Chapter 386: Let’s Have Some Real Fun (2)

Bo Yeol—Sa Sa himself—couldn’t make sense of any of it

Something was clearly off. Every martial artist he passed wore a grim expression and was meticulously tending to their weapons.

It was honestly a bizarre sight.

What the hell’s gotten into these bastards, acting all proper like real warriors?

To unorthodox fighters, weapons were usually nothing more than rusty lumps of metal—things they barely remembered to polish, let alone strap to their waists. That these men were all diligently maintaining their arms? Suspicious didn’t even begin to cover it.

Bo Yeol pointed out one of them at random.

“You there. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Preparing for war, sir.”

Bo Yeol blinked in disbelief.

“War? What war? You planning to invade the Rooster Forest Sword Sect? You trying to get yourselves killed with the Imperial Prince right there?”

“Not the Rooster Forest Sword Sect, sir. Heard it’s the Mount Long Martial Hall. Some minor orthodox sect.”

Bo Yeol’s expression twisted.

He was one of the top warriors in the Unorthodox Alliance—why the hell was he hearing about this from some low-ranking grunt?

With a stormy gait, Bo Yeol stomped his way to the highest guest hall in Flame Hall.

Thud! Slam!

The door nearly broke off its hinges as he threw it open, making damn sure everyone could feel his displeasure.

Call it petty if you want, but age tends to bring pettiness back around full circle.

“Ah, Elder Bo Yeol. You’ve arrived.”

Inside the tea room, the three unit commanders, their deputies, and squad leaders were already gathered.

Apparently, they’d been holding a strategy meeting—conveniently leaving Bo Yeol out.

“What’s going on here? You’re attacking Mount Long Martial Hall? And no one thought to inform me?”

Mun Jeongyeok responded smoothly.

“Well, didn’t you say you had personal matters to attend to, Elder? We didn’t want to interfere.”

“You call that a valid excuse? I’m the strongest asset in this damned detachment—what kind of war plan excludes me?!”

“Hm, now that you put it that way, that was shortsighted of me. My apologies.”

Mun Jeongyeok bowed his head.

“Hmph.”

Bo Yeol scoffed, but the anger visibly bled out of him.

“Well, let’s hear it then. I’m curious how you all planned to win without me.”

“Please, have a seat. Filthy Stratagem, what are you doing? Aren’t you going to give up your seat for the Elder?”

Jo Gwangang twisted his lips into something like a sour chew and turned his head in annoyance. The deputy next to him looked over, then the squad leader next to him, and so on down the line until finally the junior-most squad leader at the end of the row stood up and moved behind the others.

Then, one by one, they all scooted their asses sideways with the enthusiasm of a funeral procession—just barely clearing the main seat.

“Tch. Would it kill them to move their asses like they mean it?”

Bo Yeol clicked his tongue and took the empty seat with a thud.

Then came the teacups.

The Black Bear Battalion’s officers all casually slid their cups to the side, ignoring him completely.

Bo Yeol’s lips jutted out like a child’s.

“Oh, so only you lot get mouths now?”

“It’s not tea, sir. It’s chicken giblet liquor. Will that be alright?”

“Wait, chicken what now? What kind of barbarian filth are you drinking?”

Chicken giblet liquor was a specialty of Guangxi Province—a traditional barbarian liquor brewed by the Zhuang tribe. It involved boiling chicken livers, hearts, and intestines, mincing them, and serving them directly in the cup with the alcohol.

It was a drink where the appetizer came inside the booze.

“Honestly, sir, the base liquor’s garbage. This is the only way it’s drinkable. Or would you prefer raw liver liquor instead?”

That was another variant—same principle, but with boiled chicken guts swapped for raw pig liver.

“...No, the giblet one’s fine. Pour me a glass.”

“Do you know how to drink it properly, sir?”

“I’ve lived this long and you think I wouldn’t?”

Some people just can’t say yes without cursing first.

This Zhuang-style ‘integrated appetizer liquor’ was meant to be downed in one shot. You drank the liquor in a gulp, then slowly chewed the solid parts as your snack.

