It was all well and good that we started drinking, but it felt like there was an extra person at the table.

Not just the Four Villains and the Scholar.

It felt like Sister Jinhyang from the painting had joined our drinking party as well.

The liquor was strong.

Maybe that’s why, especially after getting beaten by Cheonak, the White-Robed Scholar couldn’t keep his wits about him. He kept glancing at Sister Jinhyang in the painting while drinking—and ended up being the first to collapse.

Not like the drink was drugged...

Still, the way he swallowed both liquor and memories... the White-Robed Scholar eventually got completely drunk. He stared at the painting a few more times, then left slumped over Habok’s back, out cold. Surprisingly, the next to rise was the Sword Demon. He quietly got up and stepped outside, saying he needed fresh air.

Cheonak drank in silence.

I hadn’t expected the atmosphere to turn out like this.

It felt like Cheonak was crushing us with his presence alone—just by drinking.

Ghost Demon, probably only here for the chicken to begin with, filled his belly and, after waving his hands a few times, wandered outside as well.

That left just the Lecher, Cheonak, and me at the table.

Even without a word from Cheonak, Habok came over each time the liquor ran out, lugging another huge jug and setting it beside the table.

The Lecher shook his head and asked Cheonak,

“Senior, what on earth is this liquor? I’ve never had anything this strong.”

Cheonak turned slightly and asked Habok, who was waiting nearby.

“Habok, what liquor is this?”

“It’s Gongbu Gaojiu*. I bought it from Qufu.”

“So he says. Still, you two can hold your drink.”

In truth, Cheonak could drink far better.

He probably had such deep internal energy that things like drunkenness barely affected him. His body could likely purify most toxins on its own.

We tore open the next jug of Gongbu Gaojiu and got through half of it when the Lecher, now clearly drunk, slid under the table and crawled off somewhere on all fours. He’d drunk too much—but Cheonak seemed to understand.

With just the two of us left, Cheonak asked,

“Master of the Hao Clan, why aren’t you drunk?”

I downed another shot of Gongbu Gaojiu, then absorbed the drunkenness into the Heavenly Pearl inside me. A little trick from the Heavenly Pearl Absorption Method. Though to be fair, I couldn’t neutralize it completely.

“Used a bit of a trick.”

Even with that, my belly was puffed out from all the liquor. Trying to sober up, I glanced once more at the painting of Sister Jinhyang.

Cheonak asked,

“Why do you keep staring at her?”

I turned to Cheonak.

“If I say... it’s because she’s beautiful, would that be a mistake?”

“It wouldn’t.”

“That’s a relief.”

I looked back at Sister Jinhyang in the painting and spoke.

“Both the Scholar and you said before that you were once slaves... and during that earlier conversation, I heard Unrivaled and his brothers killed your master, Heukseon.”

“He wouldn’t have brought that up on his own.”

“It just kind of came out.”

“So?”

“The Scholar probably assumed I wouldn’t remember, so he just let it slip, but I remembered that Sister Jinhyang was one of the disciples who struck down Heukseon. And seeing that painting—I'm pretty sure that’s her. Could be wrong. But with looks like that...”

“...”

“For those who were treated like slaves by Heukseon, just having someone like Sister Jinhyang around must have been a reason to keep going. A breath of air in suffocating ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) times. That’s how beautiful she is. That painting—was it really Sister Jinhyang?”

For a moment, I thought Cheonak was going to hit me. But after taking a couple deep breaths, he nodded.

“It is.”

“Did Unrivaled draw it?”

Cheonak nodded again.

“He never even said he would. Just showed up with it one day.”

Since I was drunk, I spoke without filtering myself.

“No wonder. It feels like it was drawn just before they struck down Heukseon. I doubt Unrivaled volunteered. She probably asked him to draw it.”

“That’s true too.”

I looked at Cheonak.

“Then she must’ve already accepted death before the fight.”

Cheonak said nothing and drank.

I drank another shot too, but the intoxication surged so hard it made my head spin. Cheonak asked me,

“Why do you think she accepted death even before the fight?”

I wanted to ask Sister Jinhyang that myself. I stared at the painting before answering.

“Forgive me if this sounds rude... but maybe she knew even Heukseon and the First Brother wouldn’t be able to kill her. I get the feeling she knew how much men admired her. And if she didn’t step forward, she probably foresaw all the brothers being killed. Maybe she was just naturally bold.”

Feeling the back of my head tingle, I looked at Cheonak.

“Senior.”

“Speak.”

