Chapter 402 : Who The Hell is Drinking In Broad Daylight

Translator: FenrirTL

Editor/Quality Checker/Notes : Saphartlantis

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Chapter 402: Who The Hell is Drinking In Broad Daylight

"I just wanted to say……."

Not only Han Seol, but even Geom Mugeuk was curious about what Lee Ahn’s answer would be. It was because her stepping forward had not been planned in advance.

Lee Ahn calmly conveyed her sincerity.

"Please trust our Young Cult Leader just once."

A flicker of surprise crossed Han Seol’s usually expressionless face. She truly had not expected a subordinate of the Young Cult Leader to say such a thing.

"I know it’s a situation where it’s hard to trust each other."

"Then why did you say that?"

At Han Seol’s cold question, Lee Ahn replied softly.

"Because in this world, there are things that transcend all of that."

It was an answer that defied Han Seol’s expectations from beginning to end.

Han Seol’s gaze turned toward Geom Mugeuk.

"Are you saying that transcendent being is the Young Cult Leader?"[a]

"Yes. To you, Young Palace Master, it might sound like the words of a crazy woman, though."

Han Seol, who had been looking at Lee Ahn, turned to Geom Mugeuk. Her eyes seemed to say, "Go ahead and explain what’s wrong with this crazy woman”.

Of course, Geom Mugeuk was not someone who would obediently comply with that intention.

"I’m receiving such respect from my subordinates."

Han Seol glared at Geom Mugeuk as if trying to pierce through him.

She had already been skeptical about the legends surrounding Geom Mugeuk. But after hearing Lee Ahn’s words, her doubt turned into certainty.

'Maybe it really was fabricated.'

Otherwise, no subordinate would say that their leader was a "transcendent being" and ask others to trust them. Either they were brainwashed, commanded, or simply a real crazy person. Whatever it was, it didn’t suit a great hero who was reshaping the power dynamics of the martial world.[b]

"Starting is the hardest part, but once you get used to it, any task becomes easy, right? So, Young Palace Master, you should just boldly plunge ahead!"

Geom Mugeuk’s gaze turned to Lee Ahn.

"Just like that kid over there."

Lee Ahn deeply bowed her head. Because there was someone who would say such things no matter what trouble she caused, she could probably get into this kind of trouble, too.

Lee Ahn mustered her courage and spoke once more.

"Please believe in the Young Cult Leader. You will never regret it."

Han Seol snorted coldly, said goodbye to Geom Mugeuk, and turned away.

"I’ll contact you again."

After she left, Lee Ahn let out a sigh.

"I messed everything up, didn’t I?"

"You went a bit overboard with the ‘transcendent’ part."

"It slipped out without me realizing it. I don’t even know why I wanted to help that chilly woman."

Weren’t you the one who came all the way here just for a glass of water?

Geom Mugeuk already knew the answer.

Lee Ahn found the answer while looking at the surrounding scenery.

While dealing with the Northern Blood Gate matter, she hadn't noticed anything around her, but after meeting Geom Mugeuk, she started seeing the landscape again.

"Maybe it’s because the snowy scenery I hadn’t seen in a long time was so beautiful."

*         *         *

"The Young Cult Leader has made a new proposal."

Han Seol behaved differently from how she had acted toward Geom Mugeuk.

"He requested that, in exchange for handing over the child of the Northern Blood Gate, he be allowed to stay at the main palace for a while. And I accepted that proposal."

Although she had told Geom Mugeuk that she would discuss it with the Ice Palace Master, she spoke to her mother as if merely notifying her that she had already accepted.[c]

It was not because of Lee Ahn’s plea to trust Geom Mugeuk.

She was curious about her mother’s reaction. What would she do when Han Seol made a decision independently?

She had expected her mother to get angry or react coldly, but unexpectedly, the Ice Palace Master remained calm.

To the questioning gaze asking for her reason, Han Seol answered.

"Because saving the scion of the Northern Blood Gate is the priority."

"No. Tell me the real reason you accepted. That cannot be your first reason, can it?"

She was right. It had been her mother who had made the secret pact with the Northern Blood Gate Master. There was a more pressing reason than the lives of those who were captured.

"I wanted to confirm something."

"Confirm what?"

How would you react to my independent decision?

But she gave another reason.

"The Young Cult Leader I saw was different from the rumors. So I wanted to observe closely to see if he was truly such an extraordinary person. And……."

Besides the reason of "rumors don’t work on me," there was another.