Mun Jeongyeok poured a glass already prepared with chicken innards and offered it up.

Bo Yeol accepted it, though the cloudy broth steeped with boiled organs looked... less than appetizing.

Surprisingly, it didn’t taste half-bad. The consensus among heavy drinkers was that the chewy giblets paired beautifully with the booze.

Bo Yeol knocked back the shot and chomped down on the innards with a loud crunch.

The liquor itself was terrible, but the intestines were savory and quite tasty.

Mun Jeongyeok, who’d been watching with faint amusement, casually remarked:

“Speaking of which, Elder... I heard something interesting. That you’ve been meeting with the Heavenly Flower Sword... in the middle of the night.”

“Kuhak!”

Bo Yeol gagged and sprayed chewed giblets everywhere.

“You know the laws of the unorthodox world, don’t you? Betrayal is never forgiven.”

At that, the officers of all three battalions shot to their feet and drew their weapons.

It was coordinated. Almost rehearsed.

“Hmph! What do you bastards think you know—”

Bo Yeol, fully confident in his innocence, tried to scoff. But then his face suddenly paled, and he roared:

“You poisoned the liquor!”

“A master of poisons being this careless—now that’s disappointing. You think we’d willingly drink barbarian swill like that?”

Bo Yeol’s face turned a deathly white.

He’d assumed the crap flavor came from the cheap liquor itself—but the real poison had steeped through the boiled giblets, dispersing straight into his lower dantian.

Scattered Qi Poison.

Whatever amount they’d used, it was potent. And he’d downed all of it in one gulp.

“Wait, hold on! This isn’t what you think! Betrayal?! What glory could some old man possibly gain from betraying you now? Huh? Don’t you agree?”

“Then how do you explain meeting with the Heavenly Flower Sword?”

“I told you! I was pursuing something interesting! That woman was the interesting thing! She’s the venomous snake I planted inside the Rooster Forest Sword Sect!”

Mun Jeongyeok let out a dry chuckle.

The room quickly filled with sneers and laughter, every face twisted in mocking amusement.

“And that’s your defense? What, is she your secret daughter now? Is that why she’s listening to an old demon like you?”

It was the kind of excuse not even a dog would believe.

Especially not when it was this clear he was cornered. Cornered men say anything.

And clearly, this one was no different.

“No! That bitch—she had dirt on the Heavenly Flower Sword! I thought she was using her—I didn’t know they were the same person!”

“Funny. I heard the atmosphere between you two was quite... friendly. These days do people usually reserve the highest rooms and serve expensive tea for blackmail targets?”

Bo Yeol felt a chill run down his spine.

They’d followed him.

Sure, anyone unaware of the context could’ve misread the situation. It had been a bit too cozy.

Still, Bo Yeol hadn’t been treated well for nothing. He’d at least had his reasons for not breaking the mood.

“Look, listen. It was more of a collaboration, okay? It wasn’t some one-sided coercion. We were working together, sort of. It wasn’t as hostile as you’re making it out to be.”

“Collaboration? That kind of thing usually requires mutual benefit, doesn’t it? What exactly would the Heavenly Flower Sword stand to gain by helping us drive out the orthodox sects from Rooster Forest?”

The poison was spreading.

Bo Yeol could feel his energy dispersing, his lower dantian going hollow.

How much had they dosed him with?

And why the hell hadn’t he realized it sooner?

“The Blood Cult!”

Two words—but the weight behind them was immense.

The entire tea room froze.

“...Excuse me?” Mun Jeongyeok’s mocking expression vanished. “What the hell are you talking about? What would those mad bastards have to do with this?”

Even among the unorthodox sects, the Blood Cult was considered degenerate filth.

They weren’t just about survival—they wanted the world to burn.

The unorthodox clans might oppose the orthodox, but even they didn’t want the world to fall apart.

“She’s one of them! The Heavenly Flower Sword is a witch from the Blood Cult! Of course she’d want the orthodox sects destroyed—it works in her favor!”

Shocking revelation!

The Heavenly Flower Sword is a Blood Cult witch!

For a moment, dead silence reigned.

