Return of the Cloud Dragon — Chapter 4: The Proof of the Strong
"What fun!"
Jeok Mu-gwang's maddened roar, trailing the lingering echo of booming laughter, shook the underground sparring grounds to their foundations.
Thousands of children, crushed beneath that overwhelming presence, could not so much as draw breath.
Even the hundred-odd drill instructors found themselves unable to move a muscle, standing tensed as they awaited his next move.
Step, step—.
Jeok Mu-gwang descended from the dais and strode until he stood directly before Yun Cheon.
"Well said. Now then, I suppose I'll have to see for myself what manner of blade you carry."
A cruel smile crept across Jeok Mu-gwang's lips.
His gaze swept up and down Yun Cheon's frail body.
From crown to heel, an obsessive scrutiny, as if he meant to count every bone. It was the cold, dispassionate stare of a butcher grading livestock.
"The trials of the Mad Path Pavilion have never been soft enough to pass on a silver tongue. But this instructor finds himself curious about what you carry. And so…."
At the very moment Jeok Mu-gwang was about to render his judgment, a sharp voice tore through the silence.
"Instructor! You cannot let this pass."
It was the girl in the red silk combat silks—Yayul Hui.
"Ho… A daughter of a cultist, is it? Speak, then."
He did not fault her for intruding mid-judgment.
They were, after all, in the midst of weighing the cult's doctrine.
Anyone had the right to interject.
Without a moment's hesitation she stepped forward and cried out, her voice brimming with fury and disdain.
"That boy blatantly deceived an instructor and threw the discipline of the Mad Path Pavilion into disarray! Dress it up however you like in talk of the Survival of the Fittest—all he's shown us is thieving and clever talk!"
At her brazen outburst, nods of agreement and murmuring rippled outward like a wave.
"To claim the highest standing through petty trickery, on a day meant to judge a warrior's aptitude, is unacceptable!"
The taut atmosphere of the sparring grounds stretched sharp once more.
But instead of silencing Yayul Hui, Jeok Mu-gwang merely curled his lips into a sardonic smile, choosing—as it seemed—to savor this intriguing turn of events.
That outfit… a daughter of the Yayul Family, is it? The way she brandishes the cult's rules like a weapon—truly befitting one of the Twelve Guardian Families.
Like a referee calling the match, Jeok Mu-gwang gave Yun Cheon a jerk of his chin.
"She has a point. Well then, whelp. Instead of tricks and a glib tongue—can you prove, here and now, that you carry a blade? If you cannot, you will be disposed of."
Every gaze converged on Yun Cheon once more.
Contempt, curiosity, jealousy—and even pure, unadorned doubt.
The formless pressure born of a thousand pairs of eyes bore down on his entire body.
Yet even under that crushing, desperate weight, Yun Cheon's gaze did not waver in the slightest.
He spared Yayul Hui not so much as a glance as she glared at him, fixing his eyes on Jeok Mu-gwang alone before speaking in a low voice.
"Judging true aptitude has never been an easy matter. So it may well have looked to you as though I had nothing but a silver tongue and a thief's hands…."
At his seemingly contrite admission, the faintest smile of victory touched Yayul Hui's lips.
But Yun Cheon's words were not finished.
"—if one's own eyes are lacking."
The continuation was unmistakably a barb aimed at Yayul Hui.
"What?!"
She bristled at once.
"If you cannot recognize it even when it's before your eyes, then your eyes may as well be shut. And now you ask me to prove what has already been proven. That puts me in a difficult position."
"Prove it? Prove what, exactly?!"
Yayul Hui pressed him again and again.
"…Do you speak of withstanding my presence?"
At Jeok Mu-gwang's words, the other children recoiled in shock.
He endured a peak-realm master's pressure?
Wait… so the blood at the corner of his mouth….
Even Yayul Hui was thrown off balance.
If that boy had truly withstood Instructor Jeok Mu-gwang's killing pressure, that alone would have qualified him as a warrior of genuine aptitude.
But Yun Cheon's next answer defied everyone's expectations.
"That is not it. You see, I have already saved an instructor's life once."
"…Saved him?"
"Had I aimed not at a mere rank tag, but at the vital point of Instructor Ma Chung where that tag rested—would that, too, have been dismissed as trickery and thievery?"
In an instant, the sparring grounds erupted into turmoil.
A single possibility dawned on everyone present.
Ambush!
Yayul Hui's smile froze solid.
She had watched the whole thing unfold—and missed it entirely.
Ma Chung's face, master of the Blood Wind Leg, went past ashen to the color of ash and bone.
You insane little—! One slip and my head could go flying!
Disaster born of his own carelessness.
And hanging at the end of that thread was his own neck.
D-damn it all! I can't step forward now either. What do I do…?
But Yun Cheon paid no heed to Ma Chung or Yayul Hui at all.
His eyes were fixed solely on the master of the grounds—Jeok Mu-gwang.
The person he needed to persuade, after all, was not some powerless girl or a mere drill instructor.
"I merely exploited a moment's carelessness—and made certain everyone here understood what that carelessness means."
