The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 18

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 18
Hwang Jeong-cheol could not make sense of what was happening.
Even if he’d managed to acquire some classified techniques through undercover work, the time away from martial training would have been substantial.
That’s why he’d requested this observation—to account for the rust.
Hearing that the young master had skipped lessons and run wild since childhood, Hwang Jeong-cheol figured he’d rate as excellent at best.
So he’d been confident: as a Peak Realm master and member of the Black Steel Corps, there was no way he could lose.
Until the sparring began, he’d planned to crush this arrogant young master who didn’t know his place—the way the word had come down through channels—and teach him the meaning of reality.
That’s what he’d thought.
‘What on earth is this?’
Only after his palms pressed against the cold, rough floor of the Training Grounds did he understand.
Dang Yoo-hyeon’s martial prowess was overwhelming him.
‘Super Peak Realm? No. At the absolute minimum, Peak Realm.’
He couldn’t fathom when such martial skill had been cultivated.
“What are you doing? Get up.”
Dang Yoo-hyeon looked down at Hwang Jeong-cheol with an expressionless face.
He’d never intended for this to end in victory—not from the start.
His victory was an inevitable conclusion.
What he sought was only the restoration of his senses, and if possible, guidance from the Black Steel Corps itself.
Because of that, he couldn’t simply wait for Hwang Jeong-cheol to gather himself.
“Are you conceding defeat?”
“I am not!”
Hwang Jeong-cheol sprang to his feet and took up his stance again.
‘I wish I had time to throw one more volley instead of this.’
Regret lingered, but there was nothing for it.
He was still young—what did he understand?
‘Until I regain my touch, I’ll give it back to him exactly as it comes. Watch well and learn.’
Whoosh!
With Dang Yoo-hyeon standing motionless, Hwang Jeong-cheol launched his Flying Blades again.
Seven blades occupied the cardinal and intercardinal points, screaming forth like lightning.
‘Soul Escape Seven Stars.’
Dang Yoo-hyeon wrapped his Inner Force thinly around his blades and unfolded the same Flying Blade Arts.
Clang! Clang!
Fresh blades fell upon the ones Hwang Jeong-cheol hadn’t yet recovered.
“What—!?”
“Your form isn’t bad. But your power is weak. At this rate, you’ll be cut down before you even pierce your opponent.”
“Where exactly is it lacking!?”
Thud!
Hwang Jeong-cheol stamped the ground.
In the same instant, a hand hidden beneath his billowing sleeve unleashed more Flying Blades.
Hiss—!
Two blades carved broad arcs through the air.
Soul-Chasing Flying Butterfly—pressing from left and right, then closing distance for a frontal assault.
Not a poor choice.
But his skill was insufficient to execute it properly.
‘What kind of butterfly is that? Fluttering about like that—it’s obviously a sparrow.’
There was no satisfaction in teaching at this level.
‘I need to focus on restoring my own senses first.’
Dang Yoo-hyeon withdrew, his arms crossing.
Whoosh!
Blades spun at devastating speed, etching silver lines through the void.
They moved without tremor, as straight and swift as a blade, their arcs perfectly true—the butterfly’s wings traced dizzy patterns before being fired from both sides.
“Damn!”
Hwang Jeong-cheol, who’d been charging forward, had no choice but to halt and parry the incoming blades.
Ring! Ring!
Yet the blades missed his defense by a subtle margin, grazing his shoulder instead.
“Ugh!”
“Making a fuss over nothing.”
Dang Yoo-hyeon brushed aside the belated return blade with a light flick and clicked his tongue.
“That’s enough playing around. Now let me properly ask for some instruction myself.”
Dang Yoo-hyeon tightened his grip on his blades.
“I’m not certain how long it’ll take myself, so don’t give up too easily.”
Between twisted lips, teeth gleamed brilliant white.
Whiiiiish!
Three Flying Blades shot forward in measured succession.
One from the front. Two from the flanks.
If one had only the strength to endure, blocking the frontal assault would be simple enough—but the remaining two would pierce straight through the torso.
“Quite the troublesome throw, I must say!”
Hwang Jeong-cheol flung a Flying Blade like a fallen leaf, creating a barrier of Blade Energy.
Clang! Clang!
