Reincarnation of the Cloud Dragon - Chapter 90

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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 90.
Han Seo Baek was different from Jin Mu Ryang.
Even his sword stance was impeccable.
Left foot forward half a step, right foot back. His shoulders remained relaxed, and the blade’s tip didn’t tremble needlessly. He angled the sword diagonally before his eyes, then exhaled once to center himself.
It was a stance that approached classical form.
Unlike Jin Mu Ryang, he didn’t reach out hastily, nor did he let emotion lead.
The exact posture a noble heir would have drilled a hundred, a thousand times since childhood.
Meanwhile, Kang Hui simply let the Blood Claw hang downward, his gaze fixed only on the tip of his opponent’s blade.
A relaxed stance that seemed utterly unprepared.
“He won’t even match my sword stance… Arrogant to the end.”
Han Seo Baek’s eyes narrowed.
“Sword stance? Never learned such a thing.”
The long sword and the Blood Claw.
Han Seo Baek moved first.
The blade’s tip trembled low, then shot forward.
A straight line. The sword point aimed precisely at Kang Hui’s throat.
The thrust was clean and controlled, his legs following through as his body moved as one unified line.
A refined sword technique. Which made it all the more readable.
‘Too straightforward.’
Rather than retreat, Kang Hui stepped forward half a pace instead.
“…!”
The blade’s tip sliced through empty air an inch before his neck.
In the instant the sword grazed his chin.
Kang Hui had already driven his shoulder into Han Seo Baek’s chest.
Han Seo Baek’s pupils dilated sharply. He lost distance without even a chance to recover his blade.
“Wha—”
The moment Han Seo Baek’s eyes widened, Kang Hui’s shoulder rammed directly into his chest.
Crash.
A short, dull collision echoed across the Training Ground.
Iron Mountain Shoulder Charge.
A crude but devastatingly practical technique—driving one’s entire body weight forward as a single mass.
Not the sort of move taught in a noble family’s training hall.
“Gasp…!”
Han Seo Baek’s breath was knocked from him in an instant. In a single move, his center of balance shattered.
His body lurched backward, and naturally, his grip on the sword weakened.
Kang Hui seized the opening without hesitation.
The Blood Claw swept upward from below, striking the blade.
Clang—!
The sword flew from Han Seo Baek’s hand.
The long sword spun half a rotation through the air before embedding itself diagonally in the dirt outside the Training Ground.
The blade gleamed as it caught the sunlight.
Not a single drop of blood had been spilled, yet the victor was unmistakable.
Han Seo Baek stood barely upright, one knee buckled beneath him.
‘Ugh… such humiliation….’
His face turned ashen as his hand clenched against his chest.
As a swordsman, I had drawn my blade only to be subdued in a single exchange.
I had hoped to lose with dignity, at least more so than Jin Mu Ryang, but it was merely a vain wish.
Faced with an unconventional, brutally practical technique, I had shamefully dropped my sword.
Even ten mouths could not find words to speak.
“…I have lost.”
Han Seo Baek forced himself upright, barely managing to utter the words.
My fingers trembled faintly as I stepped toward the blade embedded in the earth.
The area outside the Training Ground fell suddenly silent.
“…Han Seo Baek as well?”
Someone muttered softly.
That sparked a torrent of commentary.
“He subdued him in a single move despite drawing his blade…?”
“And against a Cheolryeong Han Family sword at that….”
“Kang Hui… his ranking in the Feng Yun Ranking was no accident.”
“Then… what level of skill does the Black Dragon Gang master possess, having defeated someone like Kang Hui…?”
Whispers spread through the crowd.
Yeon Ha Ran nearly leaped with joy where she stood.
“He won! Sister Yalü, Brother Kang won!”
Yalü Hee twisted her lips while folding her arms.
“I told you to wait and see.”
Jin Mu Ryang, who had lost first, found himself lowering his head without realizing it.
Han Seo Baek, who had witnessed what I suffered and stepped forward fully prepared, had also crumbled.
My wrists still tingled. My face burned crimson.
‘Damn it… I stepped forward so carelessly and made a fool of myself….’
Two martial artists of renown had belatedly grasped the weight of bearing a name in the jianghu.
The man wearing a scabbard marked with the Pae Roe Ul Ji Family crest twisted his lips.
“Ho.”
That single syllable carried far more evident interest than before.
A giant standing some distance away, who had planted a heavy iron staff upright, also laughed lowly with his arms crossed.
