Reincarnation of the Cloud Dragon - Chapter 97

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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 97.
“…I lost.”
Dok Go Un’s voice was quiet.
Yet those words echoed clearly throughout the entire Grand Martial Arena.
“The victor: Yun Cheon of the Black Dragon Gang!”
The Butler’s declaration rang out belatedly.
The swift blade of the Cham Wol Dok Go Family had been defeated by a single blunt sword, its sword path completely sealed.
Before a man who hadn’t even drawn his blade.
Dok Go Un slowly returned his sword to its scabbard.
Click—
The sound of the blade sliding past the crescent moon emblem rippled softly across the Combat Platform.
He raised his fists in salute toward Yun Cheon.
“…I will not forget today’s lesson.”
Yun Cheon returned the gesture lightly.
“The Cham Wol blade was as swift and precise as its name suggests.”
Those words restored Dok Go Un’s dignity.
Defeated, yet unbroken.
Below the Combat Platform.
Ul Ji Geuk waited with his arms crossed, watching Dok Go Un descend.
“You lost.”
Dok Go Un didn’t slow his pace.
“Your turn is next.”
“What was he like?”
“…Words cannot capture it all.”
Dok Go Un said nothing more and walked past him.
Ul Ji Geuk’s lips curved upward, but his eyes did not smile.
Crackle—
A flash of azure lightning sparked briefly between the armor plates.
“I can hardly contain my curiosity.”
Ul Ji Geuk of the Pae Roe Ul Ji Family.
Yun Cheon, Master of the Black Dragon Gang.
Their confrontation was already set in stone.
Only then did the crowd begin to murmur.
The Black Dragon Gang.
When they first entered this martial tournament, the name had been spoken with mockery.
But that had changed.
Kang Hui had drawn forth the lightning of the Pae Roe Ul Ji Family, and Yun Cheon had sealed the blade of the Cham Wol Dok Go Family with a single blunt sword.
On the day the martial tournament ended, the name of the Black Dragon Gang would spread like a gale across the land.
“Master.”
As Yun Cheon returned to his seat, Kang Hui wiped the blood from his lips and smiled.
“Wow, even a swordmaster from the Dok Go Family is nothing before the Young Master?”
Yalü Hee immediately struck the back of his head.
Smack!
“Ow! Sister, I’m an injured patient here?”
“Mocking the defeated does not elevate you above them.”
Kang Hui opened his mouth as if to retort, but upon meeting Yalü Hee’s serious gaze, he simply scratched his head sheepishly and acquiesced.
“…Understood.”
Yun Cheon examined Kang Hui’s shoulder and side.
Traces of lightning burns.
Not deep enough to reach bone, yet far too severe to overlook in treating the qi disturbance.
“Hee is right. Stop your nonsense and focus on properly stabilizing your qi.”
“Yes, sir.”
This time, Kang Hui bowed his head without resistance.
Yun Cheon’s gaze shifted to Yalü Hee.
Yalü Hee watched the Combat Platform in silence.
Her arms were crossed, yet her fingers moved with the subtlest tremor.
A habit from before drawing her weapon.
Yun Cheon observed that movement.
Tension.
No.
It was closer to anticipation.
Yalü Hee knew it too.
Eight remained.
Her name would inevitably be called soon.
The clamor of the Grand Martial Arena gradually subsided.
The Butler unrolled the scroll for the next match.
That small gesture alone shifted the atmosphere of the Guangfeng Yalü Family.
“Third match of the final eight.”
Silence.
“Guangfeng Yalü Family, Yalü Hyeon.”
Yalü Hyeon rose quietly.
The Family Head’s son.
The legitimate heir who formally inherited the latter half of Windblown Soul and the Guangfeng Thirteen Paths.
The Butler spoke again.
“Versus.”
Yalü Jin’s fingers stilled at the rim of his teacup.
Yalü Cheok unconsciously clenched his fist.
“Black Dragon Gang, Yalü Hee.”
In that instant, the atmosphere of the Guangfeng Yalü Family grew heavy.
Yalü Hee.
The Family Head’s daughter.
One who left the main house of her own accord and joined the Black Dragon Gang, a remote faction.
Yet she returned, and was evaluated as having the qualities of a sect leader through her own demonic way.
In that instant, every gaze in the hall shifted at once.
“…!”
“The legitimate heir of the Guang Feng Yalü Family and….”
