Reincarnation of the Cloud Dragon - Chapter 91

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

Chapter 91.
The dawn air was bitterly cold.
Though the warmth and wine-laden atmosphere from last night’s Grand Banquet Hall might have lingered somewhere within the estate, the path leading to the Grand Martial Arena was crystalline and frigid beyond measure. Before the sun had fully risen, the stone beneath one’s feet still clung to the chill it had absorbed through the night.
From the Guest House in the Outer Hall, the disciples emerged one by one. Some retightened the cords of their sword sheaths, others ran their fingertips along the shafts of their spears.
Though their lips remained sealed with tension, their hands moved with restless energy.
Kang Hui stretched his shoulders with a long yawn.
“Why do you all look like you’re marching to your deaths? This isn’t a funeral, after all.”
Yeon Ha Ran, apparently intending to take a seat in the viewing stands, had dressed herself neatly and now held her eyes wide open.
“Aren’t you nervous, older brother?”
“Nervous about what? It’s not like we’re fighting to the death.”
Kang Hui let out a scoff.
“Don’t get too carried away.”
Yun Cheon glanced at Kang Hui once and spoke tersely.
He wore his customary black martial robe, with a sword and saber both slung across his back.
Yalü Hee emerged next. She too was dressed in a black martial robe, with a black saber neatly fastened at her waist.
Yun Cheon turned to look at Yalü Hee and asked.
“Did you sleep?”
“…Barely. The bedding isn’t familiar to me.”
Yalü Hee was even quieter than yesterday.
The Grand Martial Arena of the main family.
The family head Yalü Jin and her older brother Yalü Cheok, along with the distinguished guests invited to the main residence, would all be seated in the judges’ platform. Before them, she had to prove the path she had carved out after leaving the Guang Feng Yalü Family.
It was undoubtedly an uncomfortable position, but that didn’t mean she wanted to avoid it.
She possessed confidence, yet the nervousness was unavoidable.
“Haa….”
Yalü Hee drew in a deep breath, straightened her chest, and held her spine erect.
“Stop dwelling on useless thoughts and do as you’ve been doing. Let’s go.”
As Yun Cheon took the lead, the group naturally followed in his wake.
The Grand Martial Arena was an entirely different space from the banquet hall.
Where lanterns and crimson drapes had dominated the night, the morning arena was oppressed by sunlight, stone flooring, and vast emptiness. Flags raised high fluttered heavily in the wind, and pale lines were drawn neatly across the wide central platform. No one stood upon it yet, but that very emptiness only heightened the tension.
Yun Cheon and Kang Hui, Yalü Hee and Yeop Cheong A.
The participants in the martial tournament took their seats in the waiting areas divided left and right.
Yeon So Ran and Yeon Ha Ran, who were not participating in the tournament, were guided to the viewing stands.
The spectators ascended onto the outer platform, and several figures were already seated in the judges’ platform at the highest level.
In the center sat Yalü Jin.
One seat below on his right was Yalü Cheok.
And to both sides, the elders of the Guang Feng Yalü Family and heavyweight guests invited from outside took their places in order.
Those presumed to be from the Twelve Orthodox Families apparently had no intention of appearing in the judges’ seats and instead took positions in the spectator section.
The Veiled Woman sat one row back from them, positioned slightly off to the side from the men’s line of sight. Though her face was completely covered, she was the kind of woman whose presence inexplicably drew the eye first.
Shortly after, a steward stepped forward.
He surveyed the vast arena once and then opened his mouth clearly.
“Today’s gathering serves as the first stage of the Martial Arts Tournament—a venue to verify the qualifications of all participants.”
The eyes of everyone present converged upon him.
“As your names are called, you will step forward, reveal your weapons, and demonstrate a single martial technique. Afterward, the Family Head and the esteemed elders will offer their assessments.”
A brief silence fell.
“Based on these evaluations, your eligibility to participate in the main tournament and your match pairings will be determined.”
As those words landed, the shoulders of several younger participants visibly stiffened. This was no mere demonstration—they would be judged and decided upon in this very moment.
The steward stepped back.
Then Yalü Jin spoke briefly from his seat.
“This Family Head values substance over formality.”
With that single statement, the atmosphere in the hall was reordered once more.
“You have but one opportunity. Display your most confident technique without regret.”
His words were brief, yet they carried no room for compromise or mercy.
Kang Hui clicked his tongue softly.
“Judged on a single technique alone…?”
“That’s what makes it interesting.”
Yalü Hee murmured quietly beside him.
“One mistake, and your name falls along with you.”
Before her words had even finished, the steward called the first name.
“Gwak Jin of the Baekyang Gwak Family. Step forward.”
A young man seated on the left side of the waiting area rose to his feet.
Around twenty years old. Dressed in a neat blue martial robe, a long sword at his waist.
His stride, his fist salute, the way he drew his blade—all executed with impeccable precision.
The moment Gwak Jin took his place at the center, he steadied his breathing and immediately unsheathed his sword.
