A Bottle of Booze and Life to Take

Martial arts this, martial arts that… Martial arts is all you fuckers talk about.

'My martial arts is the greatest in the world! Not a single person can nullify it!' Bullshit, your martial arts isn't even third-rate, you should throw away your sword and focus on living a better life.

Even the bastards I killed in the past were proud of their martial arts, no wonder they're stupid; their minds became rotten mush because of their belief in martial arts.

Internal energy this, internal energy that. Fools trying to intimidate people just because they have some fancy energy that makes worthless martial arts a tad bit stronger. People like that should just die.

Martial arts? Internal energy? Heavenly and Demonic weapons? Sects, clans, prefectures? All these bastards are just bastards bragging to other bastards about how good they are at swinging a tree branch through the air.

-Bastard, are you done talking shit about Murim? Or are you going to monologue all day?

Such hypocrisy, bastards naming themselves based on their intentions, not their actions. Yet their actions are rarely in line with their intentions, the hypocrisy of martial artists is deep.

"Just leave me be, I'm tired and don't want to be bothered by trash."

Alone I sat atop the flat, grassy peak of Mt. Baishi, staring somberly at the sunset on the horizon with a single tree casting a shadow behind me. The world looks so beautiful from up here, so beautiful are the creations of society. 

If only martial arts didn't fall from such beauty, I wouldn't have given up on it.

-Bullshit, you would have given up on it regardless.

"Will you shut up already? I've had to listen to your ramblings all day…"

Even in front of such a beautiful sight, these damn voices won't go away.

They say Qi Deviation drives people insane if left uncured, but really it just disrupts how the qi within a person flows. It's the experiences that happen while experiencing Qi Deviation that drives a person insane.

Discrimination for not being strong enough, being shunned, and getting kicked out of inns. With those happening enough times, anyone would turn crazy.

-Just kill yourself already, that's why you came here after all.

Why had I traveled to the top of Mt.Baishi? To escape the curse that's been with me since birth, Sword Unification. 

Unifying one's will with their sword to cut down whatever is in their way, that is the curse I was born with. Sure, this curse of mine has been helpful from time to time, but it's the main cause of all my problems, so it's still a curse.

Countless martial masters challenge me year-round because of this curse of mine, it became so monotonous after the first hundred people died by my sword.

I grabbed the urn of wine by my side as I responded to the voices in my head.

'Let me finish my booze first…' 

These voices are so impatient, despite not being alive. I downed the last mouthful of wine in the urn as the sun continued to set in the horizon. Such a fine last drink to have in front of a beautiful sight.

"Young man, why do you chug that wine as if there's nothing left to do? Surely someone of your age is healthy."

I stood up while savoring the last drops of wine in my mouth, time was up, and I could feel death's grasp reaching for me.

"Young man, are you listening to me? Please sit down with me, this geezer would like to have a drink with you."

I leapt forward off of Mt. Baishi and yelled into the skies.

"Gahhh! Shut up you damn voices! First you want me to hurry and kill myself, then you want to have another drink! No wonder I'm crazy!"

The bright orange sky above me grew wide as I fell from the peak of Mt. Baishi. My heart began to race as everything but the sky turned into a blur. The wind roared through my ears and my back arched upward as I cut through the wind.

As I fell my mind became clearer than the sky on a hot afternoon, the voices are finally gone… What a relief. I lived crazy, but at least I didn't die crazy. I closed my eyes, waiting for my impending death, finally I would be free from this hell.

"Tsk, young man I am no illusion, have a seat and drink with this old man will you?"

The roaring wind calmed and my back fell lightly onto a rough grassy patch of ground. I slowly opened my eyes in confusion as I found myself back on the peak of Mt. Baishi. 

"I'm… back? Why am I back on this mountain? I swear I jumped off the peak a second ago."

One look around the mountain peak answered my question. A short old man with grey hair that nearly reached the ground wearing white robes stained with blood stood behind me with his hand on my robes.

I tried to free myself from the old man's grasp, but gave up after failing numerous times. This man was a martial artist, no doubt about it. 

