Can a dantian have a temper?

I can’t speak for other people’s dantians, but mine sure seems to.

What happens within the body is often hard to grasp. The yang energy dwelling in my dantian was beating the living hell out of the yin energy, while the yin, despite taking a brutal pounding, was busy strangling the yang’s neck in return.

But neither side gave in.

Because ultimately, I’m the master of both. And I’m not the kind of man who submits to anything. I wasn’t sweating from tension over those around me—I was drenched because my dantian was suddenly going berserk.

“Son of a bitch…”

A man who throws himself into danger—that turned out to be me.

Meanwhile, the White-Faced Lord was doing a surprisingly good job withstanding my pressure.

The reason was simple.

I had held back a portion of my strength in case others tried to ambush me. I glared fiercely at the Lord of Uhyanggok, trying to send a silent message.

“Anyone but me. Hit the guy next to me.”

Just as the Lord of Uhyanggok’s hand moved, I tensed up completely. In that blinding instant, his sword flew past me by a hair’s breadth and rushed toward the White-Faced Lord’s face.

“Nice.”

But the White-Faced Lord pinched the blade between his thumb and forefinger with pinpoint precision. I had to silently admire the bastard’s impressive skill.

“You’re good too.”

The Lord of Uhyanggok’s eyes widened at having his blade caught.

Some people who don’t know internal energy often say, “Can’t you just twist the sword?”—but that only works sometimes. The White-Faced Lord wasn’t an idiot. The moment he caught the blade, he would’ve poured internal energy into it.

Regardless, the situation was turning against him.

Naturally, the White-Faced Lord called for his men.

“...Kill them.”

In that same instant, he exploded with power, surging his force outward. The pressure burst forth, pushing us apart.

Thud!

With a thunderous boom, the table burst apart, and a sword’s energy came slicing toward my back.

I kicked off the ground and shot upward, twisting midair to survey the battlefield. But what I saw was the White-Faced Lord, airborne at the same height as me.

We each drew the blades at our waists and slashed midair.

BOOOOOM!

The sword auras swirling around our blades collided—no metallic clang this time, just a massive shockwave and roaring noise. We both spun out of control before finally regaining our footing as we landed.

This is when acting a bit rattled becomes part of the plan.

I still had strength to conceal.

Then again, I couldn’t help checking the condition of my slender wooden sword. It was thinner than a regular long sword, and I was always a little paranoid that it might snap.

We both stood still, watching each other carefully.

I turned to Master Yukhap, standing a little ways off.

“Yuk-gap, is it?”

Holding his blade, already in a standoff with the White-Faced Lord’s men, he replied with a baffled look.

“It’s Yukhap.”

“Good enough.”

Even I didn’t know what I meant with that line.

The reason the White-Faced Lord’s men hadn’t moved hastily was because they’d been surrounded—by the Lord of Uhyanggok’s men, who had circled around and were now waiting outside.

The White-Faced Lord scanned the scene with an amused expression.

“Gokju, to betray so easily. What a shame. What a shame indeed.”

The Lord of Uhyanggok answered, sword still in hand.

“When was I ever on your side for you to call this betrayal? All I did was lose a single gamble. I never said I’d be your slave.”

I scolded him in a calm tone.

“Gambling is truly frightening, ladies and gentlemen.”

He roared back at me.

“Shut your damn mouth, you crazy Haomun bastard!”

Suddenly, I winced as my lower stomach cramped. It wasn’t that I needed to take a dump, but something was ominously off.

“No…”

With growing dread, I hastily infused flame energy into my wooden sword.

Thankfully, with a satisfying fwoosh, brilliant red flames wrapped around the blade. Just looking at it lifted my spirits a bit.

“My internal energy is normal.”

I tried to push aside the disturbing feeling in my gut by focusing my mind elsewhere. It was a trick—using distraction to suppress diarrhea. Not very effective, but better than nothing.

In my left hand, I poured cold Moonlight Cold Heart Technique into my Flash Dagger. The chilling energy dyed the blade white.

And then—unimaginable agony tore through my body.

It felt like someone was digging into my dantian with a hook, while my meridians stretched and ripped apart.

I’m used to pain. I don’t scream.

But now my dantian, which should’ve stayed in place, was rampaging, dragging my organs around with it. The pain was sickening.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake… not now…”

My whole body trembled as I tried to endure it, scanning the room. If someone attacked me now, I’d have a hard time stopping them. I instinctively stepped backward, retreating alone.

Byeokgeom asked, alarmed, “Sect Leader, are you alright?”

Even Master Yukhap looked shocked. “What’s going on? You can’t do this now—we’ll all die!”

The White-Faced Lord gave a nod, and four middle-aged swordsmen advanced to face Byeokgeom and Yukhap.

One of them spoke to Yukhap in a dignified tone.

“Please stay back. So you’re Master Yukhap. Why are you siding with the Haomun Lord?”

Yukhap replied curtly.

“Not your concern.”

Everyone in Uhyanggok was staring at me, but I couldn’t help it—I couldn’t even speak now.

As the yin and yang clashed violently inside me, I knelt to recover, gritting my teeth through the pain.

“Goddamn it.”

Was this a sudden outbreak of internal deviation? Or was it my body convulsing in shock? The yin and yang energies in my dantian were trying to devour each other like maniacs.

They were supposed to harmonize, and instead they were brawling.

Maybe this is why women don’t like me.

Then, the White-Faced Lord—who’d been observing me closely—burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! He’s in the middle of internal deviation. Enjoy the show, then kill him. Hahaha! This idiot dared to stand against me—he’ll be vomiting blood soon. I guarantee it.”