“Quite impressive.”
The gazes of the three did not turn toward Han Seo Baek or Kang Hui, the actual combatants.
They were fixed upon Yun Cheon, who reclined obliquely against the railing with a teacup tilted in his hand.
The Pae Roe Ul Ji Family man spoke lowly to his companions beside him.
“…If the Feng Yun Ranking’s ninetieth position is at that level, we cannot regard their master any lower.”
“I concur. The Black Dragon Gang… was there such a force in Qinghai?”
“I thought there were only mediocre faces here….”
“The main stage of the Martial Tournament won’t be boring after all.”
A woman’s laughter drifted softly from beyond the curtain.
“Only now do you see? I’ve had my eyes on that man alone from the very beginning.”
Yet the two men didn’t even turn their heads toward her.
They seemed cautious about even exchanging words with her.
No Ja Gyeom and Bong Chu Un were also watching the scene from the shadows beneath the railing.
They had orchestrated the spectacle themselves, but as it unfolded far grander than anticipated, their expressions darkened. Bong Chu Un ground his teeth slightly and muttered.
“Tsk… that wanderer is stronger than I expected.”
No Ja Gyeom said nothing in reply, merely narrowing his eyes.
His gaze upon Kang Hui was heavy, but heavier still was the look he cast upon Yun Cheon standing behind him.
“The problem might not be that one….”
“What?”
“His master… his strength is impossible to gauge….”
Bong Chu Un fell silent.
“…Damn it. How are we supposed to humble those bastards like this….”
Before the sun had fully set, a servant walked respectfully into the Outer Hall’s corridor.
“The Family Lord will soon host a welcoming banquet. All guests in the Outer Hall are commanded to attend. Please proceed to the Grand Banquet Hall once you are ready.”
With those words, the murmur in the Outer Hall shifted direction.
“A welcoming banquet?”
“Already?”
“We’re to meet the Guangfeng Yalü Family Lord?”
Yun Cheon set down his teacup and spoke.
“Let’s head out as well.”
With that single gesture, the footsteps of the entire party naturally fell into sync.
* * *
The Grand Banquet Hall.
A soaring ceiling. Crimson lanterns. Deep scarlet curtains hung along the walls. The emblem of the Guangfeng Yalü Family was etched at the edges, revealing that this place lay at the very heart of their domain.
Dozens of broad circular tables were spread across the center.
Yeon Ha Ran gasped in admiration.
“Wow…! The Grand Banquet Hall, they said… it really is spacious!”
Meanwhile, Yeon So Ran’s eyes slowly swept across the tables. Each bore the insignia of a clan or sect.
‘This is… deliberately arranged seating.’
At the circular table closest to the seat of honor, the names of the Twelve Orthodox Families were placed first. The Pae Roe Ul Ji Family, the Cham Wol Dok Go Family, the Pa Gun Sa Ma Family.
Beyond that, the influential martial families of the north, then the mid-tier clans, and finally the outermost ring.
At the seats with their backs to the wall lay the insignias of the Black Dragon Gang, the Yeon Family, and the Cheongrim Yeop Family.
It was blatant.
“…We’re positioned farther out than I expected.”
Yeop Cheong A confirmed her seat and murmured quietly.
Yeon Ha Ran pouted her lips.
“Is it truly over just like that?”
Kang Hui let out a scoff.
“Well, there’s no one behind us, so at least we won’t get stabbed in the back.”
Yun Cheon sat down with an unmoved expression.
“The Martial Arts Tournament hasn’t even begun yet.”
After all, the seating arrangement merely reflected the current hierarchy.
Yalü Hee naturally took the seat beside Yun Cheon and responded.
“The Patriarch is right. The seating can change as much as needed depending on the tournament results. I can vouch for that.”
In that instant, gazes wavered at several nearby tables.
The daughter of the Guangfeng Yalü Family had taken a seat at the Black Dragon Gang table instead of her own family’s side.
That single scene alone sent silent ripples through the hall. Yeon So Ran did not miss even that subtle tremor.
Where people looked, which expressions lost their smiles, who gazed at Yalü Hee and who at Yun Cheon—this gathering was not a dinner, but a hierarchy chart.
“Sister Yalü… are you truly certain you don’t need to go?”
“My place is here.”
Moments later, the servants along the edges of the banquet hall moved in unison.
The attendants pouring wine beneath the lanterns withdrew, and the musicians’ fingers gradually stilled.