“The Family Head’s bloodline faces each other on the Combat Platform….”
“…They are siblings. Blood siblings.”
Whispers swept across the Combat Platform in a wave.
Yalü Hee slowly closed her eyes, then opened them.
She felt the gazes around her.
The calculations of the main house elders.
The curiosity of outside families.
Yalü Cheok’s concern.
Yalü Jin’s silence.
And Yun Cheon’s gaze.
Amidst all of it, Yalü Hee let out a quiet laugh.
“Finally.”
Kang Hui pouted.
“Sister, take it easy. That guy is still your younger brother, isn’t he?”
“That’s exactly why I need to do this properly.”
Yalü Hee picked up her blade.
Yun Cheon spoke in a low voice.
“Stand with your blade.”
Yalü Hee glanced at him.
“I was going to anyway.”
She rose from her position.
On the opposite side of the Combat Platform.
Yalü Hyeon completely unwound the cord binding the Cham Wol Blade.
The heavy blade separated from the cloth wrapped around his back.
Clang.
The Cham Wol Blade glimmered softly as it caught the sunlight.
The siblings’ gazes met across the empty space.
Yalü Hyeon spoke first.
“Sister.”
Yalü Hee’s steps halted.
She regarded Yalü Hyeon for a moment, then slowly shook her head.
“Set that title aside for now, before the Combat Platform.”
The siblings’ gazes met across the Combat Platform between them.
“I will give this everything I have.”
Yalü Hee’s hand rested upon the blade.
“If you bring sentiment or hesitation to this, know that you won’t even survive what we faced at the Black Dragon Gang.”
And she nodded slowly.
Yalü Hyeon’s hand gripped the Cham Wol blade tightly.
“Then Sister, do not see me as your younger brother anymore.”
The corner of Yalü Hee’s mouth lifted slightly.
“Right. For now, you are merely my opponent in combat.”
Her blade was drawn slowly.
“Combat begins!”
The moment the words ended.
Yalü Hyeon’s feet moved.
Wind followed in his footsteps.
‘…Wind Soul Step.’
Yalü Hee’s eyes narrowed.
The main family’s secret technique.
A footwork she had once yearned to learn, yet never received permission to master.
That very technique was unfolding beneath her younger brother’s feet.
The Wind Soul Step was no mere swift footwork.
It placed the weight of the Cham Wol blade upon the wind itself, filling the gaps between one technique and the next.
The reason the Guang Feng Yalü Family’s swordsmanship achieved swiftness despite embodying weight and strength.
That was the Wind Soul Step.
Yalü Hyeon’s Cham Wol blade traced its first arc.
The first technique.
One Blade Crimson Maple.
A swift blade descending as if to sever the very wind.
The broad blade rushed toward Yalü Hee’s throat with incredible speed.
Yalü Hee’s black blade moved as well.
On the surface, it appeared to be the same One Blade Crimson Maple.
Clang!
The two blades locked in midair.
The audience stirred.
“They’re using the same technique!”
“One Blade Crimson Maple!”
Yet the eyes of the masters saw differently.
Yalü Jin’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
‘They are not the same One Blade Crimson Maple.’
Yalü Hyeon’s One Blade Crimson Maple cleaved the wind head-on.
Strong, heavy, and direct.
Meanwhile, Yalü Hee’s One Blade Crimson Maple twisted minutely the instant it made contact.
Though it appeared to collide directly, the edge of her black blade slid half an inch to the side, deflecting the weight of the Cham Wol blade.
Clang—!
A flash of crimson light blazed briefly where the locked blades met.
It was the trace of the sword technique carved in Zamadong, the influence of Chuk Mu Gwang’s Radiant Acupoint Sword Method.
The roots were the same, but what they contained differed.
Yalü Hyeon did not pause.
The Cham Ma Sword sank downward, then erupted like a tempest.
Second form.
Gale Wind Arrival.
A storm pressing forward head-on.
Yalü Hyeon’s blade tore through space as it surged forth.
Immense weight resonated from his Gale Wind Arrival.
Yet Yalü Hee’s response was different.
Her footwork twisted by a single beat.
Wind God’s Dance.
Her body slipped half a chi away from the storm’s center.
The black blade carved in diagonally.
It was not defense.
A sharper, more refined technique that attacked even as it received.