The first two Flying Blades ricocheted off the barrier.
‘But if only one remains, this is child’s play!’
Clang!
Hwang Jeong-cheol swept his arm wide to deflect the blade, but he couldn’t help the tremor that ran through his hand.
His wrist throbbed where he’d struck the blade away.
How much force was required that a single deflection left his body aching?
Whiiish!
Before he could catch his breath, more Flying Blades came screaming in.
“What—!”
Not just one.
Three. Five. Ten.
Flying Blades with varying speeds and rotations poured down in succession.
‘The Chained Ten Blades?’
Yet the visible blades alone numbered well over ten.
“Still have time to count your blades, do you? Feeling leisurely?”
Dang Yoo-hyeon chuckled softly, then began hurling Flying Blades continuously—adding even those Hwang Jeong-cheol had failed to recover.
“Best deflect them quickly, or you’ll be in real trouble.”
“Graaaah!”
Crack.
Hwang Jeong-cheol’s jaw clenched.
Burning with fury, he didn’t bother tending to his wounds but seized a Flying Blade again.
“Even if I’m a newcomer, you shouldn’t take me lightly!”
To all appearances, he was hurling blades back with equal force—perhaps even greater—yet Hwang Jeong-cheol’s Flying Blades no longer flew toward Dang Yoo-hyeon.
Slash! Slash!
Blades without a target made a different sound than before.
Not piercing, but slicing.
Slash! Slaaaaash!
The Falling Flower technique and blades that drew horizontal lines in both directions crisscrossed in succession.
Blade Energy wove thickly, like cloth on a loom, forming the shape of a net.
Clang! Clang!
Incoming Flying Blades struck the pale-green net with clear, ringing tones and bounced away.
But it didn’t end there.
The uneven surface with protruding sections warped the trajectories of the rebounding blades, sending them back toward Dang Yoo-hyeon.
Precisely where dodging or deflecting became necessary.
‘The boy thinks. No wonder he made it into the Black Steel Corps.’
Now this was becoming interesting.
Dang Yoo-hyeon exhaled a faint snort and recovered the returning Flying Blades, hurling them once more.
Whiiish! Clang!
Slaaaaash! Clang-clang!
An unbroken sequence of air-splitting sounds and metallic impacts.
“Half a Double Hour now. Your Internal Energy consumption must be considerable—impressive.”
“Indeed. Were I in your position, I’d have collapsed from exhaustion after a mere Quarter Hour.”
“With Martial Arts at such similar levels, neither of you gives an inch!”
“The young master at the Peak Realm already? Hah. Was he truly a Dormant Dragon?”
Gasps of admiration rippled through the crowd.
Both Dang Yoo-hyeon, who had failed to build a reputation within the family due to past conduct, and Hwang Jeong-cheol, who as a newcomer had been unable to showcase his ambitions and had taken on only menial tasks—for both, this was a moment they had desperately hoped for.
Yet with each exchange, the gap between them widened steadily.
“Haah! Haah!”
“Already exhausted, youngster?”
Unlike Dang Yoo-hyeon, whose breathing remained as controlled as at the start, Hwang Jeong-cheol’s grew ragged.
Constantly pouring out Internal Energy and calculating angles for counterattacks, both body and mind were being pushed beyond their limits.
In the instant when the sparring seemed poised to continue until one of them fell,
Dang Yoo-hyeon murmured softly.
“……That’s enough.”
The sensation he’d lost had returned.
After so long without it, he felt his lips curl upward unbidden.
At that sinister smile, Hwang Jeong-cheol recalled all his Flying Blades and widened the distance between them.
‘What’s this? The atmosphere just……’
“I’ve waited long enough.”
It wasn’t a question.
A murmur to himself—and the prelude to some kind of declaration.
“So let’s end this, shall we?”
Dang Yoo-hyeon placed a Flying Blade upon his palm and infused it with Inner Force.
Whoooooooooosh!
The blade trembled with a terrible, silent pressure that spoke volumes.
This was a different caliber from everything that had come before.
Gulp.
Hwang Jeong-cheol swallowed hard, tension coiling through him, and drew lines anew with his Flying Blades.
Shwish! Shwiiiiish!
Weaving lines into planes.
Layering planes into walls.