As the music ceased, the murmur of voices subsided.
Beyond the crimson curtain, a middle-aged man in black robes walked in.
The Patriarch of the Guangfeng Yalü Family, Yalü Jin.
Suspended from his back was a massive saber—the very symbol of the Guangfeng Yalü Family.
With each step Yalü Jin took, the noise in the banquet hall settled layer by layer.
By the time the Patriarch drew near the seat of honor, even the faintest sound had vanished, leaving an almost eerie silence.
The Patriarch’s steps halted at the seat of honor.
Standing there, Yalü Jin surveyed the entire banquet hall in a slow circle.
‘…Half a step away from Venerable rank. No—one foot is already planted there.’
Yalü Jin first observed the proper courtesy.
“I offer my gratitude to the honored guests who have traveled far to visit our ancestral home.”
A single sentence laden with power.
Though he did not appear to raise his voice, that sound resonated through the entire banquet hall with a ringing clarity.
‘…The Lion’s Roar. Even restrained like that, this is the extent of it.’
The sensation of the air itself pressing downward all at once.
That weight transmitted through every fiber of my being.
Yalü Hee’s shoulders rose once, then settled.
It was the response of one whose body remembered the air of this house. The moment the Lion’s Roar sounded, she reflexively held her breath and sank her inner energy into her core. From childhood, how many times had she sat pinned down by this inner power in this very hall—that sensation remained etched into her body.
‘…Still the same. Or perhaps even deeper now.’
Yalü Jin raised his cup and offered wine to his guests.
“Welcome to the Guangfeng Yalü Family!”
Paradoxically, only after the Patriarch’s words of welcome did that oppressive weight vanish as if washed away.
The musicians’ fingers began plucking the strings once more. The music of the banquet flowed forth again.
Wine circulated, and laughter spread from table to table. Everyone seemed to surrender themselves to the rhythm of the celebration.
“Entertaining, isn’t it? This family has always been like this.”
Yalü Hee tilted her cup and spoke softly.
“…Indeed. I find myself anticipating the true martial exhibition.”
The sparring in the Outer Hall had been merely a warm-up.
The real martial exhibition was only beginning now.
* * *
As the gathering ripened and the boisterous banquet continued deep into the night, a moment came when Yalü Jin at the head table set down his cup.
Thud—.
A wave of heavy inner force rippled outward from the table where Yalü Jin sat.
At that small gesture, the murmur of the banquet hall gradually ceased.
The elders of the Twelve Orthodox Families set down their cups first, and naturally all eyes in the hall turned toward the head table.
Yalü Jin spoke again.
“I intend to conclude tonight’s banquet here. We must proceed with the martial exhibition starting tomorrow morning.”
A brief statement marking the end of the gathering.
Yet what followed pressed the atmosphere of the hall down further.
“Those wishing to participate in the martial exhibition should come to the Grand Martial Arena tomorrow morning.”
The family head’s gaze swept across the banquet hall once.
“I, Yalü Jin, shall personally evaluate the promising talents of the various families and sects.”
A single brief sentence weighed upon the assembly once more.
A gathering where the family head of the Twelve Orthodox Families would personally assess martial prowess.
To receive a proper evaluation from him would open the path to advancement within the central hierarchy. It was a rare opportunity.
The sound of young people catching their breath leaked out from all corners.
“The family head himself…?”
“He will offer his assessment?”
“I suspected as much… but this is indeed an opportunity.”
The family head raised his cup again.
“Then, let us conclude tonight’s banquet with this. Promising talents—tomorrow, display your martial arts without regret.”
The assembly raised their cups in unison in response.
The final toast marking the end of the banquet was brief and solemn.
It was as Yalü Jin rose from his seat.
Yalü Cheok, standing beside him, quietly gestured toward the Black Dragon Gang’s table.
The family head’s gaze slowly followed the direction of his eldest son’s fingertip.
“….”
For a brief moment, their eyes met in the void.
Yun Cheon did not avert his gaze.
The corners of the family head’s mouth moved subtly. It was too faint to be called a smile, yet too defined to be called expressionless—a tremor of something in between.
Then, slowly, his gaze withdrew.
Only then did Yalü Jin rise from his seat.
Music began to flow once more, but the atmosphere of the assembly had already transformed.
The music began to flow again, but the atmosphere in the audience had already changed.
Yun Cheon took a sip of the tea that had gone cold.
‘…Tomorrow.’
The true martial tournament would begin.

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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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