The Serpent's Trap
"Stay close behind me. There are more of them than I expected."
The instant Yun Cheon's icy warning fell, black shadows came surging through the trees.
They were assassins of Poison Fang Hall — killers secretly raised by the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family.
Not warriors who traded momentum and blade-work face to face.
They were a professional death squad that erased the sound of their footsteps, hid their breath, and killed with poison woven into every coordinated strike. In raw, head-on martial power they might have fallen short of the regular forces of the Twelve Guardian Families, but the moment they completed an encirclement on a forest path like this, the equation changed entirely.
And on the tips of the Wugang swords they carried glistened a vicious venom that rotted flesh at the slightest touch.
Baekri Hyeon's face drained white.
"Let's fall back to the Inner Library for now! Elder Cheon Gyeon is there!"
Baekri Hyeon screamed himself gray, but Yun Cheon did not retreat a single step.
Every direction was sealed by venomous blades; there was no safe place to fall back to in the first place.
"Turn your back on them and you're the first to die."
Yun Cheon's answer was calm.
There was no gap to escape through.
Then he would thin their numbers first.
His hand swept across his waist—
Fwip-fwip-fwip-fwip!
A flash of steel split the air.
What shot from Yun Cheon's fingers were the concealed blades Ya Jin had gifted him — the finest throwing daggers of the Shadowless Killing Sect, the Soul-Severing Darts.
"Dodge!"
A horrified scream tore through the silence of the forest.
"Wh... what in the—!"
Thud! Thud! Thwack!
Three assassins lunging from the vanguard collapsed at once.
"Ugh!"
"Kghak...!"
Black shadows leaping in from all sides, venomous swords raised high, folded and dropped like puppets with their strings cut.
The brow, the philtrum, the heart.
The Soul-Severing Darts pierced precisely, and only, the vital points of the killers.
A speed beyond divinity — no time to guard, no time to evade. The assassins pinned to the earth never rose again. It was instant death.
Curiously, no blood flowed from the wounds the darts had left.
It was Yun Cheon's internal energy riding the steel. His frigid yin qi had frozen the blood solid before it could spill.
"Th-what is this...?"
"Did... did you just see that?"
"What... what the hell just happened?"
The intelligence had been clear: a patient of Severed Meridian Syndrome, a body utterly hollow of internal power. A man versed in nothing but brawling and footwork. And yet with a handful of throwing darts, he had cut down three near-first-rate assassins in the space of a breath.
As their comrades dropped in an instant, the momentum of the trailing killers faltered.
"Kkugh...!"
The leader of Poison Fang Hall barely managed to raise his sword and deflect an incoming dart, but the heavy impact rolling down the blade drove him back several full steps. His grip burned as though the skin were tearing away.
"Don't stop! Hold the encirclement!"
The pupils of the snarling leader shook violently.
Throwing arts? How, without a trace of internal power...!
But Yun Cheon did not miss the hairline crack of hesitation.
Shrrring—
With a cold ring of metal, the saber he had never once drawn finally slipped free of its sheath.
Yun Cheon's new form sank into the Shadowless Step and bored into the killers' midst.
"Block him!"
The assassins hurriedly raised their swords in defense. But Yun Cheon's blade mocked their expectations, cutting in along a bizarre, twisting trajectory.
Shaaak—!
Each time the saber flashed, a piece of space itself seemed to be carved away. Wherever the edge passed, flesh and blood froze mid-spray, caked in white frost.
At that grotesque, horrifying sight, the leader's eyes nearly split open.
It was nothing like the information he had bled gold to obtain.
"What! I was told he was a brawler who used kicks and iron fists!"
The man was no brawler at all.
Yun Cheon's saber flashed again.
Shaaak—!
Frost bloomed along every path the blade took; flesh and blood froze where they fell. A cold sweat crawled down the leader's spine.
What... what kind of saber art is this?
It was not as domineering as a Demonic Path blade method, nor as upright as an orthodox one. Too savage, and too cold at once. A terrifyingly swift blade that seemed ready to sever the soul itself. To the leader's eyes, it was simply a sword he could not name.
It was the forbidden art of Kunlun — the Lifesnatcher's Blade. A saber method already steeped in killing intent, now layered with the frigid yin qi of the Limitless Ice Heart Canon. The result was a cold, razor-edged swift blade, complete.
As expected — I chose well.
The burly man watching Yun Cheon's rampage twisted the corners of his mouth up beneath his mask.
The side worth betting on is his!
At that moment, the leader glared at the burly man beside him with bloodshot eyes.
"You rat-faced bastard! The information I paid a fortune for is all lies! You led us into a trap!"
Ma Chung let a faint sneer slip out beneath his mask.
"I didn't know either... that the kid was this good."
His voice was thick with flustered panic — and, strangely, a kind of dark delight. The leader's blood boiled at the sight.
This was Poison Fang Hall, armed with poison, hidden blades, and coordinated strikes. He had believed they could bag even a Peak realm master. Yet the exchange had fallen apart from the very first clash. The throwing arts, the saber, the internal power — all of it lay far outside the intelligence.