"If it’s really true, as they suspect, that the Master Brewer was murdered—aren’t you curious? About who killed her?"

The Ice Palace Master silently looked at her daughter. She could have said something about this change in attitude, but instead—

"This matter, you handle it yourself."

"Thank you, Palace Master."

Han Seol bowed politely and left the Palace Master’s Hall.

The Ice Palace Master walked to the window and looked outside.

The snowy scenery of the Ice Palace was the same as yesterday, yet today she was viewing it with different feelings.

*         *         *

Yang Il, who had been pressing his ear against the iron door, let out a sigh.

Since the person in the front room had been taken away, they had not returned.

Even the man from the Lim family, who had been taken away several days ago, had not come back.

Moreover, it didn’t seem likely they were resting somewhere clean and comfortable. If that were the case, they wouldn’t have been imprisoned in such a damp and gloomy dungeon to begin with.

"Hyun-ah, Min-ah."

Tears welled up in Yang Il’s eyes. He had never shed so many tears in his life.

He missed his children terribly.

He hadn’t realized it while they were together, but now, thinking that he might never see them again, only their faces kept coming to mind.

His wife, who already worried too much, must be unable to sleep at night by now.

The ones who had taken them had smiled as they did so, but they didn’t even allow a single letter to be sent to reassure them that they had arrived safely.

The reason he had come here was because a famous doctor was said to be testing a newly developed medicine.

At the largest clinic in the village, they had gathered people and conducted various examinations.

Just undergoing the examination alone earned a few days’ wages, so many people had gathered.

In the end, only he and the man from the Lim family were found to have the constitution they wanted.

They said that if they participated in the experiment for just two or three months, they would be paid a large sum.

It was an amount he would have had to work several years to earn at his current job.

His wife had warned him it was dangerous.

There was a risk to his health, and the fact that they were offering so much money was clearly suspicious.

Moreover, they were outsiders.

But after much deliberation, Yang Il decided he would go.

There were even those who wanted to go but couldn’t because their constitution didn’t match.

Besides, the ones who conducted the examination were very polite and refined.

They had even honestly informed them that, depending on the circumstances, their health could be harmed.

That honesty made them seem more trustworthy.[d]

No matter how hard he and his wife worked, they could never save much money.

Every time they saved a little, something came up and they had to spend it.

Even when they saved desperately, another emergency would occur.

If he received a lump sum, he planned to open a small shop.

He himself had lived a life filled with all sorts of hard labor, but he didn’t want his children to live the same way.

Could the children even endure the hardships he endured?

His wife told him to believe in the children, but Yang Il couldn’t.

No, he simply didn’t want to make them go through such hardship.

Just one small shop where the four of them could live! Please!

But after leaving his hometown, he felt something was wrong.

It wasn’t the clinic staff who took them, but armed martial artists carrying swords who escorted them.

They didn’t go where they were supposed to; instead, they ended up in the Northern Sea, and were imprisoned in a secluded mountain lodge, not a medical facility.

They weren’t allowed outside, not even beyond the door.

And not long ago, they were moved again—this time to a place that was practically a dungeon.

'I should have listened to my wife.'

At that moment, a martial artist opened the iron door and entered.

"Let’s go."

Yang Il’s heart plummeted.

It was finally his turn.

His heart began pounding like crazy.

'Am I going to die now? I can’t die like this.'

Should he ambush the martial artist and run?

Maybe headbutt him?

But even against a regular person, that would be difficult, and the opponent was a martial artist.

No matter how much his body was toughened through construction work, he couldn’t hope to match a martial artist.

Yang Il was dragged out.

As he walked down the corridor, he couldn’t feel any other presence.

Originally, there had been people in the room ahead, the room next to it, and the room after that.

But those who had been taken away never returned.

'I’m the last one!'[e]

The place he was dragged into was filled with all sorts of objects whose nature he could not recognize.

A strange medicinal scent, one he had never smelled before in his life, permeated the air.

And in the middle of the room stood a bed made of jade.

The martial artist who had brought him spoke to Yang Il.

"Take off your clothes and lie on the bed. Strip completely, without leaving anything on."

When Yang Il hesitated, the martial artist glared at him coldly, as if to say he would not repeat himself.

Under the fierce, blade-like pressure, Yang Il undressed. Even now, his instincts screamed at him to rush the man and escape! But a body that had never once fought anyone in his life could not obey those instincts.

