The appearance of the Palace Lord Binggung shocked Seonak.

It was even more surprising than when he sensed Chimma had come to kill him.

“Your Highness.”

At first, he tried to {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} make excuses for what he had just said. No matter how much his true nature was revealed, they had spent years together.

But from Binggung’s cold gaze fixed on him, he knew any excuse was already too late.

“Was this your doing, Your Highness?”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Was killing the Original Lord also for Binggung’s sake?”

Since things had come to this.

“As always. All my choices have been for Binggung. Because I am Binggung.”

Binggung’s eyes grew even colder. Saying “I am Binggung” before her was not just rude—it was a challenge.

Naturally, the surrounding atmosphere chilled. Amidst it all, Chimma silently sipped his drink.

Though Seonak had already overturned the drinking table, Binggung still treated him with courtesy. After all, they had a long history.

“Was allying with those who use blood techniques also for my sake?”

After a brief pause, Seonak spoke quietly.

“You knew all of that?”

Pretending not to know despite knowing? Seonak’s expression hardened, showing displeasure.

Binggung found his face unfamiliar. It was terrible to think he had hidden this true self for so long.

The image of Seonak forcing the frail Original Lord to write his will sent chills down her spine.

“I won’t ask why you allied with them.”

She repeated what Chimma had said earlier to Seonak.

“It must be for some petty and selfish reason.”

Seonak suddenly shouted.

“Shut up! How dare you! Even if everyone in the world curses me, you must not.”

He revealed raw anger and resentment.

“Who do you think put you in that position?”

This was the point Seonak ultimately wanted to make.

“If I had harbored any ill will when you became Palace Lord—”

Binggung understood. The root of this betrayal started here. He regretted not usurping the Palace Lord’s seat then.

“So? Did they promise you the Palace Lord’s position?”

Seonak gave no answer, but Binggung knew. His silence was an affirmative. If he hadn’t received such a promise, he would never have allied with them.

When had his heart changed?

Having observed him for a long time, many questions arose in her mind—but experiencing it firsthand was different.

Rather, she had no desire to talk. They would only scratch at each other’s wounds with petty words. The bridge had already been burned—what use was arguing about the other side?

Binggung looked at Chimma. She had decided to leave Seonak’s fate to Chimma as Geom Mugeuk had requested. She thought it was better for herself as well.

Chimma set down his cup and said,

“It won’t take long.”

“Wait outside.”

Binggung walked out into the mist she had come through.

“You selfish bitch who can’t care for others! Ice-cold bitch!”

Seonak’s curse made Chimma laugh mockingly.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s pathetic. Now I understand why they chose you.”

A deadly edge crept into Seonak’s cold laugh. Still, he was not afraid. He seemed to think he could handle a fight with Chimma.

Even so, Binggung was outside. What exactly was he relying on?

With that question in mind, Chimma closed the cap on his blood weapon.

Seonak looked intently at the blood weapon.

“Is that your poison-martial-weapon?”

The next moment, Chimma overturned the table in front of him.

Bang!

As Seonak’s strike smashed the table, suddenly—

Thud.

A chair flew and struck Seonak’s shoulder. Chimma had used the chair he was sitting on to hit him.

Seonak was startled. It was such an unexpected attack. No one would expect to be hit by a wooden chair—it just shattered and scattered—but Chimma surely knew that.

Chimma’s next words explained his curiosity.

“What weapon would a drunkard have? Everything at hand is a weapon.”

Chimma laughed like a rogue, but Seonak did not.

What kind of rogue could strike someone with a chair in hand? In fact, it showed more skill than stabbing with a sword.

If martial artists were asked to name the most feared demonic masters, the fierce competition would be among the Poison King, Extreme Evil Demon, and Soul Absorbing Demon. None would name Chimma first.

But if asked that now? It had become a matter to consider.

Screeeech!

Seonak suddenly struck with a long staff, unleashing his martial force.

Chimma lightly twisted his body to the side and dodged.

Crash!

The rear wall of the main hall broke, and the cabinet there shattered. Seonak’s gaze briefly fell on the scattered decorations on the floor.

