Reincarnation of the Cloud Dragon - Chapter 36

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This chapter is translated by Falnar Novels Team.
Support us by reading on our official site: https://falnarnovels.com
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Chapter 36.
A sealed chamber in the corner of the Demonic Physician Hall, cut off from the outside world.
Yun Cheon sat alone in absolute darkness, having entered closed-door cultivation.
Despite the profound silence, cold sweat streamed down his forehead like rain.
Uuuummm—.
A harsh vibration resonated endlessly from deep within his lower abdomen.
Too unstable to call a dantian, yet too small to call a typhoon.
‘…It’s crude. I need to stabilize the incantations and the flow more.’
Yun Cheon diagnosed his condition with cold clarity.
Last night, I had hastily constructed a ‘rotating dantian’ to withstand Seol Young’s yin-cold energy.
It was merely a desperate measure chosen to suppress the rampaging yin-cold energy.
‘It’s no different from hastily building a dam to hold back a flood.’
I had forcibly rotated and bound the yin-cold energy, but the flow was so rough that it threatened to scatter at any moment.
‘If I use my inner strength in this state, the energy will run wild and burst my blood vessels.’
That was why I had abandoned everything and entered closed-door cultivation.
To harden the dam that would surely crumble if left alone into a solid fortress.
However, it was far from easy in practice.
What, after all, is an inner strength cultivation method?
It is a path carved out over at least tens of years, or even hundreds of years or more, as countless predecessors coughed blood and fell into demonic cultivation, refining it through trial and error.
The crystallization of accumulated experience and enlightenment across ages.
Just as the ancient tale of Yu Gong Moving Mountains speaks of an old fool moving a mountain through sheer persistence, establishing a sect’s inner strength cultivation method requires eons of time.
‘Yet I must establish it alone, right now.’
It was madness.
But Yun Cheon had no time.
I drew forth the countless fragments of martial arts scattered throughout my mind.
‘Kunlun’s Taiqing Divine Art is clear and flowing. It would be difficult to contain this savage yin-cold energy….’
It was the most familiar garment, but it did not fit my current body.
Yet directly learning Seol Young’s Bingbai Divine Art would, as it had for Seol Young in the past, worsen the severed meridian syndrome.
‘Then… I must blend them.’
Fortunately, I had several paths already laid out by countless predecessors.
Kunlun’s inner strength cultivation, refined over a thousand years, formed the foundation of my being.
Added to it was the Life-Sustaining Breathing Technique I had created while struggling to survive.
The Heaven-Earth Mutual Art I had obtained by fortune in the Martial Arts Archive.
And finally, the Bingbai Divine Art whose incantations Seol Young had transmitted to me.
‘Each one is worthy of being called a supreme divine art.’
Yet pearls mean nothing unless they are strung together.
‘As the ancients said, “To string pearls is to make treasure.”‘
I established Kunlun’s Daoist cultivation method as the foundation.
I would govern the savage yin-cold energy through the mysteries of the Bingbai Divine Art, and draw inspiration from the Heaven-Earth Mutual Art for the unceasing flow.
Finally, I took the Life-Sustaining Breathing Technique I had created myself as the vessel to embrace this unprecedented dantian.
The subtle principle of stillness within movement.
‘Within motion lies tranquility.’
Not a stagnant lake, but an endless torrent of rapids confined within the body.
Bone-shattering agony and soul-clarifying ecstasy erupted simultaneously as the scattered fragments of my martial arts began fusing into one.
Crack. Snap.
Strange cries of distress burst from every joint in my body.
The anguish of twisting convention and carving a new path—my energy tangled hundreds of times, my meridians nearly blocked thousands of times.
Each moment, I barely crossed the threshold of death using experience from my past life and instinctive genius.
How much time had passed?
Suddenly, a flash of electricity surged along my spine.
The violent inner tempest that had raged so wildly subsided as if by illusion.
It had not vanished.
‘Finally, I’ve settled the Yin-Cold Energy into a stable orbit.’