‘The same Gale Wind Arrival, yet… something is different!’
Yalü Hyeon’s eyes wavered.
The trajectory of the Cham Ma Sword shifted ever so slightly.
Through that gap, Yalü Hee’s black blade aimed for the inside of his elbow.
Clang—!
Thanks to the Wind Soul Step anchoring his feet, Yalü Hyeon’s lower body remained steady.
The misaligned trajectory immediately corrected itself, and the weight of the Cham Ma Sword pushed Yalü Hee back once more.
One step.
Yalü Hee’s feet slid across the Combat Platform.
A footwork distinctly different from the Wind Soul Step.
Yalü Hyeon spoke in a low voice.
“That step is—!”
“No time to be surprised.”
Yalü Hee’s black blade flashed low once more.
This time her technique was faster.
Third form.
Wind God’s Triple Shadow.
A technique that seizes the rear like a violent gale.
Yalü Hee’s form, sliding forward, vanished leaving only afterimages.
Yalü Hee’s black blade surged from behind Yalü Hyeon.
Yalü Hyeon’s technique skipped ahead by one form.
Fourth form: Reverse Wind Returning Blade.
I deflect and counter.
The True Demon Blade spins sharply, striking away Yalü Hee’s black blade as it seeks my back.
Clang—!
“…!”
The impact sound was strange somehow.
The feel was different too.
My True Demon Blade tried to push away Yalü Hee’s black blade, but her blade slid along the spine of my sword.
The Wind Spirit Dance’s rotation rose from my ankle to my waist.
A movement as if anticipating my Reverse Wind Rotation Blade.
Her Reverse Wind Rotation Blade received mine and spun in response.
Her waist folded low, slipping beneath the arc of my True Demon Blade. A crimson afterimage lingered thinly above where my blade had passed.
Her black blade, moving at a speed beyond my prediction, cut toward my ribs.
“…!”
I forcibly bent the arc of my True Demon Blade.
With such a heavy weapon, it was no simple task.
Clang!
My True Demon Blade barely blocked it.
The spectators fell silent.
The more one watched, the more it seemed the same technique, yet it was not the same technique.
The elders of the Guangfeng Yalü Family murmured quietly.
“Hyeon is… being pushed back?”
“Is that also… the Guangfeng Thirteen Blades?”
The white-haired elder answered with a hardened expression.
“It is different from the main family’s!”
“Yet still… is it not the Guangfeng Thirteen Blades?”
Debate erupted among the elders.
Yalü Hee, who had been watching my Wind Soul Treasure, spoke softly.
“It would be a lie to say I wasn’t envious of the Wind Soul Treasure.”
“…Sister.”
“But I have no intention of asking for it now.”
Upon the Combat Platform.
Yalü Hee’s momentum quietly subsided.
Where her eyes had pursued the Wind Soul Treasure moments before, they were different now.
Not the eyes of one confirming what she could not receive.
Eyes gazing upon a path she had already forged herself.
“Let me show you my blade.”
Her black blade sang low.
My eyes too grew calm.
The True Demon Blade drew close to my waist once more.
I would press forward with the wheel rotation as before, but this time I intended to crush deeper, to kill.
Once again, the two siblings chose similar yet distinct techniques.
The Sixth Form.
Guangfeng Wheel Rotation.
Yalü Hee’s body moved first into the spin.
The black blade carved successive, sharp arcs through empty air.
They were not large circles.
They were finely fractured wind blades.
Yalü Hyeon immediately pressed Cham Ma Blade close to his body and entered his own rotation.
Crash—!
The two wheel rotations collided.
Yalü Hyeon’s Guangfeng Wheel Rotation was massive.
As the weight of Cham Ma Blade and Wind Soul Protection merged, the eye of the tempest seemed to push directly across the Combat Platform itself.
But Yalü Hee’s rotation was different.
She did not meet him head-on.
Rather than establishing one large circle, countless smaller arcs continuously burrowed inward, shaving away at the grain of the storm.
Once.
Again.
Short, light blade strikes tapped against the outer edge of Cham Ma Blade.
Yalü Hyeon’s brow furrowed sharply.
‘It’s not collapsing?’
By all logic, she should have been pushed back.
The size of the rotation, its weight, its center.
From every angle, his Guangfeng Wheel Rotation held the advantage.
Yet Yalü Hee’s black blade was not suppressed.