He had spent his whole life building houses, paving roads, and constructing embankments—engaging in rough, strenuous labor—but he had never struck another person even once.[f]

He was a man of gentle nature.

Yang Il lay down on the bed. The surface was far colder than he had anticipated.

The martial artist tied Yang Il’s arms and legs to the leather straps connected to the bed, restraining him completely.

Once he was secured, the door opened and four people entered.

A middle-aged man wearing a blue robe, accompanied by three martial artists who were guarding him.

One of the martial artists wore a mask, and his gaze was even sharper and fiercer than that of the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man approached and looked down at Yang Il.

His eyes were colder than the chill of the jade bed seeping into Yang Il’s back.

Yang Il prayed desperately.

He had no idea what kind of experiment they intended to perform, but he wished desperately to be someone who met their requirements.

'Please, just let me live!'

He no longer cared about the money.

If only he could survive and return, if only he could see his wife and children again.[g]

The middle-aged man began the examination in earnest.

When he operated something beneath the bed, the jade bed began to grow even colder.

"Uuuuuuugh!"

A moan escaped Yang Il’s lips from the unbearable cold.

It felt like he would freeze to death at this rate.

"Please save me!"

At Yang Il’s plea, the man replied coldly.

"If you truly possess the Extreme Cold Constitution, which is said to appear once among a thousand born with the Ice-Cold Constitution, then you will survive."[h]

Yang Il fell into despair.

In other words, if he wasn’t that one in a thousand, he would die.

Just then, the middle-aged man sniffed the air.

"But what is this smell?"

A scent was wafting in through the small hole pierced in the iron door.

"It’s the smell of alcohol."

The middle-aged man’s expression immediately hardened.

"Which bastard is drinking in broad daylight?"

One of the three martial artists standing by went outside.

"I’ll check it."

The martial artist opened the door and went out.

As he checked the corridor, he was startled.

The far end of the corridor looked as if it were shrouded in mist.

'What the hell?'

There was no reason for mist to form indoors, was there?[i]

Sensing an unknown danger, the martial artist drew his sword.

In an instant, the mist surged in.

The smell of alcohol was coming from within this mist.

'Alcohol scent in the mist? Then this must be—!'

It was liquor energy.

It was so strong that even someone with a high alcohol tolerance, let alone someone weak to alcohol, would find it difficult to keep their balance.

It was as if a dam full of liquor had collapsed, flooding up to one’s knees — that was how overpowering the liquor energy felt.

Before he could even sense anything approaching, a fist shot out from within the mist.

The punch lightly tapped the martial artist, but he flew backward, slammed into the wall, and lost consciousness.

The person who revealed himself from within the mist was none other than Song Sa-hyuk.

Liquor energy swirled around the Great Drunken Demon’s body like a Protective Energy field.

Though it now seemed like ordinary mist, in truth, Song Sa-hyuk’s liquor energy could transform into any form.[j]

He opened the door from which the martial artist had emerged and stepped inside.

Sssshhh.

Sensing that something had gone wrong outside, another martial artist hurled his sword without hesitation.

The Great Drunken Demon easily dodged the flying sword and lightly struck the martial artist’s neck with the edge of his hand.

With just a light tap, the martial artist collapsed and did not get up again.

Wheeeew.

The mist-like liquor energy that had filled the outer corridor all converged toward Song Sa-hyuk, surrounding his body and rippling like a heat haze.

The middle-aged man in the blue robe stared at the Great Drunken Demon with a shocked expression.

His two subordinates were not so weak that they could be defeated so easily.

This could only mean that the opponent’s martial arts skills were truly formidable.

But he did not despair yet.

Among the three martial artists, the real expert was the masked one.

Song Sa-hyuk glanced briefly at the two, then turned his gaze to Yang Il, who was lying on the jade bed.

Yang Il, frozen stiff, looked as if he might stop breathing at any moment.

It was a situation where the masked martial artist could have launched a surprise attack while the Great Drunken Demon was distracted.

Yet, Song Sa-hyuk paid it no mind at all.

Even though the Great Drunken Demon had turned his back while tending to Yang Il, the masked martial artist did not dare to move.

He felt as though the liquor energy swirling around the Demon Supreme was still watching him.

Song Sa-hyuk untied the leather straps binding Yang Il and grabbed his wrist.

As a warm energy flowed into him, Yang Il exhaled peacefully and regained consciousness.

Even after confirming the opponent’s strength, the middle-aged man calmly issued a warning.

"Do you know who we are? If you back off now, you might still keep your life."