A sharp metallic ring.
A brief, clean draw.
The sword forms that followed were equally free of excess.
There was a refinement that only one who had long cultivated the fundamentals could display.
When the demonstration ended, Gwak Jin sheathed his blade and performed a respectful salute.
His eyes gleamed with anticipation of praise.
Yalü Jin spoke first.
“Your foundation is not poor.”
Gwak Jin’s eyes brightened momentarily.
But the next words came swiftly.
“However… you are not yet of the caliber to ascend this family’s tournament stage. Rejected.”
Gwak Jin’s face hardened.
From one corner of the viewing area, someone stifled a quiet laugh.
The steward called the next name as though nothing had occurred.
“Jang Se Yun of the Hebei Jang Family. Step forward.”
This time, the weapon was a spear.
Jang Se Yun strode forward with broad shoulders thrown back and demonstrated his spear technique.
Screech—.
The sound of the spear blade cutting through the air came first, sharp and loud.
Yet the Family Head’s assessment was cold and measured.
“Momentum alone. The execution falls short.”
The elder added his voice.
“A spear meant to impress spectators, not to kill an opponent. Tsk, tsk….”
Jang Se Yun’s complexion darkened noticeably.
The third and fourth demonstrators fared little better.
Some possessed refinement but lacked impact; others moved swiftly but lacked depth. With each technique concluded, the judges’ bench dispensed brief, cutting remarks—words that seemed like praise before they carved away at a person’s worth. The atmosphere of the Grand Martial Arena grew heavier by the moment.
From the viewing stands, Yeon Ha Ran murmured softly.
“I never expected him to be so blunt….”
Yeon So Ran answered without turning her gaze away.
“That’s what gives it value.”
“Value?”
“The Family Head’s single word can elevate or diminish a person’s reputation.”
Yeon Ha Ran found herself shrinking slightly in her seat.
Then it came.
The steward’s voice rang out once more.
“Black Dragon Gang, Kang Hui. Step forward.”
Every eye in the arena fixed upon him at once.
The one who had defeated Jin Mu Ryang and Han Seo Baek in the Outer Hall last night.
“It’s him from the Outer Hall yesterday.”
“He brought down Jin Mu Ryang and Han Seo Baek in a single exchange.”
When Kang Hui’s name was called, the expressions of Jin Mu Ryang and Han Seo Baek became peculiar.
If Kang Hui passed, their defeat would carry some mitigating circumstance.
It would mean Kang Hui possessed genuine skill worthy of recognition.
But if Kang Hui failed, they would be revealed as inferior to a failed candidate—a true collapse.
A cruel paradox.
They could not decide whether to pray for his success or curse his failure.
Kang Hui scratched his chin once, then stepped into the center with an unhurried gait.
“Declare your weapon.”
At the steward’s command, Kang Hui revealed the back of his hand.
The Blood Claw, fitted with five metal talons, gleamed briefly beneath the sunlight.
“This is my weapon.”
Kang Hui advanced slowly. Like yesterday, he did not assume a formal stance. He entered with the Blood Claw hanging loosely at his side.
He glanced down at the ground once, then scraped his foot across the thin layer of sand covering the earthen floor.
Then, at last, he drew a single breath.
In that instant, Kang Hui’s feet moved first.
Thud—.
A true strike from his vagrant days—unrefined footwork, yet it left a deep mark in the earth. Channeling the recoil through his shoulders, Kang Hui’s body surged forward, covering two strides in a single breath.
Though he moved through empty air without an opponent, those who had witnessed yesterday’s duel could see what was truly there.
The Iron Mountain Strike that had crashed into Han Seo Baek’s chest.
Yet layered atop that final move was one more technique from the Blood Claw.
A weighted shoulder drove into the invisible opponent’s embrace, followed by five talons raking a long, vicious line across the target.
Shriek—
Kang Hui’s demonstration ended there.
No flashy flourishes, only the killing technique he had withheld during yesterday’s duel.
‘…Was he showing mercy even when parrying my blade yesterday?’
‘If that technique had been aimed at my body….’
Han Seo Baek and Jin Mu Ryang felt their blood run cold.
Those seated in the judges’ section appeared to deliberate for a moment.
They had not witnessed yesterday’s Iron Mountain Strike.
“I said to show only one technique… this is ambiguous.”
“…But since the techniques are linked, couldn’t we count it as one exchange?”
“That one seemed less like a demonstration of martial arts and more like he was envisioning a duel with someone.”
“It was practical technique. I would grant approval.”
Yalü Jin, who rendered the decision shortly after, spoke.
“Crude perhaps, but thick with the scent of real combat. Approved.”
Watching the elders exchange opinions, the process had clearly been far from smooth.
Yet this was the first approval to emerge from a long string of rejections.
The spectators’ eyes widened.
The steward’s calls continued several more times after that.
Roughly one in ten.
Each was a scion of a renowned martial family, yet receiving approval from the Yalü family head was not easy.
“…Rejected again?”