A cold sneer curled Yun Cheon's lips.
"So let me ask you. Does this cult's doctrine of the Survival of the Fittest exist so that those merely born lucky, blessed with much from the start, may trample those who have yet to gain it?"
The instant Yayul Hui heard those words, she knew she had lost.
He was never trying to argue with me at all, was he? Don't tell me… from the very beginning?
Yun Cheon's logic was masterfully twisted.
Strong and weak.
The simplest relationship of all, decided by the dominance of force.
Yun Cheon had transformed it into the relationship between those lucky enough to possess and those who had not yet obtained.
And the moment he did, the contradiction that had been so slyly justified in the name of the Survival of the Fittest stood naked for all to see.
Birth.
The word cut in brutal contrast between Yun Cheon's rags and the red silk silks Yayul Hui wore.
It drove itself deep into every mind on the grounds.
Power inherited by bloodline from the moment of birth.
Yun Cheon's words had skewered it straight through.
'……!'
Yayul Hui's face flushed crimson in an instant.
Instructor Jeok Mu-gwang's eyes changed—and so did the drill instructors'.
This has truly become dangerous.
There are children of the cult's entrenched elite in this very hall!
Yun Cheon was certain.
No follower of the demonic path would dare deny his words outright.
I will brandish your own doctrine more fervently than any of you—and one day, I will drive a blade into the heart of your cult!
So long as they publicly championed the Survival of the Fittest, they could not bar his challenge.
"…You know the cult's doctrine very well indeed, whelp."
The smile that had hung on Jeok Mu-gwang's lips vanished in an instant.
In its place, a chilling light flared in his eyes—cold enough to see straight through a man.
"Yes. Just as you say. A cornered weakling sinking its teeth into a strong one's throat—that, too, is the Survival of the Fittest."
He quietly affirmed Yun Cheon's logic.
But his words did not end there.
Instructor Jeok Mu-gwang turned to face the drill instructors.
"Which is to say, the Survival of the Fittest means that for the strong, not even a single instant of carelessness is permitted. And how did all of you fare?"
Yun Cheon's act had, before anyone realized it, ceased to be simple theft—its meaning inverted entirely into a living reminder of the founding creed of the Heavenly Demon Cult itself.
"This whelp has proven the doctrine of the Survival of the Fittest with his own body! Therefore, I grant him his chance. Is there anyone who still disputes this instructor's ruling?"
Yayul Hui trembled with rage and shame.
I lost…!
Yu Ha, watching from the sidelines, felt gooseflesh crawl up his spine despite himself.
…The madman. He seized hold of the Survival of the Fittest and twisted it back on them all until every mouth was sealed! That's checkmate. Just… what in the world is he?
Yu Ha's eyes flashed with something like awe—as if he had stumbled upon a gem the likes of which he'd never seen in his life.
"…."
A heavy silence settled over the sparring grounds.
Jeok Mu-gwang paid it no mind and called out to Instructor Ma Chung.
"The instructor who judged this boy—Ma Chung of the Blood Wind Leg. Step forward."
Ma Chung dropped to his knees at once and drove his forehead into the ground three times.
Thud—! Thud—! Thud—!
The stone floor cracked, and scarlet blood streamed down from his brow.
"Ma Chung. You, an instructor, let your guard down and were toyed with by a mere child. You have forfeited the right to enjoy your station as one of the strong."
As if to pay the price of his failing, Ma Chung thrust an arm forward—he pressed his own acupoints and bellowed as he offered the limb out.
"The Heavenly Demon reigns supreme—all ten thousand demons bow before him!"
The moment Jeok Mu-gwang's hand rose toward the saber at his waist, every soul on the grounds held its breath.
"Ma Chung, severing your head would be no great trouble. But…."
One misstep and the instructor might lose an arm—or at worst, his head.
Not only the cadets but the instructors themselves wore tension etched into every face.
"It would be a waste of all the effort this cult has invested in raising you."
Yet contrary to expectation, Jeok Mu-gwang did not draw his blade.
His hand slid slowly from the hilt.
"Let every instructor here remember this. Your sloth dulls the blade of the cult. Should I witness such a mistake a second time, my blade will not aim for an arm—it will aim for your head!"
Jeok Mu-gwang scattered a frigid killing intent across every instructor as he spoke.
"By your command!"
Then Jeok Mu-gwang's cold gaze swung back toward Yayul Hui and the children of the highest standing.
"Daughter of the Yayul Family—and all of you who sympathized with her in your hearts—listen well."
Jeok Mu-gwang clicked his tongue.
"Looking at you lot, I'm reminded of tiger cubs raised fat on handouts."
"…."
"Never once thinking to hunt for yourselves, content to grow on prey your mothers dragged back—did you simply forget how to hunt?"
Under that rebuke, Yayul Hui could only blame herself.
…Both that boy and the instructor are right.
She had grown so accustomed to the pedigree of the Twelve Guardian Families and the cult's hierarchy that she had, somewhere along the way, forgotten the very essence of the Survival of the Fittest.