It had begun rotating in such a perfectly precise orbit that it appeared motionless and serene instead.
Like the eye of a hurricane.
‘…It is done.’
I opened my eyes slowly.
A cool jade radiance flickered in the depths of my pupils before fading.
‘…The harmony of the Limitless Principle and the Frozen Heart.’
As the euphoria of enlightenment subsided, I rose slowly and opened the door.
Beyond the threshold, Saengsa Jjon and Seol Young waited with expressions of concern.
The moment they saw me emerge from the Demonic Physician Hall after completing my closed cultivation, both of them started in surprise.
“…Your aura?”
Seol Young’s eyes widened.
My energy, which had seemed precarious mere days ago, had transformed completely.
The sharp, piercing cold had vanished, replaced by a serene yet frigid presence that enveloped me like a deep lake.
“Before, you were merely suppressing the Yin-Cold Energy forcefully… but now your energy is perfectly refined.”
Saengsa Jjon could not contain his admiration either. I nodded lightly and reached toward the teacup on the table.
“I achieved enlightenment. For now… it appears to be a success.”
A shimmer.
A haze-like energy bloomed from my fingertips.
The water in the teacup began rotating fiercely around its center.
Whirrrrr—!
A small vortex formed within the cup, then solidified in that exact shape in an instant.
A swirling pillar of ice.
A peculiar form frozen in a state of motion rather than stillness.
“…!”
Saengsa Jjon picked up the teacup in shock.
“This is no mere ice technique. It contains both rotational force and cohesive power simultaneously… for someone who’s only been wielding Yin-Cold Energy for mere days to possess this level of mastery!”
Seol Young’s pupils trembled faintly as she observed from the side.
A shudder ran through me—the thrill of witnessing something that transcended even my family’s secret technique, the Glacial White Divine Art.
“It’s unbelievable. My Glacial White Divine Art is also a yin-cold technique, yet the flow is entirely different.”
Seol Young stared at the whirlpool within the teacup, her eyes trembling with awe.
This could no longer be called the Glacial White Divine Art.
“I cannot even fathom the secret formula… what is the name of this cultivation method?”
Yun Cheon answered Seol Young’s question with composure.
“I drew inspiration from the Glacial White Divine Art that you taught me. I have named it the Limitless Glacial Heart Technique.”
Even Saengsa Jjon nodded in acknowledgment.
“Indeed. A most fitting name. You have captured the yin-cold essence through endless rotation.”
He maintained an outward appearance of calm, yet inwardly he could not suppress his astonishment.
‘Not yet of age, and he has already established an independent cultivation method?’
Saengsa Jjon’s eyes grew distant and profound.
‘Inspiration is one thing, but to manifest it into reality—that is an entirely different dimension. This is no mere talent. This is the vessel of a future Sect Master who will establish his own legacy!’
Seol Young’s eyes blazed with intensity.
It was more than mere admiration.
“Senior… would you spar with me?”
The competitive spirit of a martial artist—the desire to test herself against such strength—had awakened within her.
Yun Cheon smiled at her request.
She was the perfect opponent to test his newfound power.
“Of course. I myself need to refine the technique further through practical application of the Limitless Glacial Heart Technique.”
Saengsa Jjon stroked his beard with evident interest.
“Wait a moment. Both of your meridian injuries have stabilized, so a sparring match should prove beneficial to you both, provided it is not excessive. However, before that…”
Saengsa Jjon’s expression turned grave.
“There is something I must tell you both.”
* * *
At that same moment, at the main gate of the Demonic Sect.
The gatekeepers blocking the entrance crossed their spears, barring the path of a muscular man whose breathing came in ragged gasps.
“Stop! This place is forbidden to outsiders!”
The burly man carried a massive black-iron hammer in one hand and a bundle as large as his own torso strapped across his back.
His appearance was crude and rough, yet the heat radiating from him made the very air shimmer like a mirage.
“Outsider? I’m a guest, can’t you tell just by looking?”
