Ian and Hanseol were at Binggung.

There was a special reason for the two of them to visit Binggung today.

"Sorry for the trouble."

The person Ian bowed to politely was Binggung.

"The Little Pill Master gave a strict order not to leave the Palace Lord’s Residence under any circumstances."

"The Little Pill Master has already been here."

Geom Mugeuk had already made the request before departing the palace. He had asked that the two be looked after while staying together for a while. If it were any other enemy, he would’ve had Ian go along to let her gain experience.

But not when it came to the Blood King. Even if Ian had fully mastered the Flying Heaven Sword Technique, she would have still been kept in the Palace Lord’s Residence.

Binggung did not consider it trouble at all. It was related to her daughter and the safety of Binggung, and it was a request made because he trusted her.

However, there had been a small argument before she accepted the request.

―Aren’t you underestimating Binggung too much?

It sounded as if he were telling even her to hide inside the Palace Lord’s Residence.

―If it were an ordinary enemy, I would’ve left it to you and already departed Bukhae. But these people are the kind who use self-destruction techniques without hesitation. It will come at great cost.

―Even so, since they’re targeting the palace, it’s our job to deal with them.

Of course, there were many martial experts in Binggung besides the Palace Lord. If they stepped up, it would be a great strength, but it would also mean enduring significant sacrifice.

―They’re not enemies. They’re monsters. And monsters are what we’re good at hunting.

The final persuasion Geom Mugeuk gave to the still-hesitant Binggung was this:

―Let monsters be handled by demons.

How could she refuse when he lowered himself to the point of calling himself a demon? She was grateful, though one thing still made her curious.

―Why are you helping us this much?

Because the enemy is a subordinate of Hwamu.

―Because I was served good liquor.

Following Geom Mugeuk’s request, Binggung cleared out all the martial artists around Chimma’s residence. Since the Blood King was moving personally, she saw any guards as unnecessary sacrifice.

As she recalled her conversation with Geom Mugeuk for a moment, Binggung looked at Ian. Ian was standing by the window, looking outside.

She had been strangely drawn to her from the first time she saw her.

"You said your name was Ian?"

Ian, who had been looking out the window, turned toward Binggung and answered politely.

"Yes, that’s right."

"The Little Pill Master seems to care for you quite a bit."

"He’s always been a warm-hearted person."

"A warm-hearted Little Pill Master of the Demon Sect."

"He’s witnessing the birth of a new Heavenly Demon Sect."

Ian said it like a joke, but Binggung took it seriously. He was the one who had restored her relationship with her daughter.

‘Years from now, I might think back to this day and say I saw the Heavenly Demon back when he was still the Little Pill Master.’

Hanseol asked Ian, "What was the Little Pill Master like when he was younger?"

Binggung looked at her daughter. It was the first time she saw her take interest in someone. She had never shown curiosity about others before. Thanks to Geom Mugeuk, she really was having all sorts of new experiences.

Ian hesitated a moment before answering Hanseol’s question.

He hadn’t always been that way. He was a good person, yes, but not this good.

Until that day, the day of the Divine Demon Contest, when Geom Mugeuk suddenly changed like someone hatching from an egg.

From the moment he returned from the duel, Geom Mugeuk had changed.

That day, Geom Mugeuk had said this:

―From today, I’ve decided to live a different life.

And he truly kept that promise. Geom Mugeuk changed, and that change affected everyone around him. Ian herself, the Demon Lords, even the Heavenly Demon.

She shared those words from that day with the two of them.

"The Little Pill Master once said this. That people don’t change little by little. When something triggers it, they change all at once."

That’s why she herself tried to change. She wanted to become the exception to the saying that people never change.

"He matured and changed a lot."

Just as she answered with a smile, something caught Ian’s eye.

Far off outside the window, red smoke was rising. It didn’t feel ordinary. It was definitely a signal meant to alert someone.

"Ah! Smoke is rising over there too."

As if in reply to that signal, another plume of smoke began rising far in the opposite direction.

***

"I’ll raise your monthly pay starting next month."

At the innkeeper’s words, the cook smiled quietly in the kitchen. The cook was a man who couldn’t speak.

But getting this cook had been the greatest stroke of luck in the innkeeper’s life. The food was good. He had no real complaints about his treatment. He never threatened to quit out of nowhere. He just cooked in the kitchen in silence.

That’s when a customer said,

"Looks like there’s a fire? Look at that smoke."