Then—

“Pfft—”

Jo Gwangang couldn’t hold it in.

Soon the entire room erupted in laughter.

“Elder,” Mun Jeongyeok gasped between chuckles, “you’ve got to say something even vaguely believable.”

“I’M TELLING YOU THE TRUTH!”

Bo Yeol shouted in frustration.

Jo Gwangang sneered.

“Is senility hitting you that hard, old man? That’s quite the claim—an earth-shaking revelation, I must say. Truly enlightening.”

“She is! She’s the Lesser Void Witch!”

Mun Jeongyeok jeered.

“So the successor of the Tathāgata Divine Palm is now a Blood Cult witch? What would that make her, the Lesser Tathāgata? Quite the fusion, don’t you think?”

“I’M NOT LYING! DAMN IT, I’M TELLING YOU THE TRUTH!”

Bo Yeol beat his chest, bruising the sagging flesh.

“WHY WON’T YOU BELIEVE ME?! SHE REALLY IS THE LESSER VOID WITCH!”

“Why stop there? Why not say she’s mastered all Ten Forbidden Arts, her hands are black and white, and thunder crackles around her as her pupils rotate like Dharma wheels?”

If Qing were here, she’d probably suggest opening a fortune-telling stand with this kind of clairvoyance.

“I’M TELLING YOU, IT’S TRUE! The Black Killing Palm and Self-Spinning Demon Technique are Demonic Cult skills, not Blood Cult ones!”

“Maybe she’s a triple agent. An infiltrator from the Blood Cult hiding in the orthodox sects while secretly working for the Demonic Cult. Ever think of that?”

“DAMN IT, I HAVE PROOF!”

“Oh? Did she give you a written confession? You sweet old fool.”

“THE THIRD ONE! HE GOT SLAPPED BY HER VOID PALM! HIS CHEEK TURNED BLACK WITH LESSER VOID POISON! TAKE HIM TO ANY EXPERT, THEY’LL RECOGNIZE THAT WOUND INSTANTLY!”

“Wasn’t that guy healed ages ago? If it was real Void Poison, the flesh should’ve rotted clean off, don’t you think?”

Bo Yeol fell silent.

“...Wait. Why? Why did it heal?”

Because the Lesser Void Technique, powered by Daoist energy, wasn’t actually that malicious.

“Why are you asking me? Aren’t you supposed to be explaining yourself?”

Bo Yeol was drowning in regret.

He should’ve run the moment he sensed the poison.

Now, trapped and accused, even fleeing was no longer an option.

“The final judgment belongs to the Lord of the Alliance. Until then, you’ll be confined. And just so you know, we’ll be burning Scattered Qi Incense. Try anything foolish—”

“Why waste good incense? Can’t we just shatter his dantian? As long as he’s alive, that’s all that matters, right?”

Bo Yeol blanched.

But Mun Jeongyeok shook his head.

“Stop reading failure-strategy manuals and try learning some basic common sense. You break the dantian of an old poison master and expect him to survive? Really?”

He tapped his forehead with two fingers. Jo Gwangang flushed bright red.

Mun Jeongyeok turned back to the disgraced elder with a satisfied smirk.

“Whether or not you’re a traitor is up to the Lord of the Alliance to decide. But if you try to escape, don’t expect mercy.”

Bo Yeol collapsed to his knees.

“I swear, it’s true. Damn it all, why won’t anyone listen? This wouldn’t even be the first time the Blood Cult planted a mole in the orthodox sects—hell, even daughters of the noble clans have been turned before!”

“Then by all means, explain it to the Lord of the Alliance. She’ll decide what to do with you.”

A venomous gleam entered Bo Yeol’s eyes.

“Fine. I will. And I’ll make sure she hears just how spectacularly you imbeciles squandered your one chance.”

Mun Jeongyeok merely shrugged.

“Even if you’re telling the truth... how does that change anything?”

“...What?”

“Let’s say you’re right. That would mean you colluded with the Blood Cult. My advice? You’d be better off claiming you worked with the orthodox sects instead.”

Too late.

Bo Yeol’s face went from pale to an ashen, corpse-like gray.