The man irritably produced a palm-sized crimson token from his waist and thrust it before the gatekeeper’s nose.
A Flame Token—inscribed with blazing fire patterns.
The gatekeepers’ eyes widened in shock.
“A… a Flame Token! Are you a disciple of one of the Venerables!”
This was far different in rank from the black-iron token that Yun Cheon had once presented—the one belonging to the Chief Instructor.
Within the sect, the status of the Five Venerables surpassed even that of Gal Mu Heun, the Sect Master.
“Move aside. It’s hot.”
The man spoke with casual indifference.
Though Gal Mu Heun’s policy within the Demonic Sect encouraged internal competition, none would dare raise a spear against a disciple of one of the Venerables.
One of the gatekeepers, a squad leader of considerable skill, mustered his courage and asked.
“Forgive our rudeness! But… might we inquire as to your destination?”
The man let out a snort of laughter at their stammering hesitation.
“Tsk, soft as rust, the lot of you. Tails tucked between your legs. My destination? Where else would Saengsa Jjon be?”
“That… we find ourselves unable to guide you there. First, we require the Demonic Sect Leader’s permission…”
“Ah, what a bother. Fine, fine. Where is the Sect Leader’s office?”
The man’s stride was unhindered.
Gong Ya Pae.
A disciple of Yeom Hwa Jjon and a master craftsman who worked with fire and metal, he headed straight for the Demonic Sect Leader’s office.
Even as a disciple of a Jjon, it would be discourteous to disregard Gal Mu Heun, the true master of the Demonic Sect, unless one were the Jjon himself.
Moments later.
A hearty voice resonated through Gal Mu Heun’s office.
“It has been too long, Sect Leader!”
Gong Ya Pae offered a salute—casual yet respectful, never crossing the line.
“…Did Yeom Hwa Jjon send you?”
“Yes, I have come to meet with Saengsa Jjon.”
Gal Mu Heun, the office’s master, set down his brush and inquired.
His gaze lingered on the enormous hammer suspended across Gong Ya Pae’s back.
Too crude to be called a weapon, too grotesque to be called a tool.
“Is that all your business?”
“As it happens, I heard the Sect Leader has taken on a promising disciple, so I thought I’d see his face. If he proves worthy, perhaps we might share a drink.”
Gal Mu Heun chuckled softly.
Yeom Hwa Jjon—a man of fiery temperament.
If his disciple had come of his own accord to assess whether this promising one was truly capable, the outcome was predictable.
‘So he heard the rumor that Saengsa Jjon has become Yun Cheon’s patron. His disciple shares that same fiery nature…’
Gal Mu Heun made no move to stop him.
Yun Cheon was, after all, one I had selected as a library keeper.
“The Demonic Sect welcomes the strong. With mutual consent, you are free to spar with whomever you wish.”
“As expected, Sect Leader, you understand. My gratitude.”
For Gal Mu Heun, this was an intriguing spectacle.
‘I wonder—can Yun Cheon hold his own against Gong Ya Pae?’
With permission granted, Gong Ya Pae departed without hesitation.
Now officially sanctioned, Gong Ya Pae whistled as he strolled through the Demonic Sect’s corridors.
Crossing the Training Ground, he surveyed the disciples at their practice with an expression of boredom.
“Hmm…”
His gaze swept across the disciples training in the Training Ground.
“Weak.”
All that met his eyes was disappointment.
“Nothing but weaklings here. They couldn’t handle metalwork, let alone lift my hammer.”
As he passed, the disciples murmured among themselves.
“That attire… is he a disciple of Yeom Hwa Jjon?”
“What’s that on his back? A hammer?”
Ignoring the whispers of the trainees, Gong Ya Pae pressed forward toward the deepest sanctum of the Demonic Sect—the Demonic Physician Hall.
His eyes blazed with anticipation.
‘The one Saengsa Jjon vouched for. I hope he’s worth something. Strong enough to withstand my flames…’

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This chapter is translated by Falnar Novels Team.
Support us by reading on our official site: https://falnarnovels.com
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