"Why’s the smoke that red? Shouldn’t smoke from a fire be black?"

As the customer and innkeeper were watching the distant rising smoke—

"Whoa, that startled me!"

The innkeeper turned to the side without thinking and was startled. At some point, the cook had come out and was also staring at the smoke. During business hours, he had never once come out of the kitchen.

"Looks like a fire started somewhere over there."

At the innkeeper’s words, the cook said,

"It’s not a fire."

Both the innkeeper and customer were startled by the cook’s words. It was surprising enough that he came out of the kitchen, but they had never heard him speak before.

"You could talk?"

The one who opened his mouth felt like a completely different person from usual.

"The master is summoning us."

"Me?"

The innkeeper blinked in confusion, wondering what he meant.

Puk!

The cook’s hand pierced through the innkeeper’s heart.

"You don’t need to raise my pay."

The customer screamed and ran. The cook waved his hand, and the fleeing customer’s body tore apart and collapsed, spewing blood.

Smiling, the cook looked down at the blood dripping from his hand and arm.

He inhaled deeply and smelled the blood, then stepped outside with hands still dripping.

As he chanted an incantation, red smoke began to rise from the blood that had dripped onto the ground.

It was smoke meant to awaken yet another one.

***

Chimma was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, drinking. Dozens of bottles were placed around him, and there was also a large wine jar. He was drinking with clear intent.

It wasn’t all the same alcohol. He was drinking every type of liquor available in Bukhae.

Chimma drank a glass of this, then a glass of that. Each time, he gave his judgment. This liquor is light, that’s what makes it good. This one is strong, that’s what makes it good. This one is sweet, that’s what makes it good. This one is bitter, that’s what makes it good.

He didn’t say this drink was bad because of something, but rather judged each one by what made it good.

Then he looked up toward the wall and asked, "Care to join me for a drink?"

At some point, a man had appeared atop the wall, staring this way.

The man was the Blood King. Previously naked, he was now wearing crimson martial robes. The thick stench of blood emanating from him revealed who he was.

He had reached this place from outside without encountering a single obstruction. There were no martial artists standing guard. It meant they had been expecting him.

Behind the Blood King, red smoke was rising from various spots in the distance. The red smoke exuded a sense of tension, like the eve of war.

Chimma took another drink. "Come down and have a glass."

The Blood King silently stared down at Chimma.

"If you don’t want to, suit yourself."

Chimma drank straight from the glass. Even while drinking, his gaze stayed fixed on the Blood King.

Hot and cold.
Cold and hot.

Both of them had eyes that contained both heat and chill.

The smell of alcohol and the smell of blood. These two primal, human-triggering scents mixed in the space where they faced each other.

Chimma acted as if completely relaxed, but his body was reacting differently. Instinctively, it tensed and prepared for an incoming attack.

'He came to kill me.'

Geom Mugeuk had been right. He had said the one behind it all would definitely target him—and now, they had come directly.

And today, the Blood King had not come alone.

A dozen martial artists climbed onto the wall where the Blood King stood. The man who stepped up right beside the Blood King was the Lord of Bukhyeolmun. The ones who came with him were the most trusted of his subordinates.

The Bukhyeolmun Lord asked Chimma, "Where did you hide the Extreme Cold Flesh?"

Instead of answering, Chimma rebuked him. "And what’s ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) a Lord of Bukhyeolmun doing, getting dragged around by this filthy smell of blood?"

It was a remark that struck his pride, but the Bukhyeolmun Lord ignored it and asked again, "I asked where the Extreme Cold Flesh is."

Then Chimma, sipping his drink, replied, "Why do you keep asking? Did I leave it with you?"

The Bukhyeolmun Lord looked at the Blood King. Then the Blood King spoke in a low, resonant voice. "He’s not someone who’ll talk easily. Kill him."

The Blood King had read Chimma well. He might look like he was just sitting there drinking and grinning, but that wine was just as potent as blood. He was not an easy man.

Chimma said to the Blood King, "There’s something I’m curious about. Can I ask?"

The Blood King silently looked at Chimma, as if to say, go ahead.

"That self-destruction technique you people use—when you blow up, does that red skull of yours go with it?"

It was a deliberate provocation. With the Bukhyeolmun Lord present, Chimma expected some reaction. But the Blood King didn’t change expression in the slightest.

'More composed than he looks.'

