Reincarnation of the Cloud Dragon - Chapter 80

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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 80.
“Leader of the Black Dragon Gang, it’s Yun Cheon.”
The air in the Backyard froze in an instant.
“The one who held that inauguration ceremony…? I took him for nothing but a greenhorn, yet he possesses considerable skill.”
For the first time, caution tinged Jeon Man Ho’s voice.
A single droplet of blood that had dripped from the back of his hand froze white before it could touch the ground. Though it was merely a glancing strike, the yin-cold energy lingering at the wound’s edge was gnawing away at his Sura blood essence bit by bit.
‘He pierced through my Sura blood essence and opened a wound…? A youth so young?’
The Black Dragon Gang leader before me was of an entirely different caliber from Jin So Wol, whom I had faced moments before.
Yun Cheon turned his body at an angle instead of answering.
His eyes first swept across the blood seeping from Jin So Wol’s shoulder and the cracked spear shaft.
“Your internal injuries appear severe.”
Yun Cheon withdrew a small jade vial from his robes and tossed it.
“It’s an internal injury remedy made by the Demonic Physician. Swallow it and immediately circulate your energy to recover.”
Jin So Wol caught the vial reflexively.
“But….”
“You’ve done your part.”
Yun Cheon’s voice was calm and measured.
“From here on, it’s my turn. Step back.”
The moment those words left his lips, Jeon Man Ho roared.
“How dare this whelp show such composure before me!”
Kuguguung—!
A crimson energy surged upward from both his palms like a tidal wave.
Blood Sea Collapsing Palm.
The tremendous palm force Jeon Man Ho unleashed came crashing down at the back of Yun Cheon’s head.
Yet Yun Cheon didn’t even turn his head.
Chiang—!
Without withdrawing the hand that had thrown the vial, his other hand drew the blade in a perfect arc. Azure cold energy flickered thinly, slicing the crimson palm strike with absolute precision.
Pwaang!
The severed palm force swept across the ground, scattering stone dust and building debris.
Its power remained undiminished.
Yet not a speck of dust clung to Yun Cheon’s robes.
“…Impossible.”
Jin So Wol’s eyes widened in shock.
That immense violence she had exhausted herself deflecting, Yun Cheon had brushed aside as casually as swatting an annoying fly.
‘…My presence here would only hinder the Leader.’
After a moment’s hesitation, she gritted her teeth and retreated. She uncorked the jade vial, swallowed the internal injury remedy, and withdrew to a distance before kneeling and beginning her energy circulation recovery.
At that moment, two more shadows descended beyond the rear wall.
It was Yalü Hee.
Her gaze fixed first upon the blood seeping from Jin So Wol’s shoulder.
“…You look absolutely wretched.”
Yalü Hee glanced briefly at the crack running through Jin So Wol’s spear shaft, then quietly released her grip on the blade.
“You held on well. Leave the rest to us.”
Yu Ha stepped forward immediately.
“Though we’ve only just met, we shall stand guard here. Miss, do not worry—tend to your wounds first.”
Jin So Wol’s eyes wavered for a moment. She had countless questions, but Yu Ha shook his head lightly.
“Curiosity can wait. Recovery comes first.”
Jeon Man Ho’s brow twitched.
“How carefree you lot are. Did you think I would simply stand idle?”
Kugugugung—!
Crimson spear energy erupted in succession.
One streak, two streaks, three streaks.
The scarlet energy lashing down embroidered the empty air.
True to its name, the Blood Sea Rupturing Palm sent waves of crimson energy surging forward.
Yet Yun Cheon walked into that tempest without hesitation.
The energy aimed at his face, he sidestepped and let it pass.
The energy pressing down on his ribs, he severed its pattern with a mere flick of his blade.
That alone was enough to split, twist, and scatter the crimson energy filling the void.
Yun Cheon came to a slow halt amid the dispersing scarlet remnants, his gaze settling calmly upon Jeon Man Ho.
The shape of the palm strike.
The angle of extension.
The pattern of inner force being channeled.
…And layered atop all of it, a subtle misalignment.
Yun Cheon’s eyes grew cold and sharp. Then, slowly, he spoke.
“…You possess considerable inner strength. That is all.”
Jeon Man Ho’s brow twitched.
“What?”
“Your shoulder moves first every time you extend your palm. You are not channeling inner force—you are pushing it outward. Your waist lacks stability, and your footwork is misaligned.”
Yun Cheon lowered his blade at an angle.
“That one possessing such inner strength could be so clumsy—it is remarkable.”
“…You.”
Jeon Man Ho’s face hardened.
“The power accumulated in that body is not truly yours, is it?”
The air froze. Jeon Man Ho’s single eye trembled violently. What Yun Cheon had just spoken was no mere provocation. It was an observation only one who had thoroughly examined his martial arts could make.
“…What do you know!”
Crimson inner force swelled once more in Jeon Man Ho’s palm. But this time, agitation was woven through it.