“Sigh… this is difficult….”
“So being invited doesn’t guarantee you can compete in the martial exhibition….”
The atmosphere of the Grand Martial Arena grew increasingly tense.
No one watched the demonstrations with ease anymore as they had at first.
Everyone had come to understand that the moment a technique was displayed, judgment fell, and all that remained was that judgment.
And finally.
The steward’s hand paused as he turned the ledger.
“Next. Black Dragon Gang Master Yun Cheon. Come forward.”
That brief announcement changed the air in the hall.
Kang Hui of the Black Dragon Gang had already received approval.
But for the gang master himself to step forward—anticipation was inevitable.
Yun Cheon rose slowly from his seat.
He carried both a sword and a saber.
Even after entering the center of the demonstration arena, Yun Cheon drew neither.
‘He carries both sword and saber?’
‘A Taoist blade master…?’
‘Or a swordsman…?’
That brief pause alone deepened the tension in the arena another layer.
In that moment, Yun Cheon’s hand began to move slowly.
Sling—.
A short, clear metallic ring cut across the Grand Martial Arena.
The sword remained on his back untouched.
What was drawn was a blade emanating a chilling aura.
A small ripple of murmurs swept through the audience.
“He drew a blade, not a sword?”
“A blade in the courtyard of the Guang Feng Yalü Family, renowned for blade techniques…?”
“Such baseless confidence….”
Yun Cheon paid no heed to the audience’s reaction.
He simply lowered the blade in his hand lightly and slowly assumed his stance.
One step.
His feet moved first.
The eyes of the elders shifted upon witnessing that footwork.
“…A stepping technique?”
“…The movement is exquisite.”
A low, profound stepping technique carved into the space first.
The blade sliced through the carved space.
Chasing Life Blade.
A swift blade that concealed no killing intent.
The blade’s trajectory was sharp and without hesitation.
To anyone’s eye, it was a blade honed through real combat.
After completing his demonstration, Yun Cheon quietly lowered the blade.
“Huh… did our sect possess such a blade technique?”
“It is a blade technique worthy of being called a singular masterpiece.”
“I am most curious to see it clash with Guang Feng blade technique. I shall grant passage.”
The elders, who had until now rendered judgments with the severity of frost, unanimously offered generous praise.
“There is a blood-scent lingering in the blade… but the stepping technique is utterly….”
“…It is a pity to have witnessed only one technique.”
“We have already transcended the matter of passage or rejection.”
The other elders echoed their agreement.
None in the audience doubted it was anything but a Demonic Cult blade technique.
‘…Who would have thought Kunlun’s blade would pass as a killing blade of the Demonic Way in the Demonic Cult’s presence.’
Only Yun Cheon smiled wryly.
Commotion stirred among those seated in the guest section.
One group merely blinked their eyes, unable to comprehend the situation.
Another group marveled, sensing the disparity in caliber.
Meanwhile, those who had been watching Yun Cheon since yesterday displayed an entirely different reaction.
“…Half the rabble gathered here wouldn’t be able to withstand even one of his techniques.”
“Kekeke… But are you confident you could withstand it? It doesn’t look like an easy prospect.”
“Observing and actually defending against are two different matters.”
“I’d like to test myself against him right now.”
“Hehe… I never expected the men of the Twelve Orthodox Families to be so generous with their praise. How surprising.”
The Veiled Woman laughed softly.
Yalü Jin opened his mouth.
“I shall offer my assessment.”
All eyes in the arena turned back to the family head.
His words alone were enough to settle the commotion that had begun to stir.
“There is no deficiency… However—.”
A brief evaluation, yet one he had never bestowed upon anyone before.
But what followed exceeded all expectations.
“You are not wearing that sword merely as decoration, I presume.”
Yalü Jin’s gaze shifted to the blade strapped across Yun Cheon’s back.
“Will you not show it?”
“You spoke of a single technique, not a display. Let the sword remain a pleasure for the main stage.”
Yun Cheon’s voice was low yet clear.
Yalü Cheok’s eyes lit with genuine interest for the first time.
‘There exists one who would speak thus to Father, directly before him.’
In that instant, the air of the Grand Martial Arena grew even more taut.
“…Now that you mention it!”
“Ah… I had forgotten about the sword.”
“The way he speaks, it doesn’t seem like mere boasting.”
Exclamations rose from the elder’s section.
The man from the Pae Roe Ul Ji Family’s lips curved upward, and the iron-staff giant suppressed a quiet laugh. The Veiled Woman tilted her head slightly, regarding Yun Cheon with prolonged attention.
Soon after, Yalü Jin gave the faintest nod.
“…Very well. I shall see the sword on the main stage. Approved.”
Just as Yun Cheon turned to return to his seat.
The steward’s voice rang out once more.
“Next is….”
For the first time, a brief hesitation flickered through the steward’s usually unwavering voice.
“…Black Dragon Gang. Yalü Hee.”
Yalü Hee rose slowly from her seat.

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