Chapter 648
It felt as if the world had stopped.
The music came to an abrupt halt, and everyone froze mid-motion as though by a silent agreement.
In that sudden stillness, the cold gaze of Baek Sang—directed straight at me—was interrupted by a single line from the Beast Miao King.
“Brother, take your seat.”
His eyes, fixed on me, slowly turned away.
Whether he’d changed his clothes or not, Baek Sang’s snow-white sleeves fluttered as he resumed walking.
“Very well.”
‘Step. Step.’
He ascended the dais, composed and dignified, his voice calm as though nothing had happened.
Watching him climb the steps flanked by two tribe chiefs, the Beast Miao King’s expression carried a trace of bitterness.
‘Understandable.’
One called the other “Brother,” while the other replied with “Lord.”
Though they weren’t bound by blood, the two men were said to have grown up together as sworn brothers.
And yet, I had never once heard Baek Sang call the Beast Miao King ‘Brother.’
That thought brought another question to mind.
‘What does the Beast Miao King mean to Baek Sang?’
Was he a brother bound by lingering affection?
A superior within the Beast Palace’s hierarchy?
Or perhaps…
‘The enemy who led to the death of his only son in the Great War of Justice and Evil?’
I didn’t know. But I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough—one way or another.
Hopefully, it would be in the better way.
The Beast Miao King seemed to share that hope.
“Let this foolish older brother pour you a drink.”
Baek Sang looked silently at the bottle in the Beast Miao King’s hand before replying in his usual detached tone.
“I’ve abstained from wine and women for decades now. I must decline.”
Even though the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace was a divided tribal system, the lord’s authority was absolute.
Baek Sang’s refusal was something only ‘he’ could dare—because he wasn’t just a great tribe chief, but the lord’s sworn brother.
“You used to love fruit wine as a child. And now you won’t even accept a drink I brewed myself? It’s fruit wine, made with my own hands for you, my brother.”
“Baek Sang…”
At the Beast Miao King’s quiet, wistful call, Baek Sang slowly closed and reopened his eyes before lifting his cup.
“If you insist… very well.”
“Then—”
“I’ll take the cup, but not the drink.”
Only then did the Beast Miao King’s expression ease as he filled Baek Sang’s cup to the brim. Then, lowering his voice so only the two of us could hear, he murmured,
“I’d rather both of you forget what happened in the great hall. You’ve both wronged each other enough as it is.”
Baek Sang still felt suspicious and unpleasant to me, but I wasn’t stupid enough to stir up more trouble here.
“Understood. I admit, I may have gone a little too far.”
Baek Sang, who had been watching me with an unreadable gaze, gave a slight nod.
“I apologize for showing such disgraceful behavior, my lord.”
The unexpected sincerity caught me off guard.
The Beast Miao King smiled broadly, satisfied, and turned to shout,
“Tonight is a joyous occasion! The tribes of the Southern Barbarian Region and our honored guests from the Central Plains all gather here. Eat, drink, and be merry!”
His booming voice echoed through the hall, and soon the music resumed.
Male and female dancers intertwined as their graceful movements filled the training hall once more.
The tension finally began to melt away.
But then, amid the music, a sharp whisper reached my ears.
— ‘Guests from the Central Plains, is it? How amusing.’
Ah.
‘Figures. That was too easy.’
I scratched my nose, glancing at the Beast Miao King. He was standing, rallying the tribes and their warriors, unaware of what was happening behind him.
— ‘Leave. There’s no place for you here.’
The whisper persisted, its voice as cold as steel. I downed the fruit wine in one gulp before replying through sound transmission.
— ‘Not very hospitable of you, is it? Even if you hate the Han, I saved plenty of your people at Mount Aino last night.’
— ‘I’ll pay you.’
— ‘What?’
— ‘What do you want? Gold? Silver? Name your price. I’ll give you wealth heavier than your own body.’
— ‘Hmph.’
The once-sweet taste of fruit wine turned bitter—just like my mood.
‘Gold and silver, huh?’
I’d expected cold treatment, but this felt worse than I imagined.
I refilled my cup and sent another whisper.
— ‘Didn’t do it for reward. Do the people of the Southern Barbarian Region really compare human lives to coins?’
— ‘Of course not. A tribesman’s life is beyond price. But a Han’s life… is another matter.’
— ‘Why?’
— ‘Because your people—’
The voice trailed off. Baek Sang stared at his cup with those somber gray eyes before shaking his head.
— ‘I’ve said too much. Enough talk. Leave.’
— ‘If you cut me off like this, I won’t sleep tonight. How about being honest for once and finding a way to fix this?’