“I know for certain that you have not properly mastered your martial arts. Did you think you could bury insufficient understanding beneath sheer inner strength?”
“I was never born with talent. Unable to cultivate naturally, I scraped together what I could. Forbidden techniques, vital points, anything—I swallowed it all to reach this point. What of it!”
It was a confession born from his own lips. Yet the tone was steeped in the deep shadow of long-harbored inferiority. Yun Cheon tilted his head slightly.
“That is precisely why it is all the more ugly.”
The tip of the blade descended slowly.
“If I can only grow stronger, I’ll take anything… Is that the principle of Respect for the Strong that you’ve learned?”
“Yes! Isn’t that the doctrine of our sect!”
“No, you’re wrong. Respect for the Strong doesn’t mean that the powerful are worthy of reverence.”
“…What?”
“It’s not shameful to be born without strength. Every master was born weak. That’s why those who face their own weakness and grow stronger become truly worthy of respect.”
My gaze swept across Jeon Man Ho’s disheveled form.
“You’ve never faced your own weakness. You’re nothing but a leech, sucking the blood of others.”
A long silence fell.
A scratching sound came from Jeon Man Ho’s throat.
“…Shut up.”
It sounded less like a shout and more like words meant for himself.
“Shut up… I said shut up!”
Jeon Man Ho launched his body forward.
This time, it didn’t end with pouring out his martial force. He threw his massive frame directly, driving both his blood-red spear technique and his heavy body forward at once.
Even he could feel that he couldn’t win through martial skill alone.
My form vanished.
Jeon Man Ho twisted his body too late.
Splurch—!
Blood sprayed long alongside a strip of his robe. Jeon Man Ho staggered backward. Because he’d managed to twist away at the last moment, the wound wasn’t deep, but it was enough.
“Ugh…!”
Even though the Sura Blood Energy enveloping his entire body stood like a shield, my blade pierced through it far too easily.
Jin So Wol, treating her internal injuries from a distance, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight.
‘…The Sect Leader is in a different league.’
At first, she had been overwhelmed by the vast inner energy, but Yun Cheon was different.
No matter how much power was contained in an attack, it was useless if one refused to meet it head-on.
Sometimes fluid, sometimes gentle, yet sharp at the decisive moment.
The subtle principles of the spear technique that she’d grasped for a fleeting instant flowed naturally through Yun Cheon’s swordsmanship at every moment.
It wasn’t simply strong—it was elegant and dignified.
‘That is true martial arts….’
In contrast, Jeon Man Ho’s spear technique only radiated overwhelming force.
The principles of martial arts were nowhere to be found.
Only crude and brutal flailing, pouring out strength.
“This can’t be…!”
For the first time, an unfamiliar emotion flickered across Jeon Man Ho’s single eye.
It wasn’t anger or arrogance. It was the eye of one whose faith was crumbling.
His inner self was beginning to doubt the teachings of the Sura Blood Sect.
“How much effort did I pour into building this inner energy…! And yet it crumbles so pathetically against that bastard’s blade!”
That was when it happened.
A bizarre light flickered across Jeon Man Ho’s single eye.
Rage and fear, and beneath them something far more sinister.
Not faith or conviction, but mere obstinacy.
“No… I cannot accept this!”
Jeon Man Ho’s voice twisted with desperation.
“How… how did I come all this way only to…!”
Kugugugung—!
With that, Sura Blood Qi writhed grotesquely across Jeon Man Ho’s entire body.
‘If I cannot win through direct confrontation…!’
Victory as a martial artist had long ceased to matter to him. All that remained was the primal instinct to shake that arrogant bastard before him by any means necessary.
Swish.
Jeon Man Ho’s crimson spear force seemed to extend toward Yun Cheon once more. But it was a feint. His true gaze was fixed on Jin So Wol behind them, still in the midst of cultivation.
Shriaaak—!
Between the shrieks of the spear force, a faint, muted sound of air being torn asunder cut through the void.
Five blood needles, coated in Sura Blood Qi, surged toward Jin So Wol.
Yun Cheon’s eyes narrowed. He too saw the trajectory of the needles, yet he did not move. He had those he could trust to guard his back.
Clang clang—!
Whoosh.
Just before the blood needles reached Jin So Wol, two shadows crossed on either side of her.
Jin So Wol’s eyebrows twitched once during her cultivation. She sensed the disturbance but did not open her eyes.
‘If I felt it, those two standing guard could not possibly have missed it….’
Yalü Hee’s blade carved a smooth arc through the air, lightly flicking away two of the blood needles. Simultaneously, Yu Ha’s folded fan gently ensnared the remaining three needles and let them drift harmlessly to the ground.
“How pathetic. Worse than pathetic—it’s repulsive. Never again speak the word ‘martial artist’ with that mouth of yours.”
“Right to the end, nothing but rat-like tricks.”
Yu Ha and Yalü Hee fixed Jeon Man Ho with cold, piercing stares.