"You... bastard! Do you think this kind of answer ends anything? I'll have your—"
But before he could finish, the tide of battle turned all at once.
"Ggaaagh!"
"Hall Master! The formation has collapsed!"
Poison Fang Hall's killers were dropping like autumn leaves in a gale. Cold sweat ran down the leader's spine.
This is bad. At this rate, we're annihilated.
A single thought flashed through his mind like lightning.
I have to survive. Even if it's only me.
The others could die for all he cared. Assassins were expendables by nature — trained precisely so that no trace of the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family would remain. But he himself was direct bloodline of the main house. If he were captured, the entire clan would suffer the blow.
Not for myself! Purely, absolutely, for the main family...!
Steeling his resolve, the leader shouted.
"Cut him down, ready to die together! One strike is all we need!"
His command was absolute. The killers, resigning themselves to death, raised their poisoned swords and hurled themselves at Yun Cheon.
The moment every eye turned toward that clash, the leader threw himself away without a backward glance.
Forgive me. Die for the Muk Family!
He was just about to vanish into the depths of the forest when—
BAM!
An abrupt impact slammed into his flank.
"Kkeuk!"
The leader screamed as he tumbled across the ground. He managed to lift his head — and the man barring his way was none other than the burly giant.
"You... you son of a bitch! Bad intel was one thing, but what the hell do you think you're doing!"
In answer to the leader's roar, the man slowly pulled off his mask and tossed it aside.
The face revealed wore a fish-belly sneer — Drill Instructor Ma Chung.
"Did you really think this Ma Chung would fall for the tongue of a second-rate snake?"
Ma Chung flexed his massive thighs and growled low.
Me — the man who witnessed that monster's talent closer than anyone — sell him off for a handful of gold coins?
Yun Cheon was far too vast, too alluring an investment for that.
"You... you traitor!"
"Traitor? Watch your words. I never stood on your side to begin with."
Ma Chung smiled thinly.
"I bet on him from the start."
"Bastard...! You — a mere Drill Instructor — got your rank tag stolen by a cadet, suffered that humiliation, and you still take his side?"
"Humiliated?"
Ma Chung raised his Blood Wind Leg.
"Of course I was. But I'm not blind."
With a dry chuckle, Ma Chung came charging at the leader. Blood Wind Leg erupted, sealing off every avenue of retreat.
"Hall Master! Your orders—! The encirclement is breaking!"
Every time the leader's fist shot out, it tore open Ma Chung's shoulder, his flank. From the start, Ma Chung had no intention of winning. If he couldn't block, he took the hit — and even while taking hits, he wedged his arms into the escape route and plugged it.
All he had to do was hold the man in place.
"Bastard! Stop getting in my way!"
Frantic, the leader swung wildly, but Ma Chung, giving flesh to take bone, absorbed everything with his body and clung on with maddening persistence.
"Is the fist of the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family really this weak? I'd say it's worse than my kicks."
He even taunted as he fought. Ma Chung scraped and stung, buying time.
The Hall Master of Poison Fang Hall, by contrast, was burning with panic. Every few moments, a stifled groan drifted across the clearing — the sound of killers he had raised with his own hands, dying. Men trained never to scream even in the face of death.
My Poison Fang Hall...! An organization that could even slay a Peak master, reduced to this!
The Hall Master felt no attachment to the deaths themselves. Assassins were raised to be spent, after all. The only problem was that even as the killers' encirclement crumbled, he still could not tear himself free.
Yun Cheon did not miss that flicker of desperation.
"Fools. Abandoned hounds, throwing themselves at the enemy without even knowing they've been thrown away."
Sshk.
Severing the arm of a lunging assassin, Yun Cheon pronounced coldly.
"What... do you mean?!"
"Look at the man who sent you here. If he'd had any intention of taking responsibility, he would never have come at us wearing masks in the first place."
"What...! Th-that's impossible!"
Yun Cheon's words planted the seed of doubt in the killers' hearts. They stole glances backward — and there, sprawled and pathetic, was their leader, caught by the ankle by Ma Chung as he tried to flee.
The commander who had driven them into a living hell and was now running for his life alone.
In that instant, the killers' movements froze.
"You saw him try to run. Do you still need time to decide? Surrender your weapons now, of your own will, confess everything — and I'll spare your lives."
"And why should we trust your word!"
One assassin snarled back through gritted teeth. Yun Cheon flicked the blood from his blade and shrugged.
"You don't have to. After all, the one who knows the most isn't any of you — it's that leader of yours, running for the treeline."
The words cut deeper than a dagger. It was a declaration: you were expendable, start to finish.
Yun Cheon held up two fingers.
"Two. Just two."
"......!"
"That's all I need. Enough men to cross-check that leader's testimony. The rest — there's no reason to keep you alive."
In that instant, a strange fracture spread through the ranks of the killers.
Some clenched their jaws and gripped their swords tighter. Some turned trembling eyes backward.
"Don't be fooled! If you fall for his words, we all die!"