— ‘A solution, you say?’
He chuckled.
It was the first time I’d seen him laugh.
And the emotion behind that faint smile was unmistakable—contempt.
‘Clink! Crash!’
The sound was swallowed by the banquet’s noise, but I saw it clearly—
The porcelain cup slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor, spilling wine everywhere.
‘Drip. Drop.’
The fruit wine streamed down the stone steps as Baek Sang’s voice returned, low and cold.
— ‘It’s already too late. Just like that spilled wine.’
— ‘Too late, huh? You sure about that?’
I looked down at the scene for a moment, then extended my hand.
‘Whoosh!’
A strand of qi flowed from my fingertips, rippling gently across the ground.
Then, as though time itself rewound, the shattered pieces rose into the air, swirling toward my palm.
‘Swish. Clink!’
Dozens of fragments drew together like magnets. My qi became the glue that sealed each edge until—finally—the cup was whole again.
A faint murmur spread through the hall.
Glancing around, I caught their reactions.
Nam Ho and Heukung stood frozen with their mouths open. Sama Pyo and Yohee exchanged surprised looks. Taesan even forgot to chew, staring blankly.
‘Not bad. My control’s definitely sharper since opening my middle dantian.’
If it was enough to make Taesan stop eating, that was proof enough.
“Hmm, not bad. For a [Heavenly Martial Body] user, this much [Void Grasp] isn’t half bad.”
As I admired my handiwork, Baek Sang spoke in his flat tone.
“Were you trying to show off your skill? If so, that’s a pitiful excuse for craftsmanship.”
“Pitiful?”
“That cup can’t hold anything. The wine will leak through the cracks before it’s even poured.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t a god—true restoration was impossible without turning back time itself.
And sure enough, the cup bore faint cracks. The wine that had soaked into the floor couldn’t be retrieved.
But still—
“You’re too fussy. It’s a cup. As long as it can hold a drink, that’s enough.”
With a shrug, I filled the cup to overflowing, then wrapped my hand around its leaking surface and drank.
‘Gulp.’
The warmth hit my throat like fire.
I exhaled, the fragrant aroma of fruit wine spilling with my words.
“See? Cracked or not, if it can still hold something to drink, it’s still a cup.”
Baek Sang’s eyes darkened.
— ‘And what of the wine that’s already spilled?’
Anyone else might’ve thought he was talking nonsense.
But after our earlier exchange, I knew what he meant.
‘The cup is faith. The spilled wine… people.’
During the Great War of Justice and Evil, the Beast Palace lost countless tribesmen.
And Baek Sang, for reasons he refused to speak, had since lost all faith in the Central Plains.
So, by mending the shattered cup, I was showing him my intent.
Whether he took it as a plea for trust—or a final warning—was up to him.
The message had been delivered.
I glanced around the bright, lively hall.
At its center stood the Beast Miao King, watching me with sharp eyes even as he laughed and toasted the crowd.
‘Damn, that man’s perceptive.’
For some reason, I felt like a high schooler caught sneaking around.
I shrugged toward him, feigning innocence, then stood up.
“Where are you going?” came Baek Sang’s voice from behind.
“Piss,” I replied bluntly. “That fruit wine’s stronger than it looks.”
—
“Ugh!”
The man looked like a bear. But not even his massive body or the aura of a high-level martial artist could save him from the hand crushing his throat.
‘Crack!’
“Ugh… y-you… who are y—”
A grip like steel tightened without mercy. Blood streamed from his scalp as his vision blurred into red haze.
He struggled to speak, gasping desperately.
“P-please… s-spare… me…”
He wanted to live—desperately.
But the monster strangling him did not.
‘Crunch!’
Bone snapped. His eyes rolled back, white and empty.
The man’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
The figure standing over him loosened his grip.
‘Thud.’
The corpse rolled heavily onto the blood-soaked earth. The killer—expressionless—murmured quietly.
‘That was the last one, wasn’t it?’
Just half an hour ago, enemies had ambushed from both ends of the canyon.
Their cries echoed—
‘We’ll tear you apart! For our brothers and comrades!’
‘Kill him!’
And so the battle began—one against many.
He’d cut them down endlessly, until he lost count.
‘Two hundred, maybe.’
They’d gathered quite a force.
Not that it mattered—the outcome had been decided from the start.
A mountain of corpses.
A sea of blood.
It was the only way to describe the scene.
Standing in an unnamed canyon of Guizhou, the lone figure leaned against a rock and picked up his weapon.
‘Clang. Rattle.’
The metallic chime of the [Spade Staff] rang through the air.
Stepping through pools of blood, the figure began to walk again—heading south.