He would no longer care.

It was a sign that a new life had begun.

Screeech!

When the second strike came, Chimma disappeared into the mist. No scream was heard, so he likely dodged again.

Suddenly, Seonak felt his body was different than usual.

‘This isn’t ordinary mist. It’s aura.’

Because of that, his body felt dizzy and languid. His vigilance naturally dropped. This was not a matter of spirit or internal power quantity. His body was simply responding to the intoxication.

As Seonak gathered his internal power, cold chill rose from both his hands.

“Get a grip! If you get drunk, you’ll die!”

Seonak’s poison-martial art was Hanbaek Sinjang (Cold White Divine Palm).

Even a light hit would chill his organs, causing lifelong suffering; a proper hit would freeze his entire body and kill instantly.

“Hey, demon. Don’t cowardly hide in the mist—come out and fight honorably…”

Screeeech!

Seonak twisted to dodge the incoming strike.

Bang!

The object flying into the rear wall was a metal ball. It had fallen from the broken decorations.

Chimma was fighting using every object he could grab as a weapon. The trash he picked up flew more terrifyingly than any golden iron secret weapon in martial arts.

“How cowardly of the great demon to do this…”

Screeeech!

An attack came from behind this time. It was too late to turn around. Seonak raised his protective internal energy to block it with his back.

Thud!

The moment it hit, he knew—it was Chimma’s fist.

Seonak was thrown forward, then quickly spun around. His back ached as if it would break, but it was bearable.

Chimma stood where he had been, drinking.

As he drank, he looked at Seonak, and at that moment, a chilling wind blew in Seonak’s chest. That languid yet decadent gaze held a kind of killing intent and madness Seonak had never seen before.

At that moment—

Hooooooosh!

Seonak’s surprise strike cut through the mist and flew forward.

But Chimma lightly stepped aside and disappeared into the mist. This place, filled with overflowing aura, was Chimma’s world.

The better the expert, the more terrifying this mist would feel. They were people whose victories hinged on the smallest differences.

Just then, something flashed as it cut through the smoke and flew in.

Shh! Shh!

Thud! Thud!

Swiftly flying, it stabbed Seonak’s shoulder and arm. Chimma, revealed from the mist, held throwing knives. They came too fast to dodge.

Seonak swung his staff a moment too late, but Chimma had already vanished back into the mist.

‘Strong. Stronger than I expected.’

Seonak quickly moved to hide in the mist, but the mist was not on his side. The mist around where he leapt scattered, revealing his form.

Screeeech!

Crash!

He blocked the incoming strike but was overwhelmed in force; his arm ached as if it would fall off.

‘Even his footwork!’

Not only that.

Screeeech!

Chimma’s finger from the mist slashed him. Skin tore, blood spattered.

‘This time, it’s claw technique!’

Now Seonak was certain: Chimma had mastered all kinds of martial arts.

This was how a drunkard’s martial art should be.

Striking, countering, stabbing, tumbling, throwing.

This was Chimma’s martial art.

A reckless drunkard’s fighting style that could break bones and tear flesh.

Chimma appeared again, drinking boldly ahead. The more he drank, the stronger he became.

Seonak raised all his internal power. The aura from his hands had been blue but now turned pure white.

He intended to unleash Baekmyeoljang (White Destruction Palm), the most powerful technique of Hanbaek Sinjang.

‘He won’t dodge? Take Baekmyeoljang right here? Fine!’

Just as he inwardly rejoiced—

Seonak saw the mist around rush toward Chimma, forming a shape.

It was the back figure of the God of Wine, turned away.

Among Chimma’s many mastered martial arts, this was his poison-martial art, Jushin Gong (Wine God Technique).

Screeeech!

Baekmyeoljang was released, overturning the floor and ripping the air—a massive force flew toward him.

At the same time, the God of Wine figure behind Chimma turned and lunged forward.

From Chimma’s poison-martial art Jushin Gong, the fourth cup: Jushin Boju (Wine God’s Rampage).

The aura flying as the God of Wine combined into a beam of light.

Kraaaang!

Two gigantic forces collided, creating a tremendous explosion.

