The Darkness Returns (3)
The late winter wind had finally begun to settle, but spring was still far away.
Even bundled in thick furs, the weather remained bitterly cold. Yet Dang Sang-ah stood in the training yard wearing only light martial attire, eyes closed.
Inhale. Exhale.
Unlike her usual long, tranquil breaths, hers were short and forceful.
…….
How long had she been standing there?
Shrrrip.
A small piece of paper pinned to the wall fluttered in the cold breeze before tearing free and flying away.
At that instant, Dang Sang-ah’s eyes snapped open.
Piiiiing!
Two iron coins streaked through the air with a piercing cry, tracing sharp arcs to either side.
Thud! Clang!
The center of the airborne paper vanished in a clean hole. The two coins had struck the exact same spot with perfect timing. After piercing the paper, they embedded themselves in the wall with a sharp metallic ring.
Flutter!
The perforated paper soared even higher into the wind.
Dang Sang-ah let out a long sigh.
“I still can’t control my power.”
Her throwing techniques were exquisitely refined. Her trained eye method, flexible wrists, and the intangible web of deceptive qi she could spread were all flawless. The single flaw that remained was her inability to precisely regulate her internal energy output.
Still no good. Have I not worked hard enough?
No, that couldn’t be right.
Though many things had happened within the Martial Alliance, Dang Sang-ah had devoted herself entirely to solitary training. Of course, as a member of the Tangma Army she had never skipped joint drills, but outside of those she trained so relentlessly she even forgot to eat.
Perhaps that was why her martial arts had stepped into an entirely new realm compared to just a few months ago.
Yet like any profound study, the higher one climbed, the more clearly one’s shortcomings appeared. That was precisely why Dang Sang-ah had grown increasingly obsessed with training. The higher she rose, the more clearly she perceived her weaknesses, and she trained to overcome them.
She watched the paper flutter away on the wind.
I thought it would work this time.
She hadn’t been trying to pierce the center. Her true intention had been to drive the coin through the paper’s center and pin it firmly to the wall.
Some might dismiss the difference as trivial, but to her it marked the line between advancing another step at a critical juncture or remaining stagnant. The reason was simple: such a feat demanded extremely delicate control of internal energy.
Only by mastering that level of precision could one manifest more varied martial principles upon reaching higher realms. In other words, it meant becoming stronger.
Dang Sang-ah drew in a deep breath.
“Whether it’s effort or talent, if something is lacking, I must acknowledge it. If it doesn’t work, I simply continue until it does.”
She cast off her disappointment with refreshing clarity. Just as others had grown, she too had grown considerably.
And the driving force behind that growth lay in the proper ordering of ‘relationships.’
Piiiiiiing! Ting!
Dang Sang-ah’s eyes widened.
An iron coin had flown in from somewhere, traced a perfect arc, snatched the paper from the air, and embedded itself in the wall with a solid thunk.
There it was—the ideal internal energy control she had been seeking. And within the entire Martial Alliance, there was only one person capable of such refined throwing technique.
“It isn’t a problem with your internal energy.”
Dang Sang-ah turned around.
There stood Dang Gwan, hands clasped behind his back as he approached.
“Father.”
Dang Gwan spoke in his characteristically blunt tone.
“Widen your vision.”
“Pardon?”
Though they had not yet reached perfect understanding, their relationship had clearly improved. It was thanks to this that Dang Sang-ah could focus on her training without distraction.
Yet the conflicts accumulated over the years ran too deep. That was why she could not easily ask her father for guidance.
“Internal energy is a product of intent. Therefore, the subject that moves it is also intent.”
Dang Gwan tapped his own head with a finger.
Will. Intent. Focus.
Dang Sang-ah asked carefully, “Are you saying my concentration was insufficient…?”
“Your concentration is more than adequate. However, you have overlooked one thing.”
“Yes?”
“If handling internal energy is a matter of intent, then accumulating it is also a product of intent. But what is that intent connected to?”
“……?”
“This.”
Dang Gwan pressed his thumb firmly against his own solar plexus.
Dang Sang-ah’s eyes brightened.
The head, then the chest.
“The upper dantian and middle dantian?”
“There is no need to go that far. The important point is that the nature of your internal energy can shift subtly depending on your state of mind.”
“Its nature can change? I have made progress in my internal energy, but its nature feels the same as before…”
Dang Gwan simply stared at her without replying.
He wasn’t glaring—his gaze was steady, almost gentle. Yet Dang Sang-ah felt strangely embarrassed.
“One moment.”
She closed her eyes and focused on her internal energy.
It feels the same?
It was the energy of the Doban Samyang Gwiwongong that she had learned directly from her grandfather. Thanks to the minute amount of internal energy he had transmitted through her body, the quality of her accumulated power had risen at a terrifying rate. But that didn’t mean this energy belonged to her grandfather, did it?
Dang Sang-ah opened her eyes, about to ask her father, but stopped herself.
He wouldn’t have spoken those words without reason. I simply failed to see it.
She trusted her father’s skill. Their relationship might be tangled beyond repair, but his ability was genuine. Among the heads of the six great families, he would easily rank at the very top.
If her father said it, then it was true. She examined her internal energy more deeply, more earnestly.
A moment later—
…Huh?
Dang Sang-ah’s eyes flew open, filled with astonishment.
“This is…!”
“Now you understand?”
Dang Gwan frowned.
“Until now, you have simply followed the flow of energy your grandfather passed to you. Thanks to your talent, effort, and his energy transmission, you grew stronger faster than anyone else. But you never truly made it your own.”
He was right.