In response, the Great Drunken Demon straightforwardly revealed his identity.

Since the Northern Sea Ice Palace would inevitably learn that the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was involved in this matter, there was no reason to hide it.

"I am the Great Drunken Demon."

"!"

The middle-aged man froze, his face turning ashen.

The masked man’s expression also hardened.

"Why would you…?"

If not for the skill Song Sa-hyuk had just demonstrated against his subordinate, if not for the flawless lack of openings even when he turned his back, it would have been impossible to believe.

But it was definitely the Great Drunken Demon.

This deep liquor energy and aroma subtly emanating from him were something that only the Great Drunken Demon could produce.

No, even putting all that aside, the man standing before them exuded a presence so overwhelming that no one could dare approach him.

Yang Il was just as shocked as they were.

This man was the famous Great Drunken Demon, one of the Eight Demon Supremes of the Demonic Cult?

Who in the world hadn’t heard of them?

There were even sayings like, "If you cry, the Demon Supreme will come and take you away".

"Is there a man named Yang Il among those captured?"

Startled that Song Sa-hyuk was looking for him, Yang Il hastily answered.

"I am Yang Il. That’s me."

He had never been personally entangled with even third-rate martial artists before, yet now a Demon Supreme was looking for him.

How could he possibly know his name?

"Good. It was you I came to rescue."

Yang Il couldn’t make any sense of the situation.

'The Demon Supreme came to rescue me?'

It felt like he was dreaming.

He glanced down at the bed he had been lying on.

'Ah, maybe I’m dreaming just before I die.'

Maybe, in truth, he was freezing to death on the jade bed, and in his final moments, he was hallucinating about being saved.

But it was all too vivid to be a dream or an illusion.

Even now, the bed he was sitting on was so cold it chilled him to the bone.

"You came to rescue me? But why would someone so exalted as you do that?"

Yang Il’s voice trembled violently.

He thought perhaps the Great Drunken Demon was here for another reason and had just happened to rescue him.

Then, an astonishing answer flowed from Song Sa-hyuk’s lips.

It was probably the most shocking thing Yang Il had ever heard in his life.

"Your wife asked me. She asked me to bring her husband back home."

"!"

Yang Il’s eyes widened in pure shock.

How could his wife possibly make such a request to a Demon Supreme?

"My wife? My wife has never even left the village since marrying me……."

Yang Il shook his head.

Something like this simply could not happen.

'Ah, I must really be dead. Thank you, my wife, for saving me even in a dream. Please raise the children well, and live happily. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you until the end.'

Even amid those thoughts, the dream-like reality continued.

"I get a little sensitive when I don't drink."

The Great Drunken Demon had placed the Ice Liquor that the Master Brewer had prepared into the Blood Calabash but had not drunk it yet.

He planned to drink it when he killed the one who murdered her, so that she could be with him in the moment of revenge.

"Would it be more dangerous if I drank, or if I didn’t?"

[a]Well the being more transcendent than him is Old Man Heavens, so yes ^^

[b]I disagree, such a transcendent being was necessary to convince these 3 stubborn leaders.

It would have been impossible for anyone else.

[c]Lol, that deliberate misdirecting XDXDXD

[d]But the cake was a lie.

[e]Seems we're too late for the others.

F to them *a prayer*

[f]Me too. I kinda hope I have the chance to throw a punch one day though. Just once, to know if I'm a fighter or a flighter in an emergency situation.

But since we live in a society than condemn random acts of violence, I hadn't had a chance to try.

Plus, I would feel guilty to approach someone on the street only to give him a straight punch.

Hence my hope that the zombie apocalypse arrive soon ^^ No more pesky taxes/job searching !!! XDXDXD

[g]Well if they succeed, they'll just sacrifice you, so instead of success, I would hope for a rescue, revenge, or failure to at least spite them.

[h]Also known as Extreme Yin in other cultivation medias.

[i]Depends.

If your interior is cold while you let a humid but hot atmosphere enter, it can produce fog, though rarely.

I'm sure there must be some Reddit posts about it somewhere.

[j]Depending on the attack/defensive power, a freely morphing armament is one of the best weapons possible.

Fluidity is one of the 3 essentials of fighting, along with adaptation and will.

Of course talent and training help, but for me, these 3 are absolutely necessary to survive. Fluidity prevent openings from stiff patterns, adapting to the enemy attacks allows one to anticipate them and correct his own mistakes, and without will, you can't endure and prevail against overwhelming odds.