And sure enough, blood mixed with sweat gushed from my pores.

Several onlookers reeled back in horror at the sight of me drenched in blood.

My mouth finally opened, and curses tumbled out.

“Ah, fuck…”

Yeop Yahong shouted in excitement.

“Whoa! It’s true!”

I raised a shaky hand to buy time.

“Yeop Sohyeop, wait—”

“Wait, my ass!”

He swaggered in, shoulders bouncing, moving his head like a monkey. As he approached, he asked cheerfully,

“Are you okay, Lord?”

“Not okay. Stop there.”

“Scared, huh? Haha… What’s this? You’re bleeding all over! What kind of dumbass martial art makes you bleed from your whole body? Where the hell did you learn that, you bastard?!”

Even in this desperate moment, I answered.

“Self-taught.”

Yeop Yahong stomped his foot laughing.

“Look at you! Crazy bastard! Hahaha! Self-taught, huh? Think you’re a genius?”

“I worked hard at it too. Ever heard of firefly-and-snow persistence?”

But when I quoted a proverb, Yeop Yahong suddenly switched tones and barked at me.

“Hey, you Haomun fuck! I used to think you were terrifying—I was scared shitless for no reason. You rude bastard, you dumbass, even your name’s stupid. Stay right there. I’m chopping off your right arm to start.”

The White-Faced Lord chuckled and warned him.

“Don’t let your guard down, Yeop brat.”

“Yes, sir! I won’t. Here I come!”

Still, a flicker of fear crept into Yeop Yahong’s expression as he approached, sword extended.

My whole body suddenly relaxed. I withdrew the flame energy from my wooden sword and the cold energy from my Flash Dagger.

A deep sigh escaped me.

“Phew…”

Yeop Yahong curled his fingers.

“I, Yeop Yahong, will be the man who cuts down the Haomun Lord. Get up, you bastard. Time to taste defeat.”

I sheathed my wooden sword and switched the Flash Dagger to my right hand.

“Yeop Sohyeop.”

“What?”

I couldn’t stop the tears falling from both eyes.

Yeop Yahong looked startled.

“Whoa, blood tears?”

I wiped beneath my eyes and, just like he said, found blood, sweat, and tears smeared across my fingers.

But I’m not the kind of man who breaks easily.

Though drained, I still raised the Flash Dagger with a trembling hand, aiming to kill Yeop Yahong. Blood trickled from my palm down the dagger’s hilt and dripped onto the floor.

Rage surged through me, and I drew both yin and yang energies from my dantian and wrapped them around the blade in a single breath.

A bizarre screech rang out as the dagger’s blade turned a strange shade of violet.

“…”

Even I had never seen a sword aura that color before.

It was wild.

Red, white, blood, sweat, and tears all fused into that strange light.

But the color wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. It resembled the violet sunset I once stared at blankly.

“Zihwa Sword Aura…?”

As I gazed, stunned by the hue, Yeop Yahong approached. I swung the dagger.

A sharp slicing sound echoed—and the violet sword aura cleaved through both his blade and his body, rising ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) straight into the sky.

I called out, regretfully.

“Yeop Sohyeop?”

He was looking at me—but the light in his eyes had already died. Blood spread in a diagonal slash across his torso before his body split clean in two and dropped to the ground.

Thud…

Mouth slightly agape, I stared at Yeop Yahong as he ascended to the heavens.

“I was gonna rough him up a little first. Shame he died.”

The pain seemed to subside, and my body rapidly recovered.

With intent, I released a bit of dantian energy through the pores that had expelled all that blood and sweat. The red droplets around me dispersed, and violet mist slowly settled around where I stood.

Only Master Yukhap here would know my name.

He looked at me with a blank expression and spoke.

“Zaha?”

I wasn’t sure if he meant me or the mist, so I answered in my usual tone.

“Yuk-gap, what?”

Yukhap chuckled as if amused.

“So it wasn’t internal deviation?”

“Nope.”

I tucked away the Flash Dagger and looked at the shocked White-Faced Lord.

“If you’d attacked me earlier, you might’ve had a shot. Too late now. I’ve recovered. Bought enough time. You’ll soon realize it was all tactics, strategy, psychological warfare.”

Looking embarrassed, the White-Faced Lord raised a finger and ordered his men.

“Attack.”

As his subordinates rushed me, the White-Faced Lord leapt into the air and bolted, using light footwork.

“That bastard…”

I took a few steps toward his direction and asked Yukhap,

“Yuk-gap, can you handle things here?”

“I’ll have to. Gokju’s here too.”

I slashed upward from lower left to upper right, and violet sword energy burst out like a feather, slicing the necks of three swordsmen in a flash.

Splurt!

I was more surprised than anyone by the clean kills.

“Creepy.”

I soared into the air, spun, and fired a palm strike to launch myself backward, gaining distance with a neat trick.

I stepped on branches, rebounded off tree trunks, and kept my eyes on the fleeing White-Faced Lord.

In times like these, I don’t care about the underlings.

I’ve always preferred pummeling a single guy—don’t know why. But something about a fleeing man awakens a primal desire to chase him down.

I accelerated my footwork, taunting him.

“White-Faced, you think you can get away?”

“…”

“My best skill is light footwork, dumbass! You abandoned your own men? Left them behind!”

I gave chase, hellbent on hunting down the cowardly fake.

My dantian fluttered like a reed—or perhaps formed a Taiji symbol. Maybe yin and yang called a truce. Whatever. Not my concern.

All I know is—I got stronger.

That’s enough.