The two tables of people laughing and chatting were unaffected, and they consumed quite a bit more of the yellow broth, which seemed to loosen their tongues even more once the powerful effects of the realgar wine took hold.
"I heard that over in Huayin they've been fighting fiercely, even dragging in people from the Huashan Sect."
"It must be those from the Demon Cult, right?"
"Who knows? The Divine Fist Clan on the shore of the Changjian River was wiped out overnight. It's said they defected to the Demon Cult, so I'd wager it was Mr. Yue from the Huashan Sect who made a move."
"Nonsense," laughed a man who was about six parts drunk, "Those from the Divine Fist Clan didn't die near the Changjian River; they died in Shangluo."
"Besides... Even Mr. Yue from the Huashan Sect wouldn't dare to wipe out the Demon Cult on his own initiative nowadays."
"Who isn't afraid of Dongfang not... losing..."
As the word "losing" spilled from his lips, the six-parts-drunk man suddenly shivered.