The position of his feet and the way he held one arm behind his back as if to show he was more refined than normal people gave off the aura of a martial artist.

The old man's forearm was larger than my own, his hand bore scars as a sign from the training and battles they had gone through. His face showed calmness and dignity, but his eyes, his eyes showed the strive for life and power that all martial artists held.

Though the blood on his robes explained it better, why would a regular person climb a mountain with blood on their robes?

I looked back at the man and spoke.

"Old man, why are you torturing me?"

"Torturing you? Is that how you see it?" The old man replied as he released my robes. "I just figured you would want to end your life after drinking something better than that third-rate wine."

The urn of wine I had was third-rate? If a normal person were to buy it it'd cost them a little more than three Gold Taels, I only had it because I stole it from some drunk martial artist who tried kicking me out of a brothel.

"Every minute I'm alive is torture. You're not doing anyone a favor right now."

The old man who prevented my death walked to the edge where I gazed into the sunset and sat down next to the empty urn of wine I was drinking from. In his right arm tucked behind his back he held a small urn, wrapped in multiple layers of rope.

One more drink won't hurt, especially if this geezer was speaking the truth about my wine being third-rate. 

I sat down next to the bloodstained geezer, the stench his robes gave off was horrid, he must have killed some poor fools on his way up here. He got blood in his hair too, I did the same a few times, it's not pleasant getting it out.

"Drink up. You still want to die right? I'll help you if you drink this."

The old man held out the urn, clearly not taking no for an answer. The bottle probably was poisoned, but I just want this to be over, no point in denying it.

"This better be good, my wine is hard to beat."

I reached out to grab the urn, but the old man pulled his arm back before I could grab it. Why did this geezer offer me booze if he wasn't going to give it to me.

"This binding is infused with qi, a normal person like you wouldn't be able to cut it open."

Does this old man not know who I am? I could cut that urn in half within seconds with my Sword Unification, but that would waste my last drink. 

The old man sliced off the rope keeping the urn closed with a glimmer of qi showering over his fingers. Only to hand me the urn once more before speaking.

"You came to kill yourself in front of a beautiful sight, why?"

I sat in silence after grabbing the urn, I don't tell people why I do things, especially if they're martial artists. I raised the urn to my nose and caught a whiff of the wine, the old man was right so far, this wine smelt much better than my wine.

The wine is weird, it's not completely liquid, it sticks to the urn when I move it around. Its color was black around the edge of the urn and red down the center, I'd never seen such a wine.

I lowered the urn to the grassy mountain peak and turned my head to look at the old man's face.

"What kind of wine is this?"

The old man looked at me before replying.

"I never said it was wine, drink it."

I looked back down at the multicolored drink with blank stare, a drink is a drink, I might as well take it. I raised the urn to my lips and began to drink the black and red liquid. Its sticky texture felt weird as it slid down my throat, but its sweet flavor akin to eating candied fruit made the texture bearable. 

As I swallowed the last of the liquid from the urn the old man turned his head back to the setting sun that overlooked the bustling province which resided near the base of Mt. Baishi.

As me and the old man stared at the beautiful sunset, he asked me a simple question.

"Your mind is a mess young man, is death really the only solution for you?"

As I opened my mouth to respond, a surge of heat began to emanate from my stomach and burn my insides. I only managed to nod my head in agreement, as the heat surged through my entire body.

"I see, then before I help you, can this old man know your name at least?"

The old man stood up as I struggled with the heat that made even my bones tremble. As if someone was sharpening a sword against a stone, the sound of the old man unsheathing a dagger he had stashed in his robes echoed through the mountain peak.

"Young man, what is your name?"

The old man stepped closer and pointed his dagger at my neck, he was positioned to cleave my head off as soon as he heard my name. It's a simple request, and for the sake of being freed from this cursed life, I mustered as much strength as I could to speak my final words.

"Lee… Haneul. My name… is Lee Haneul."

The old man's posture remained unchanged after hearing my name, he must have known who I was from the start. 

"Have a good next life, Lee Haneul."

Heiikk!