, soak up phytoncides—it's good for the skin. Look, your skin's glowing more than usual today, General."
"Phyton-what? Anyway, if you like it, it's not bad for me either."
Iron Blood shyly accepted the cup.
At that moment, a splash from the water's edge was followed by Tira's grumpy shout.
"Cheonwi! No meat? Eating nothing but grass and booze leaves me weak! I want to catch something alive!"
"We brought lunch. Have a sandwich over there."
"No chew to it! I miss that thrill when bone and flesh tear apart!"
Tira shook off her wet hands and stomped over, complaining.
Cheonwi shook his head. Wildlings gonna wild. A battle maniac who couldn't grasp the joy of a picnic's "leisure."
"Just hold on a bit. I'll bag you a wild boar for dinner later."
"Hmph, promise?"
As Tira plastered herself to Cheonwi's side and reached for his liquor—
Whoosh—
The forest air turned chilling. The wind through the leaves sharpened, and the chirping birds fell silent.
Killing intent.
Raw, sticky killing intent squeezed in from all directions.
Iron Blood's eyes iced over instantly. The shy girl vanished, replaced by the reaper of the battlefield. Tira flared her nostrils and perked her ears.
"I smell it. Something delicious."
Cheonwi, cup to his lips, rolled only his eyes toward the forest shadows.
"Sigh... Always some idiots crashing the vibe. No sense of timing—or just dying to die."
Rustle.
No sooner had his lament ended than black shadows leaped from the woods.
One, two, three... about thirty men.
All in black masks and clothes, but their movements were no amateurs. Silent footwork in lightness skills and precise formation spacing marked them as elite assassins.
No insignia to hint at their affiliation.
The leader at the front of the tightening encirclement glared fiercely and bellowed.
"Take Cheonwi's head!"
His voice thrummed with inner energy, rippling the stream. No ordinary thug.
But Cheonwi slowly set down his cup and sighed deeply.
"Ugh, really. Gonna give me indigestion mid-sandwich."
His nonchalance bordered on arrogance, making the assassins hesitate.
Then Iron Blood at his side drew her greatsword.
Shing—
The heavy metallic ring shattered the valley's silence. Crimson flames leaped in her eyes.
"You dare... interrupt my man's rest?"
Her killing intent dwarfed the combined malice of all thirty foes.
Tira uncoiled the spiked whip from her waist and lunged forward.
"Yay! Dessert delivered itself!"
A savage smile curled her lips, like a starving beast spotting prey.
Cheonwi flopped back on the mat and waved them off.
"Wrap it up quick. Liquor's getting cold."
"Don't worry. Back before it cools."
Iron Blood dropped a Guan Yu line and kicked off the ground.
Boom!
The rock beneath her foot shattered.
The clash was one-sided. No, less a battle than a slaughter—less a slaughter than mere toying.
The assassins walked right into the women's weapons.
"Argh!"
Each swing of Iron Blood's greatsword cleaved enemy blades like tofu, shredding the flesh behind like paper.
A heavy sword's charm lay in raw power, but hers danced feather-light. Red petals scattered everywhere.
"Outta my way, barbarian! I've got more over here!"
Iron Blood swept horizontally, bisecting three waists at once.
"In your dreams! I'm faster!"
Tira whipped back.
Her lash slithered like a living serpent—snatching blades, then yanking necks skyward in a blink.
Splat! Crunch!
The spikes at the whip's tip struck vital points dead-on. She darted on all fours like a beast, sowing chaos, ripping into any gap.
"Mine!"
"No, I called it first!"
The women burned not with bloodlust, but rivalry to outdo each other.
The leader gaped in horror.
Intel was wrong. He knew Cheonwi was strong, but not that his companions were monsters. The empire's top knight, Iron Blood, and the southern beast, Tira.
Together, it was a lion joining a tiger's den.
"Y-you monster bitches...!"
The leader backpedaled and hurled a dagger, but Tira snatched it midair with her teeth and spat it out.
"Ptoo! Tastes bad."
That was it.
Iron Blood's greatsword crashed down on his crown.
Thud!
Not even a death rattle.
The valley fell silent in an instant. Only the metallic tang of blood and the women's heaving, excited breaths remained.
"Hah... hah..."
Iron Blood shook blood from her blade and turned to Cheonwi. Sweat-matted hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, eyes still gleaming with the thrill of slaughter.
That look was lethally dangerous, yet bizarrely erotic.
Tira was the same. Smeared in enemy gore, she licked her lips, staring at Cheonwi.
"I win... I killed more."
"Nonsense. I took more heads."
They growled at each other, but their gazes fixed solely on Cheonwi. Battle-fueled adrenaline sought an outlet.
Cheonwi pinched his nose and stood.
"Nice work, but you reek. Not my scene here—the fishy stench is killer."
He grimaced at the corpse-strewn mat. Even a iron heart passed on pillow talk amid body piles.
"Let's move. Upstream's still clean."
He grabbed the women's wrists and pulled.
"No more pests or peepers... Ready for the real fun?"
Iron Blood and Tira's eyes quivered. Within burned not battlefield heat, but thick, viscous desire.
Upstream in the valley.
Untouched by blood's stench, soft grass carpeted the ground, warm sunlight filtering through leaves.
Cheonwi had barely sat when Tira stripped off her wet clothes like she'd been waiting.
"Winner gets a prize!"
Her bronze skin gleamed gold in the sun. Taut abs, lean thighs, feral curves laid bare.
Tira bent at the waist, offering her rear, fingers parting her secret folds.
"Hurry... It's already wet and itching."
Her fingers revealed crimson flesh and dripping nectar. No shame—she saw nature as one vast bedroom.
"B-barbaric! Have you no shame?!"
Iron Blood whipped her head away in shock, but her face burned crimson. Her eyes instinctively flicked to Cheonwi's crotch.
"What's the issue? You're hot too, right? Sweated buckets earlier. Strip."
Tira burrowed into Cheonwi's arms, taunting. He laughed, gripping her springy ass firmly.
"She's right. Who's watching out here? They're all dead anyway."
"S-still..."
Iron Blood glanced around. Wide-open wilds—sky for ceiling, grass for bed. Too radical for her etiquette-bound soul.
But seeing Cheonwi suckle Tira's nipple, tongue swirling, snapped her reason.
"Nngh... Yes, harder!"
Tira's moans echoed through the valley, buckling Iron Blood's knees.
"W-what if someone sees... Screw it!"
Iron Blood's trembling hands undid her robe's knot.
Swish.
Clothes pooled on the ground, baring pale flesh. If Tira was a wild mare, Iron Blood was a pedigreed steed—noble, sculpted by endless training.
Cheonwi freed his fully engorged manhood. Veins bulging on the massive weapon, it loomed imposing in the sunlight.
"Who wants first taste?"
"Me!"
Tira mounted without hesitation. Hands on his shoulders, she lifted her hips, aligning her slick entrance with the bulbous head.
"Nngh... So... big...!"