Chimma assessed the Blood King as well. This wasn’t some berserk killer running wild. When it needed to burn, it burned. When it needed to freeze, it froze. The most difficult kind of enemy to face.

Srrrk!

The one who drew a sword was the Bukhyeolmun Lord. Now that the Blood King had given the order, they had to step in. And with Chimma provoking the Blood King like that, if they just stood there, the Blood King might kill them instead.

As the Bukhyeolmun Lord drew his sword, the subordinates followed suit. Their killing intent was no joke.

Even though they radiated bloodlust, Chimma’s gaze remained fixed on the Blood King.

The fact that he sent these men first, knowing full well they’d be sacrificed—
'He wants to test my strength?'

Also, probably trying to make him waste his internal energy. The Blood King reeked of blood yet lacked even a drop of pity or compassion.

'And that smoke! It’s definitely a signal to summon someone.'

The Bukhyeolmun Lord was just as cold. He’d come along because of the Blood King, but he knew full well how dangerous his position was right now. He was being pushed to fight a Demon Lord.

'Even if all my men die, I must survive.'

The Bukhyeolmun Lord first ordered three of his subordinates to attack.

Three of them jumped down from the wall. After all, there was a limit to how many could attack together. Rotating formation to wear down the opponent’s strength was the best approach.

The three martial artists approached Chimma from three sides.

Chimma was still sitting, drinking.

Whooosh!

Suddenly, a wave of internal energy surged up around them, and in an instant, all three were swallowed in mist.

From within the mist came the sound of swords slashing through air. The sound of flesh and bone being severed. The sound of a neck breaking.

Sssssk.

When the mist cleared again, Chimma was still seated, drinking.

The three who had tried to kill him now lay dead around him. No one had seen how it happened, as it all took place within the mist.

"If you prefer the smell of blood to the smell of alcohol, I’ll let you breathe your fill."

The Bukhyeolmun Lord’s face stiffened. He had known they might fall, but not that they would fall so fast.

And fighting in a field covered in visibility-killing mist was completely disadvantageous.

"Unleash sword energy and blade force!"

At the Bukhyeolmun Lord’s command, the remaining subordinates all fired their sword energy at once. The mist once again clouded their vision.

Swish swish swish swish swish swish swish swish swish!

Only after an intense volley of attacks did the Bukhyeolmun Lord signal to stop.

As the mist lifted, the scene of destruction was revealed. The ground was overturned and shattered.

Chimma was sitting on the edge of the broken bench, drinking.

What was truly remarkable wasn’t just that Chimma was unscathed—none of the bottles around him had broken either.

In other words, Chimma had protected the liquor bottles amidst a barrage of sword energy.

'Is that even possible?'

Not only the Bukhyeolmun Lord but all the martial artists around were shaken.

Chimma looked up at the Bukhyeolmun Lord and said, "I told you to come down and drink with me."

When no one replied, Chimma lifted a bottle and drank straight from it.

Since the Blood King still hadn’t spoken a word, it was the Bukhyeolmun Lord who had to face Chimma.

"Looks like you’re trying to buy time, but don’t count on help from the Little Pill Master."

"You’re the ones stalling."

It was criticism—why weren’t the Blood King or the Bukhyeolmun Lord stepping in themselves, and instead sacrificing their subordinates?

"Are you worried? That the Little Pill Master might arrive before you kill me?"

Of course the Bukhyeolmun Lord was worried.

He could tell that the Blood King held the Little Pill Master’s martial arts in high regard. If they were confident they could eliminate both at once, they wouldn’t have tried to lure the Little Pill Master away via Yang Seok.

"The Little Pill Master won’t be coming. He’s already in our hands."

It was an attempt to shake Chimma’s composure, but it didn’t work.

"If that were true, you’d be asking to trade him for the Extreme Cold Flesh right here."

Chimma was sharper than anyone, and he had absolute faith in Geom Mugeuk.

Which is why he could even joke like this.

"Don’t worry. The Little Pill Master always shows up for me at the very end."

Chimma grabbed a bottle and slowly stood up.

All he did was rise from his seat, but his presence was enough to make everyone tense.

"The one you should be worried about isn’t the Little Pill Master—it’s me."

Even in this moment of taut tension, Chimma took long swigs straight from the bottle.

"Because thanks to you bastards waving swords instead of sharing a drink, I’ve been drinking alone this whole time."

The color of the internal energy swirling around Chimma began to change.

"I’m really drunk now."