Dang Sang-ah had been mistaken. The internal energy she had cultivated so far resembled her grandfather’s—the Dark King, one of the Sacred Heavens Thirteen Seats—far more than it did her own.
She had never considered that strange. Her grandfather had transmitted energy not to increase its quantity but to elevate its quality. He had shown her the path forward.
It was only natural that her energy would resemble his. That was what she had believed.
But now, her internal energy was subtly different from the Dark King’s.
“Your energy still resembles mine. But its foundation is changing. I can see it clearly.”
“……!!”
“That is your true internal energy.”
Dang Sang-ah let out a hollow laugh.
“Why…?!”
The question of why the nature of her energy had only changed now came second.
What shocked her was the realization that she had foolishly believed the energy she cultivated was entirely her own. How could she have made such a mistake?
“Because you have been living passively.”
“…Passively?”
“Internal energy is the heart. The stronger the practitioner’s heart and intent, the greater the power of the self.”
“……”
“The fact that the qi in your dantian has finally become yours means the immaturity of depending on your father has disappeared.”
Dang Gwan pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve.
“Now control your internal energy in your own way. At your age, your father already possessed extremely powerful internal energy. You are different.”
Dang Sang-ah’s eyes sparkled.
Without another word, Dang Gwan tossed the handkerchief.
Swish! Hoo-woong.
The handkerchief flew like a thrown dagger but lost momentum near the wall and began to flutter gently downward.
At that moment, Dang Sang-ah’s hand moved like lightning.
Ching!
The iron coin traced an arc through the air, caught the handkerchief, and pinned it firmly to the wall.
Dang Sang-ah’s face brightened. Though the handkerchief was heavier than paper, she had succeeded.
“Fath—!”
She turned to call for her father, but her eyes widened. At some point he had begun walking away with his hands clasped behind his back, heading into the distance.
“Father!”
Dang Gwan stopped walking. Naturally, he did not turn around.
Dang Sang-ah hurried after him and spoke in an awkward voice.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t teach you because you’re pretty.”
“Pardon?”
Dang Gwan looked at her.
“Don’t go around calling yourself a talented person of the Tang family when you look like that. You are still sorely lacking.”
“Ah, yes.”
“The name of our family is never light. If you don’t want to tarnish it, you must become at least better than you are now.”
Dang Sang-ah smiled.
She now understood her father’s personality well. He was probably embarrassed about having given her advice.
“Yes. I will train even harder.”
Dang Gwan turned his head without replying.
Dang Sang-ah quickly added, “You came all this way. Are you really leaving just like that?”
“……”
“If you haven’t eaten yet, let’s have a meal together.”
“No.”
“Ah! You must be busy.”
Dang Sang-ah tried to hide her disappointment.
Dang Gwan’s voice grew even stiffer.
“That fellow wouldn’t come looking for me unless it was something serious. Since he’s even brought his axe, it seems he’s made up his mind.”
“Pardon?”
With a puzzled expression, Dang Sang-ah followed her father’s gaze.
“Oh? Lord Yeon?”
Indeed. Yeon Hojeong was walking toward them.
He wore the uniform of the Myeolsa Army commander with the Mad Dragon Axe slung over his shoulder. The faint sound of clinking metal suggested he was also wearing the Flood Dragon Chain beneath his clothes.
It was full battle readiness. She had not seen Yeon Hojeong armed in such a manner recently.
But Dang Gwan noticed what his daughter could not.
“It’s different.”
“Pardon?”
Dang Gwan’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Brat. Did something happen? Your eyes have changed.”
Dang Sang-ah looked at Yeon Hojeong once more.
His expression was blank. The clear black-and-white gaze remained the same. She could not see what had changed.
A moment later, Yeon Hojeong stopped before the Tang father and daughter.
“Patriarch.”
Dang Gwan asked with a nonchalant expression, “What brings you all the way here carrying that ugly axe of yours?”
“I have a request to make.”
“It must be quite the request.”
“However…”
Yeon Hojeong glanced at Dang Sang-ah and tilted his head.
“Oh? Something’s changed, hasn’t it?”
“Y-yes?”
“Your aura has subtly shifted. It doesn’t seem to be from an increase in internal energy volume. It looks like you’ve gained some realization.”
Surprise bloomed across Dang Sang-ah’s face.
It was understandable for her father, who was intimately familiar with the Tang family’s internal energy, but she had not expected Yeon Hojeong to see through her change at a single glance.
“Whatever it is, congratulations. You look like you’re finally wearing clothes that fit properly. I look forward to your future progress.”
“Th-thank you.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded and turned back to Dang Gwan.
The patriarch’s eyes deepened.
“So. What is it?”
“Before I ask for that favor, please look at this first.”
Woo-woong.
Yeon Hojeong gripped the shaft of the Mad Dragon Axe and held it out.
He presented the massive weapon that weighed over eighty catties as lightly as a hand axe. His strength was still monstrous.
Dang Gwan, who had been quietly observing him, lowered his gaze to the axe.
“Hmm.”
He ran his hand along the blade of the Mad Dragon Axe and nodded.
“It’s excellent. I don’t know which craftsman made it, but it lacks nothing to be called the work of a master.”
Coming from Dang Gwan, the words were practically the highest praise.
“But why are you showing me this?”
Yeon Hojeong lowered the axe.
“Please make me a few more axes.”
“What?”
“They don’t need to match the Mad Dragon Axe, but I’d appreciate it if you gave them your full attention.”
“……”
“I already knew your arrogance reached the heavens. I’ll overlook the fact that you dare make such a request to the patriarch of the Tang family.”
“……”
“What is going on?”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes grew icy.
For a moment, Dang Gwan felt a chill run through his chest.
“It seems there will be some blood to spill.”