“Kugh…!”
As even his final gambit was blocked, Jeon Man Ho’s complexion turned ashen.
With his last desperate strike so easily thwarted, he could not conjure a next move in that instant.
And that single moment was all that was needed.
‘Now!’
Yun Cheon’s form melted into the oblique angle of Jeon Man Ho’s stance.
Jeon Man Ho, sensing the danger too late, twisted his body—but it was already too late.
Yun Cheon’s blade light severed the blood meridian flowing from his left shoulder to his elbow.
Crunch—. Gaaahhh—!
From the severed edge, blood erupted along with Sura Blood Qi condensed like crimson mist.
The severed forearm convulsed upon the earthen ground.
“Kraaaahhh!”
A dark crimson aura poured ceaselessly from the wound—as if poison long contained had suddenly burst forth all at once.
Jeon Man Ho’s single eye trembled violently.
“Still… it is not over! How much power have I accumulated…! Just one arm severed—!”
But his words could not continue to their end.
Whoosh, crackle—!
A grotesque cracking sound echoed from within Jeon Man Ho’s body.
Bones twisted and muscles convulsed. The veins at his nape and temples bulged a sickly blue, while crimson blood vessels writhed like worms beneath his chest, crawling upward.
“Gack…! Kuh-ack…!”
Crimson blood erupted from Jeon Man Ho’s mouth. He had forcibly drawn upon his inner power beyond its limits. Worse still, his emotions spiraled into chaos, and his control over his vital energy shattered completely.
The alien turbid qi he had stolen from countless sacrifices reversed its flow, tearing through his meridians.
Qi deviation—a martial artist’s descent into madness.
Jeon Man Ho’s lips trembled violently.
“Why… why won’t it obey me…?!”
It was no longer a cry directed at his opponent. It was a scream against his own body. Yun Cheon gazed down at him calmly.
“…It was never yours to begin with, so of course it won’t listen.”
Jeon Man Ho’s single eye, bloodshot with fury, glared at Yun Cheon. Yet the light in that eye held no more rage—only the primal terror of a beast watching its body collapse from within. Yun Cheon advanced with measured steps.
“Let me end this.”
Yun Cheon’s first technique extended forward.
Right-hand blade strike.
*Shing—!*
The blade light severed the rampaging Sura Blood Sect energy horizontally. The crimson aura that had been surging from Jeon Man Ho’s body scattered in an instant.
“Kuh-ack…!”
As his vital energy dispersed, Yun Cheon’s second technique pierced into Jeon Man Ho’s core.
Left-hand sword strike.
*Thud, thud!*
A merciless thrust.
The cold blade tip buried itself in Jeon Man Ho’s lower abdomen.
*Crack—.*
Something deep within his lower abdomen shattered into pieces.
“Kuh-aaaack…!”
It was the sound of the dantian—the vessel of inner power that Jeon Man Ho had so carefully cultivated—shattering completely.
Dantian destruction. A sentence worse than death—the perfect execution of a martial artist’s existence.
“Death is too merciful for you.”
Yun Cheon looked down at Jeon Man Ho convulsing at his feet as one might regard a beast.
“You will live to pay for your sins.”
“Kuh-uh-uh….”
Only the pitiful groans of a man who had lost everything echoed softly.
Yalü Hee quietly sheathed her blade.
Yu Ha folded his fan without a word.
No one spared another glance at Jeon Man Ho.
Then, rough footsteps sounded from the open doorway of the Backyard.
“Yun Cheon… you’ve arrived in time.”
It was Sa Hae Ryong, drenched in blood, supported by Woo Baek Hyeon.
Sa Hae Ryong’s gaze fell upon Jeon Man Ho sprawled on the ground.
“To leave him alive rather than grant him death—truly the judgment of a lord. This beast deserves no mercy in its final moments.”
A sharp, exhilarating smile spread across his lips—tinged with the metallic taste of blood.
“At the inauguration… I’ll be honest, I had no intention of following. Now, things are different.”
Sa Hae Ryong knelt before Yun Cheon.
“We of the Iron Shark Gang reflect upon our past transgressions and shall henceforth follow the Black Dragon Gang under your leadership, Yun Cheon.”
Sa Hae Ryong gestured to Woo Baek Hyeon, who withdrew from his robes a blackened ledger and a blood-stained wooden tablet, presenting them to Yun Cheon.
“The true account books of the Jinguan Pavilion, extracted from Jeon Man Ho’s secret chamber. Tch—he sent so many children to various places… To think the Iron Shark Gang was played by such a wretch.”
Two characters carved into the wooden tablet, rendered in vivid crimson.
Blood Sovereign.
At the ledger’s end lay the destination of all sacrifices—the master of that place and the Grand Demon Lord of the Demonic Cult’s main stronghold.
‘…One of the Five Sovereigns of the Demonic Cult.’
The scent of blood drifted toward Tianshan.

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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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