“If Sister Jinhyang had the heart of Jing Ke, the assassin who tried to kill the Emperor of Qin... what do you think? That she was a true hero who chose to sacrifice herself to save her martial brothers—am I reaching too far? Am I forcing the interpretation? I’ve never met her.”

Cheonak looked at me.

“She sacrificed herself for us?”

I didn’t answer. Just looked at Sister Jinhyang with him. Naturally, the woman in the painting gave no reply.

“To those of us in Heukseon’s faction... he was no different from an emperor. In both martial prowess and authority...”

Suddenly, Cheonak smiled for the first time during our drinking.

“She would’ve done exactly that. You’re right.”

I poured a drink into Cheonak’s cup, then into my own. Lifting my glass, I looked at him.

“For the lady.”

“...”

“For the heroine who saved her foolish brothers.”

Cheonak silently downed the drink, then pulled an empty bowl in front of him. He rolled up his sleeves and raised his index and middle fingers. Taking a breath, he dripped the liquor down. It looked like he was absorbing the moisture and discarding only the alcohol. I had no idea why, after drinking so much, he’d do that now.

I grabbed an empty bowl too and tried gathering the intoxication in my body to my fingertips, then pointed toward the bowl.

Nothing happened.

A trick you can’t copy just by seeing.

Cheonak said,

“Let’s drink.”

“Why’d you pour out the liquor?”

“If I drink more, I might end up hitting you.”

“You’re welcome to. Let’s drink.”

We poured another round of Gongbu Gaojiu.

Cheonak wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said,

“I’ve been hearing about the world through that Baek bastard for so long, my perspective’s grown narrow. But I figured it was fine, as long as it wasn’t about the Three Calamities. Still, when we fought together with the Beggars’ Sect Leader last time... I felt disgusted.”

“Why?”

“Shin Gae is different from Heukseon. That’s why. After I returned, I did some thinking. From now on, I won’t participate in any more joint efforts.”

That might be good news for Shin Gae, but I felt there was more to the meaning and asked,

“You don’t mean...”

Cheonak nodded.

“Same goes for the Cult Leader. If he brings his forces to crush the Scholar, I’ll help. But if someday Baekya and the Scholar team up to fight the Cult Leader... I won’t be there. Once was enough. Twice was more than enough. I should’ve torn Heukseon apart myself, but I wasn’t strong enough. It’s a matter of respect—for worthy opponents.”

So Cheonak thought I’d come to ask for his help.

“Senior, I didn’t come here to ask you for help.”

“You didn’t?”

“You want to defeat the Cult Leader or Shin Gae one-on-one, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“I hope you do. But if the Cult Leader brings forces to trouble you first, feel free to call on me.”

Cheonak chuckled.

“You want me to ask you for help? Me?”

I laughed and answered,

“Why not? Let the small fry fight among themselves.”

Cheonak said,

“Someday, I’ll die fighting alone. That’s how my master died. It’s only right I die the same. My martial arts came from him—it’s the only fitting return. Whether the Cult Leader brings the entire cult, or Im Sobaek comes with the Martial Alliance, or Baekya betrays us and brings his disciples... I’ll die fighting them alone.”

A true neutral, left alone in the world.

He believed all sides—Cult, Martial Alliance, and Scholar—wanted him dead. He was a man living as an enemy of the world.

“Alliance Leader Im has no reason to kill you.”

“I top the Murim Watchlist. You sure about that?”

“You’re the one who said it—your view of the world’s gotten narrow because of Baekya. The one who understands Im Sobaek isn’t the White-Robed Scholar. It’s me.”

I thumped my chest with my hand and looked at Cheonak.

“Senior, me. Yi Zaha, Master of the Hao Clan, knows Im Sobaek better.”

“What’s in Im Sobaek’s heart, then?”

I looked Cheonak in the eye.

“He’s the kind of man who can’t sleep for days if even one of his subordinates dies during a mission. If he tried to kill you, it wouldn’t be strange for most of his swordsmen to die first. He doesn’t have the guts. Don’t overestimate him. When we were chasing mere bandits, he was at the very front. That’s not how an Alliance Leader should fight. When I struggled in Dongho, he sent an elite team ahead—but still came himself. He’s a scared man. Not like Heukseon.”

“That so.”

“How would the Scholar know that? And you don’t need to worry about Unrivaled’s betrayal.”

“Why not?”

I poured him another drink and replied.

“He’s too weak now. I already killed some of his disciples. The Blind Scholar tried to kill me with a group of followers, but failed. I caught Chu Myeong once, but Alliance Leader Im let him go. He has honor. It’s probably a time of restraint. Besides, I’ve built ties with the Muga and the Farmers. They’re not the type to get involved. The only ones who’d join in are slippery types like... the Yin-Yang Clan Master, maybe. But Unrivaled probably isn’t planning to kill you.”