"From this moment, either sharpen your teeth and reclaim your place as predators—or prepare yourselves to become prey, docile and willing. The choice is yours."
He nodded once and pressed on.
"This is the true meaning of the Survival of the Fittest that you must carve into your very bones!"
"The law of the strong prevails—may the demonic path flourish!"
The drill instructors answered as one.
Jeok Mu-gwang smiled inwardly.
Because that whelp stepped forward, I swept the complacency from my instructors and whipped the cadets' discipline back into shape. Not a bad harvest at all….
The complacency was gone from the instructors' voices, replaced by a far sharper vigilance.
But watching all of this unfold, Yun Cheon felt his own alarm deepen.
The demonic path… is more methodical than I imagined. They turned an unforeseen crisis into a lever to discipline their own instructors. A formidable opponent.
The instructor knew how to absorb a small loss in exchange for a far greater gain.
Jeok Mu-gwang, is it… he's no ordinary man.
Not zealots who merely led with brute force, but an organization that moved on profit and efficiency alone, down to the last cog.
So this is how thorough the demonic path was… and that is why Kunlun fell.
And that made them all the more terrifying an enemy.
"Good. We will now proceed with the evaluation."
Jeok Mu-gwang called the children of the upper rank who had distinguished themselves forward, apart from the rest.
Thirty in all, Yun Cheon among them.
"The ten of you who survive until the very end will be granted the highest standing!"
At this unexpected opportunity, color bloomed across the faces of the upper-ranked children.
The pre-existing holders of the highest rank, meanwhile, made no effort to hide their displeasure.
As Yun Cheon joined their line, he could feel dozens—hundreds—of pairs of eyes latching onto his back.
Yun Cheon faced the contempt pouring down on him without a flicker of reaction.
Combat robes of costly silk, an exquisite jade tablet at the waist, and above all that expression with arrogance soaked into the marrow.
So these are the pampered heirs of the cult's inner elite.
The sort raised from birth on every elixir and every lesson, who believed themselves the very center of the world.
He had seen the type until he was sick of it—among the hypocritical scions of the orthodox sects' great houses in his past life.
In the end, the orthodox sects and the demonic cult play precisely the same games.
The very grievances he had swallowed time and again as a rising talent from the frontier provinces of Kunlun.
Scarcely had he taken his place at the end of the line when undisguised whispering began.
"Would you look at that getup. That filthy bag of bones actually lucked into a chance…."
"Hah, wriggles his brain a little and suddenly he's the highest rank? The instructor must have lost his judgment for a moment. What could a cast-off scrap like that possibly do?"
"Don't tell me he's after the Demonic Bone Metamorphosis Art too? How utterly laughable."
Then one boy snickered darkly and drew a finger across his own throat.
It was Muk Ha-jin of the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family—renowned for martial arts as insidious and lethal as serpents and scorpions.
"So what if the instructor gave him his chance? If someone unfit for the highest rank exists, we need only clean him up ourselves. Keh-heh."
At the low murmur threading through the children, Jeok Mu-gwang turned and issued a warning.
"What—any more of you who dispute the ruling? This instructor will gladly re-evaluate each of you personally. But… anyone who keeps delaying the schedule of this evaluation will pay the price for it."
Only under that lethal warning did the grumbling children of the highest rank finally shut their mouths.
"Good."
Jeok Mu-gwang nodded, then personally led the thirty children toward a corner of the Mad Path Pavilion.
In the corner of the pavilion, perched precariously on the mountainside, yawned a vertigo-inducing cliff.
Beneath the sheer drop, whose bottom could not be seen, grotesquely shaped rocks thrust upward like the fangs of some colossal beast.
"Here, I will test your grit and your will!"
Whiiiish—.
Before Jeok Mu-gwang's words had even finished falling, a savage canyon wind lashed mercilessly at the children's threadbare hems.
It was a height from which a fall would leave not even a whole corpse behind.
"Only ten will rise to the highest rank. Cling to the cliff and outlast the others—survive longer than any of them."
The faces of the children about to take the test went ghost-white.
Just then, from among the crowd of highest-ranked children watching from the rear, someone's hand shot up.
It was the boy with the mischievous face—the very one who had watched Yun Cheon with keen interest throughout the entire proceedings.
"Instructor, I have one question."
Jeok Mu-gwang's brow furrowed.
"Speak."
"Is this test simply to hang there quietly and endure the longest? Or… are we meant to knock others down in order to survive?"
At Yu Ha's icy question, a charged tension passed through the children.
The nature of this test changes entirely depending on his answer!
Fear surfaced in some of the children's eyes; anticipation bloomed in others.
The boy's question was the most essential doubt of all—the one every child had been nursing in their hearts.
A cruel smile crept onto Jeok Mu-gwang's lips.
Looking down upon the thirty children, he declared in a low but resolute voice:
"…Isn't it obvious? To survive, use whatever means you like. Isn't that what the Survival of the Fittest is all about?"
Return of the Cloud Dragon
Author | Chu Sang (Autumn Frost)
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Editor-in-Charge | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books
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