The main hall was completely blown away by the impact.

As the dust settled, the two figures appeared.

Chimma stood in his original spot.

Seonak was pushed back more than ten steps.

Jushin Boju had overwhelmed Baekmyeoljang and completely driven him back.

Seonak’s entire body was battered and torn.

“Guhhh.”

He spat out a mouthful of blood—an irrecoverable wound.

Chimma had defeated him without using his poison-martial weapon, Hyeollu. Seonak was strong, but Chimma was stronger.

Chimma drank again. The last sip was for the Original Lord.

Facing imminent death, Seonak felt anger—not for losing, but for those who had broken their promise.

“You said you’d protect me…”

Blood flowed from Seonak’s mouth. What he believed in was not only his skill.

At that moment, a new voice came.

“They did not break their promise.”

Something flew before Seonak. Two corpses were thrown onto the floor before him.

The one who entered was none other than Geom Mugeuk.

“You must be important to them.”

Two martial artists had been lying in ambush at Seonak’s secret residence.

They were no ordinary fighters. Beyond martial skills, their stealth and agility were outstanding, ready to escape with Seonak if needed.

Geom Mugeuk approached Chimma and asked,

“You alright?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

Geom Mugeuk nodded, looking toward the opposite side.

“Here they come!”

Something was running through the mist toward them.

Piiing!

Chimma instinctively twisted his body. Something brushed his face.

It was a drop of blood.

Like demonic energy flying, but it was definitely a blood drop. Not an ordinary blood drop, but blood energy shaped like a droplet.

Soon, the one who threw the blood drop revealed himself, leaping like an attack.

His eyes, face, neck, and hands were grotesquely red.

“Get away!”

At Geom Mugeuk’s shout, the two dodged sideways.

Kraaaang!

The charging man exploded, scattering blood everywhere. The blood shattered the broken wall. It was a self-destruct technique. The power of the blood energy unleashed in death was tremendous.

This was why Geom Mugeuk was wary and hated the Blood King. He was someone who used the lives of his subordinates like this.

He was not merely someone who had learned self-destruct technique in a short time. He was a martial artist who had honed it through long training to use it effectively. The result was this moment of self-destruction.

That was why fighting the Blood King was a gruesome battle.

This time, they must fight seriously.

“You alright?”

When Geom Mugeuk asked, Chimma nodded and was about to reply.

Their eyes turned again to the same direction.

Another group was running toward them. Not just one or two.

“This time, there are many!”

Chimma swept the mist away before them to clear the view.

At that moment, they saw.

About a dozen running fighters suddenly leap.

Ka-bang!

They exploded simultaneously, unleashing self-destruct techniques. Perhaps they had been trained only for this moment—no hesitation.

The blood energy focused only forward in their self-destruction.

Piiiiiiiiiiiiing!

Hundreds of blood energies flew at them.

They came with ear-piercing piercing sounds and could not be avoided anywhere.

They came so widely that evasion was impossible.

Chimma blocked in front of Geom Mugeuk.

“Little Pill Master! Behind me!”

Chimma stood before Geom Mugeuk, pushing his protective energy to the extreme. At the same time, he crossed his arms to shield his face.

At this critical moment, Chimma called Geom Mugeuk “Little Pill Master.” At this moment, he was not a younger brother but the true Little Pill Master of the Demon Sect he must protect. He was the demon who guarded him.

Chimma pushed his internal power to the limit. Judging by the power of the incoming blood drops, injury was inevitable. Even if he was hurt, he would not let a single hair on Geom Mugeuk be harmed.

This was the pride of the demon who served the Little Pill Master.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!

Sounds of the flying blood energies hitting something were heard.

Then, a moment of silence.

Chimma slowly lowered his crossed arms.

He looked up ahead with a surprised face. The blood energies that had flown with fierce momentum hadn’t touched him.

Something stood before him.

A wall of martial energy shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

Blood energies came densely with no place to dodge, but not a single drop pierced the shining wall.

A gigantic wall of martial energy—the greatest wall for any demonic martial artist.

The Great Demon Wall of Nine Flames Martial Arts was erected.