Cheonak stared at me.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? You’re the only one he considers a friend. But the Cult Leader definitely has a reason to eliminate the Three Calamities. You’re obstacles. Senior, what kind of man is the Cult Leader?”

Cheonak tilted his head, lost in thought, then answered.

“Someone trying to become perfect. No matter the cost.”

“In martial arts?”

“Yes.”

“So he’s not perfect yet?”

“If he were, I’d already be dead. You too. And Im Sobaek.”

I raised my hand and visualized a level with my palm.

“This high... is that how close the Three Calamities are? Just one step from perfection?”

Cheonak chuckled.

“Master of the Hao Clan, there’s no such thing as perfection in martial arts. The three of us are all stronger than we were when we last fought. Let me put it this way: if I faced the old Cult Leader today, I could’ve torn him apart. But he’s probably grown too. Same with Shin Gae—he’s gotten stronger. The three of us have kept pushing forward, thinking of each other. ‘Perfection’ is nonsense.”

I nodded slowly. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Maybe that’s why the Cult Leader gave up on being human—to break through this wall.

“Since he walks the demonic path, there are no limits to how he seeks perfection.”

“That’s likely.”

“What’s with all the iron outside? I was surprised the moment I saw it.”

Cheonak took another drink, then stood up.

“I’ve had too much. Get up. I’ll show you.”

Right as I was about to lose my grip on reality, I put down my glass and stood. Outside, the eldest was sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed.

He might’ve been keeping watch on purpose.

Cheonak walked across the training grounds and stopped before the largest hunk of iron. It was a massive iron staff with heavy round weights attached to both ends.

“...What kind of weapon is this?”

Dragging a low bench over, Cheonak said,

“Lie down and lift it.”

“Lift what?”

“That chunk of iron.”

I glared at him for a moment. Was I about to be assassinated?

“Kinda scary.”

“Just do it. Before I smack you.”

Even sober, Cheonak was too much. Now drunk and glaring at me? No choice.

I lay on the bench.

Cheonak picked up the massive twin iron barbell and brought it over my chest.

“Grab it.”

I grabbed it, drunk and all. Holding something that heavy in this state—I thought I’d pass out. But passing out now meant dying. So I didn’t.

Cheonak let go, and the weight crushed down on my arms.

“Lower it to your chest. Then slowly lift it.”

What the hell am I doing after all that great liquor?

I lowered the bar to my chest, then lifted it. Cheonak grinned.

“Not bad. Again.”

After a few more reps, Cheonak asked,

“What position is that?”

“A double-staff stance.”

“If two experts with the same internal energy duel with double staffs, who gets blown away?”

“Obviously the one with weaker external technique.”

Cheonak nodded.

“Lift it. Good. Lower it. Again, slowly raise it. Lower, raise, lower...”

“Let’s stop...”

Sweat dripped down my body—reeking of alcohol. Cheonak, above me, smelled like booze too.

“...Wanna die?”

“Not really.”

“Lower. Now raise it slowly. When dueling with strength, if your external technique dominates, you stay in control—even when something unexpected happens. You get to decide when palms clash or separate. Why train external techniques? To master internal ones more freely. Raise it. Slowly. Lower.”

As I lifted and lowered the bar, I muttered an apology.

“Senior... sorry for what I said earlier.”

“Lower... raise. Lower... raise. Slower this time.”

“I said I’m sorry. You not hearing me?”

“Lower.”

“My arms are shaking.”

“That’s normal. Now lift. Slowly. Just once more and I’ll let you off.”

“...Alright.”

With trembling arms, I managed to lift the bar once more. Cheonak nodded.

“Seems you didn’t use internal energy. Fine. Just one more.”

“...!”

“Wanna die?”

I lowered the bar. Cheonak leaned in and whispered,

“Slowly lift it... before I crush your skull.”

A battle cry burst from me. I screamed and lifted. I’d sweated so much the alcohol felt like it was leaving my body.

Am I even alive?

Only then did Cheonak take the bar away.

Gasping, I looked around—only to meet the eldest’s gaze.

For the first time, the Sword Demon gave me a sympathetic look and said in his usual dry tone,

“...Rough day, huh.”

I couldn’t respond.

I just nodded.

TL Note: Gongbu Gaojiu — a potent Chinese sorghum liquor, originally from Qufu — known for its clarity and strength