The moment he believed the barrier solid, the Flying Blade left Dang Yoo-hyeon’s hand and drifted forward with deliberate slowness.
‘Slow? Could it be……the Dark Explosion Blade!?’
As if to confirm Hwang Jeong-cheol’s judgment, the blade subtly warped the air around it before suddenly spinning faster, churning the atmosphere into a vortex.
Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack!
Dust billowed skyward in the wake of the spinning maelstrom.
Without the shriek of wind to mark its passage, one might have had no warning of the catastrophe bearing down—like the eerie calm before a storm.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
Suddenly, a deafening roar erupted as the Flying Blade shot forward with explosive velocity.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
Where the blade struck the Blade Energy, a shriek so piercing it was almost terrible tore through the air.
‘I can’t stop this!’
Primal fear seized him; the hair on his arms stood on end.
Hwang Jeong-cheol desperately hurled another Flying Blade to reinforce his Blade Energy.
But.
Crack! Shatter!
With the sound of glass breaking, the Flying Blade punched through the barrier and shot toward his face.
Overwhelmed by the speed of it all, Hwang Jeong-cheol made no sound—only collapsed to his knees.
Flutter.
A moment later, the severed hem of his garment drifted down across the Training Grounds.
As the dust settled and Dang Yoo-hyeon’s figure came into view, he turned his gaze from Hwang Jeong-cheol toward Dang Lei and Dang Jong-cheon.
More precisely, toward both of them.
“I learned well from watching, thanks to you.”
Step. Step.
Dang Yoo-hyeon walked over and extended his hand to Hwang Jeong-cheol.
“Come now, get up.”
“……Ah, yes.”
Hwang Jeong-cheol finally came to his senses, scrambled to his feet, and clasped his fists in salute.
“I learned much. Thank you.”
“It was a valuable experience. I hope it proved as instructive for you as it did for me.”
“It was indeed. My gratitude.”
Whether from embarrassment or not, Hwang Jeong-cheol hastily descended from the sparring platform.
Dang Yoo-hyeon leisurely adjusted his clothing and returned to stand beside Dang Jong-cheon.
Though the Black Steel Corps stirred with surprise at the unexpected outcome, Dang Lei remained composed as if he’d known the result all along.
“A truly exceptional Martial Demonstration. It will serve as excellent instruction for all our members, will it not?”
“Y-yes, of course.”
Even Yang Mo-seol, who had watched Dang Yoo-hyeon with displeasure, showed no disagreement with the result—his head nodding grudgingly.
With such a sudden shift in attitude, the reality of the match’s outcome became undeniable.
“Thank you for your generosity.”
Dang Lei smiled faintly, then turned and called out to the Black Steel Corps members.
“The Black Steel Corps will continue with training drills!”
“Yes!”
“Keep an eye on them to make sure they follow through properly.”
“Understood!”
Once the three had left, Dang Lei spoke in a low voice.
“What are your thoughts on the sparring, Elder?”
“Still woefully inadequate.”
Dang Jong-cheon’s harsh judgment was nothing new.
If Dang Yoo-hyeon found fault with someone, he would see only their shortcomings.
“Heh. Yet it seems you care for him quite a bit, Elder.”
How so?
Both Dang Yoo-hyeon and Dang Jong-cheon asked without a flicker of expression.
Dang Lei ignored their gazes and let a slight smile curl his lips.
“Watching the young master’s sparring raised a question in my mind.”
“Go on.”
“What are you after?”
Dang Lei had caught a glimpse of something in Dang Yoo-hyeon.
It was so small a fragment that one would have missed it without careful attention.
Yet it was also something Dang Yoo-hyeon always let show within the family.
And so Dang Yoo-hyeon answered with a faint smile.
“To claim what must be claimed.”
Sichuan Dang Family: A Genius’s Redemption
Author |
Lee Il-young
Publisher |
Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Editor-in-Chief |
Editorial Department
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. – Dream Books
Address |
7th Floor, Gwangseong Building, 28 Bongeunsaro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
UCI |
G720:N+A063-20260615052
Blog |
blog.naver.com/dreambookss
Twitter (X) |
@dreambookss
Submissions |
[email protected]
Without written permission from Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. – Dream Books, the contents of this book may not be used in any form or by any means.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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