One assassin charged, wild with desperation.
Sshk.
Yun Cheon's saber flashed once, and the man's neck twisted away, hollow and weightless.
Thud.
Almost simultaneously, another killer gritted his teeth, drew a poisoned needle from his breast, and tried to drive it under his own tongue.
"You mad—!"
Baekri Hyeon reflexively hurled his judge's brush, and the steel tip punched through the back of the man's hand. The poisoned needle clattered to the ground.
At the sight, the remaining killers went ghost-pale.
Attack to the end, and you die. Even suicide was no longer easy. And there was no leader left to obey.
Only then—
CLANG!
One of them finally threw down his sword.
"I... I'd rather confess and live than be discarded as a throwaway...!"
"You idiot—!"
The assassin beside him lunged, spitting curses — but Yun Cheon's dart was faster, punching through the man's throat.
Thwack.
Silence.
Only then did the second sword fall. Then a third.
Some gnashed their teeth to the very last. Some rolled their eyes, hunting for a way to live. Some simply bowed their heads at last.
But the fracture that had spread through Poison Fang Hall's ranks could no longer be sealed. Their encirclement collapsed long before their blades did.
Yun Cheon watched it all with flat indifference, then called out to the man standing frozen in a daze.
"Baekri Hyeon."
"Uh... huh? No — I mean, yes?"
Baekri Hyeon was half in a trance. He had believed Yun Cheon to be a patient of Severed Meridian Syndrome — and now he was overwhelmed by the sight of him carving through assassins and commanding the entire battlefield.
"What are you doing? Seal their meridians and restrain them completely."
"Y-yes... sir! Right away!"
Baekri Hyeon scrambled for his judge's brush and rushed at the captives.
Meanwhile, pinned by Ma Chung and forced to watch everything unfold, the Hall Master's eyes went bloodshot.
"You... bastards! I ordered you to cut him down ready to die together, and instead you surrender?!"
His rage and desperation at their absolute peak, he seized the opening in Ma Chung's guard and hurled his full weight behind a heavy palm strike.
CRACK!
"Kugh! Hrk—!"
Ma Chung took the internal injury and spat blood. In that instant, the Hall Master tore himself free and hurled himself toward the forest.
I must live! I must live and warn the family...!
He was just sinking into the darkness, relief flooding through him, when—
Out of that darkness, a single hand steeped in cold killing intent shot out.
Clamp.
Something radiating frost-cold bloodlust pressed against the Hall Master's throat.
"That's far enough."
A low, dry voice. Blood trickled down from where the edge had nicked his neck.
Before he could even think of resisting, a colossal internal force slammed into his carotid artery.
"Kkh...!"
Unable even to scream, the Hall Master crumpled unconscious to the ground.
Ma Chung came stomping over, clutching his chest and wheezing.
"Damn it — one step slower and we'd have lost him."
The figure emerging from the darkness was Senior Drill Instructor Ya Jin, clad in robes black as the void. He idly nudged the fallen Hall Master with his foot as though moving a sack of cargo, then chuckled at Ma Chung.
"Can't even eat a meal someone's set out for you?"
"Watch it...! Yun Cheon will know the credit is mine!"
Ma Chung huffed indignantly for a moment, then abruptly changed his expression and bellowed toward Yun Cheon with theatrical pride.
"Yun Cheon! Over here!"
Yun Cheon walked slowly toward them. Despite his injuries, Ma Chung cared nothing for them, too busy boasting of his own accomplishment.
"Listen, Yun Cheon — you do realize how big my contribution was, holding that leader in place?"
Yun Cheon sheathed the bloodstained saber and nodded.
"Of course, Instructor. Thanks to you holding him, the rest went smoothly."
At that moment, the man standing atop the unconscious Hall Master cut in with a deliberately solemn face.
"Heh heh... But do remember who actually captured the man. Without the Shadowless Killing Sect's touch, he would have escaped."
Yun Cheon's gaze turned to the speaker.
"Is that so, Senior Drill Instructor Ya Jin?"
Standing beside Ma Chung was none other than Ya Jin himself. The two drill instructors stood eyeing each other warily, both watching Yun Cheon.
Looking at the pair, Yun Cheon gave a wry smile inwardly.
...He set two snares. They worked a little too well, if anything.
The Serpent Scorpion Muk Family, digging their own grave without knowing it, had tried to bribe Drill Instructor Ma Chung. Thanks to that, Yun Cheon had learned of the plan to plant a mole inside him well in advance.
All that remained now was to strike down the hand behind this affair.
Yun Cheon's gaze fixed on the unconscious Hall Master.
"Let us pay a visit to the Pavilion Master's office together."
Ma Chung and Ya Jin exchanged puzzled looks, but Yun Cheon's expression brimmed with certainty.
"We will kneel that man before the Pavilion Master — and then we will destroy the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family."
Yun Cheon's eyes sank, cold and deep.
"With the Inspection Bureau as the blade."
Return of the Cloud Dragon
Author | Chu Sang (Autumn Frost)
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dreambooks
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