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Episode 21
Heat surged through him.
His whole body felt as though it were burning. The alien force that had invaded his dantian spread down to the tips of his toes, then shot back up to the crown of his head.
It hurt.
His vision flared white, his body arched back, and no sound escaped even through his parted lips.
“Shhh, relax. Don’t fight it. Don’t try to draw on your strength.”
Puhk!
From deep below his heart came the sound of something bursting. At once his breath caught, and strength drained out of every limb.
The power of “Tang Baekseon” in his dantian scattered. It felt like a tower built painstakingly over a lifetime collapsing in an instant.
“Ughhh, ngh, uhk…”
Baekseon bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut.
The internal energy in this body wasn’t something he had cultivated himself. And yet, as it dispersed, an emptiness welled up inside his chest.
But there was no fear in him at being a man who could no longer use martial arts.
“The abolishment is complete. Your internal energy is entirely gone now.”
“Hhh… hhh…”
“Now then, let me return to you what you were once familiar with, little brother.”
As his gentle words ended, Manyugang’s hand pressed just beneath Baekseon’s sternum. Immediately, a dense energy began to flood deep into his dantian.
“Ughhh, ah…!”
The instant he accepted that heavy, fiery force, he felt as though he were walking down the wrong path.
The sensation of opening meridians that an orthodox martial artist should never touch, of receiving a power that should never be accepted.
“Mm, you’re doing well.”
He didn’t resist, only observed the flow. Meanwhile, Manyugang’s hand pressed against his ribs, calmly kneading the surrounding points.
Blocked acupoints burst open.
“Nnngh…!”
A strange sound slipped from Baekseon’s mouth.
All Manyugang was doing was clearing paths so he could circulate his new energy. Yet each time a point was pierced open, light flashed before his eyes and sharp jolts of pain spread across his body.
“Quite a sensitive body you have, little brother.”
His voice was smooth and composed as he moved his energy again.
It felt like forcing something thick and unyielding through paths that did not yet exist. As that immense current tore through his body, Baekseon could only gasp in ragged breaths.
“Hhhk, ahhh…!”
“Almost done now. You’re bearing it well.”
He sounded almost pleased. Baekseon bit down on his lip.
A tingling sensation swept through him. Blood seemed to rush strangely somewhere, his cold body felt flushed with warmth, and even a feverish illusion seized him.
“Good boy.”
At last, as though finished, Manyugang stroked his head. The warmth of his palm lingered, and with it, the torrent that had roamed throughout Baekseon’s body coiled itself deep inside his dantian.
“Do you feel it, little brother? My energy is flowing inside you now.”
“Hhh… hhh…”
Manyugang studied the sight of him—panting, cheeks flushed red, drained from the collapse of his dantian and the flood of his own yang-laden power.
“Hm…”
Watching that face, he sighed softly and slid his hand downward, pressing lightly against Baekseon’s lower abdomen.
“Uht!”
Already overheated, Baekseon let out an odd sound and slumped bonelessly.
Does he even realize the kind of noises he’s making?
Manyugang blinked, then slowly traced his fingers up over Baekseon’s ribs.
“Haah… hhh… Brother Man… isn’t it finished yet?”
As Manyugang touched him, Baekseon sluggishly lifted his gaze, sensing something amiss.
His dazed green eyes met Manyugang’s piercing blue ones in the air.
“I hadn’t thought of this side of things at all.”
“…Brother?”
“Be still for a moment.”
Muttering, Manyugang covered Baekseon’s eyes with his large hand.
Sight gone, Baekseon blinked. His long lashes brushed against Manyugang’s palm again and again. Above him came a long sigh.
“Your body hasn’t grown accustomed to its changed power yet. Sleep for a while, then wake.”
“I’m exhausted, but I don’t feel sleepy.”
“Tsk. Do as I say.”
His lips twitched in reluctant protest. He wanted to test the limits of this body, to explore his new strength. Now, at his most vigorous, he was being told to sleep with flimsy excuses.
No use defying him. I’d lose anyway.
Besides, with energy surging through him, he couldn’t possibly fall asleep. He would just pretend to rest, then wake again.
Or so he thought.
Strange…
Each time Manyugang’s hand brushed his head, drowsiness swept over him.
“Sleep well.”
With that quiet murmur, Baekseon’s consciousness snapped away.
“Phew.”
Only after Baekseon had fallen asleep did Manyugang remove his hand from his head.
He had only wanted to silence him, but Baekseon’s body—overflowing with his energy—absorbed even that light touch.
“So greedy with my power. Is it because, though the body is different, our souls shared the same space for ten years?”
He murmured while gazing down at Baekseon.
His skin was pale to the point of fragility, his long brown hair softer than that of most women, his face beautiful beyond question.
“Strange. I’ve met people prettier than you, little brother. Why is it my eyes linger on you?”
When he first sought him out, he worried he might kill him on sight. After all, Baekseon had stolen his body for ten years, used it at will, even shown kindness to those self-righteous orthodox bastards.
He had imagined slaughtering him, tearing him apart, making him bleed from every orifice. Or perhaps the cleanest option—obliterating him in an instant.
Yet the moment he met Baekseon’s eyes in Sichuan, the murderous intent he had nursed so carefully… simply vanished.
“Why… was that?”
Was it because the eyes looking back at him had shone with welcome—something he had never once seen before? Or because, for the first time in ages, he was faced with a gaze devoid of hostility?
“My heart must have grown soft indeed. That someone’s glad to see me… could erase even my will to kill.”
Though his words were bitter, his eyes brimmed with fascination.
“If you must die, it has to be by my hand alone, little brother.”
That was why he had given him a new dantian, why he had gifted him strength.
“Knowing how broken your core was, and yet you still forced yourself to use inner energy… who on earth taught you such self-destructive habits?”
He sighed softly.
If only Baekseon hadn’t acted like a moth flinging itself into flame, he wouldn’t have bothered with all this trouble.
And when Baekseon had come near Tang Clan grounds, furious at sensing demonic qi—it had been as though he truly understood Manyugang’s own suffering at the hands of the demonic cult.
“Don’t mistake me, little brother. If you start believing you understand my sorrow… you’ll end up shouldering a burden you cannot possibly bear.”
After that brief murmur, he rose to his feet.
“Still… when you called yourself the Heavenly Demon, I did like that. If someone as gentle, foolish, and soft-hearted as you is the Heavenly Demon… then perhaps the cult isn’t just a gathering of madmen.”
Of course, Baekseon himself would find the thought abhorrent.
Chuckling low, Manyugang carefully scooped the sleeping man into his arms.
“I could leave you here—your disciple would find you soon enough… but since you startled me, it’s only fair you face a few surprises of your own.”
Carrying him easily, he approached the entrance. With a tap of his finger,
Rumble—
The boulder sealing the tomb shattered, pulverized from within.
And as Manyugang stepped outside—
“…!”
Standing there was Baekseon’s disciple, Cheonrang, staring with wide, shocked eyes.