Rather, with each successive rotation, the small blades gradually shaved away at the storm’s outer edge.
Yalü Hyeon clenched his teeth.
The radius of Cham Ma Blade expanded further.
Boom—!
The Combat Platform floor resonated briefly.
Wind Soul Protection drove the rotation’s axis deeper.
This time, Yalü Hee’s wheel rotation truly seemed to be sucked inward.
Several in the audience held their breath.
In that instant.
Yalü Hee’s footwork transformed.
Her spinning feet suddenly began to cross in a dance-like pattern.
Not steps that rode the wind, but steps that flowed between wind and wind, wedging through the gaps.
Wind God Dance.
She channeled the Guangfeng Wheel Rotation’s spin directly into Wind God Dance, then fractured the elasticity contained in those footsteps into even shorter, denser blade strikes.
The Sixth Form.
Wind Blade Chaos Dance.
Yet it was not the orthodox Fengyin Sword Dance.
Not a single-directional gust of absolute sharpness,
but fractured strikes that split, crossed, and reconnected in intricate patterns.
Though bearing the same name, the blade possessed an entirely different character.
In that instant, wind swept across the Combat Platform.
Wind from no discernible source.
Within the colossal tempest Yalü Hyeon had conjured, thinner and far sharper currents began to bloom.
Slash—
A shallow wound traced across the back of Yalü Hyeon’s hand.
He immediately adjusted the trajectory of his Cham Ma Sword to seal the gap.
But it was too late.
Slash, slash—
This time, his shoulder.
Clang—!
The Cham Ma Sword deflected two strikes.
The third, he missed.
Rip—
Fabric tore and blood bloomed.
For the first time, Yalü Hyeon’s eyes wavered noticeably.
‘This… it’s growing within my own rotation.’
She wasn’t shattering the tempest head-on.
She was wedging herself into its gaps, disrupting the grain from within.
On the larger scale, Yalü Hee appeared to be losing ground.
Yet when broken into smaller exchanges, the initiative was gradually shifting to her with each passing moment.
Boom!
The Cham Ma Sword swept in a grand arc once more.
Yalü Hyeon forced the stage to expand, attempting to drive those unorthodox strikes outward.
But Yalü Hee was no longer beyond that reach.
The footwork of the Fengyin Sword Dance had penetrated another half-step deeper.
Her black blade flashed in short, successive bursts.
Slash, slash, slash—!
Yalü Hyeon’s garments tore in rapid succession.
His flank, shoulder, forearm.
The wounds were not deep, yet the rotation of the Cham Ma Sword grew increasingly unstable.
Yalü Hyeon gritted his teeth.
He gripped the Cham Ma Sword with greater force.
He endured with the Fengyin Technique, pressed forward with the Cham Ma Sword, and refused to yield his center.
But in that moment, Yalü Hee’s black blade chose the direct path for the first time.
A single straight line hidden among the fractured strikes.
Clang—!
The Cham Ma Sword was lifted upward.
It didn’t open completely, but just once.
Yalü Hyeon’s center axis was half a beat too slow.
That single moment was enough.
Yalü Hee’s blade flowed in at an angle.
Not the neck, not the hand.
The most vulnerable point where the Cham Ma Sword’s hilt connected to its body.
Crack!
Yalü Hyeon’s grip shook violently.
The Cham Ma Sword embedded itself halfway into the Combat Platform floor.
The knee he’d braced to resist finally couldn’t withstand the impact.
Thud.
Yalü Hyeon’s blood-soaked knee struck the Combat Platform.
His breathing was ragged.
Minor wounds scattered across his entire body in dizzying profusion.
Yet his eyes never wavered.
Yalü Hee didn’t press forward any further.
The tip of her black blade stopped an inch before Yalü Hyeon’s throat.
Silence descended upon the Grand Martial Arena.
No one could speak easily.
The legitimate heir of the Guang Feng Yalü Family,
had knelt before the daughter who left the Guang Feng Yalü Family.
Yalü Cheok drew a sharp breath.
Family Head Yalü Jin’s fingers paused briefly above his teacup.
Yalü Hyeon slowly steadied his breathing.
Then he raised his head.
“…I have lost, Sister.”
An even deeper silence blanketed the Combat Platform.
A moment later.
The Butler’s voice rang out belatedly.
“…The victor: Yalü Hee of the Black Dragon Gang!”

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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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