Sui-Tang: Wu Song, Hammering Golden Immortals While Never Putting Down His Wine

He transmigrated as a cripple, with thugs trampling his face. No matter. One swig of cheap liquor, and his fighting power soared.

Don't like the look of you? One punch will smash you to pieces. An army at the gates? One swing of his axe will cleave it apart. The eighteen rebel kings and all the reincarnated gods and Buddhas are nothing but barnyard fowl and stray dogs blocking his path.

His name is Wu Song. A drunkard. A god of slaughter.

For the sake of a farm girl, he slaughtered an entire squad of soldiers. For the sake of a promise, he stood against the thunder tribulation of the heavens. When people asked what he was fighting for, he said nothing. He only drank.

Until that night, when he cleaved apart the sea of thunder, then sat among the ruins with his confidante's corpse in his arms, covered in blood. He set down his empty bowl.

"This liquor isn't right!"