The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 1062
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 1062
I was born from blood.
A crimson liquid created by inscribing sorcery into the blood of the wicked woman known as the White Blood Cult Master. That was my soul, and my body.
While humans sucked their fingers in the warm embrace of their mothers’ wombs, I was trapped in a cold glass vessel, subjected to experiments whose purpose I could not fathom.
Countless brothers surrounded me. Like me, they too were imprisoned in glass vessels, crushed beneath sorcery, drinking human blood, burned by flames or frozen in ice.
When my brothers could not endure the experiments, they fell to the floor along with their vessels. Each time I heard the glass shatter, a pain like my very soul being severed tore through me.
Hundreds in a single day. No—hundreds of brothers vanished, until only a hundred glass vessels remained at the end.
I was fortunate enough to survive countless experiments and preserve my vessel, which had become like home to me.
The humans ceased their experiments and left us confined, abandoned for a considerable time.
It was a tedious and endless stretch. There was so much I did not know, and I wondered who I was, why I was living this existence.
After an immeasurable span of time, the door to the chamber where we were imprisoned opened once more.
Humans clad in pristine white garments dragged in humans bleeding with the same crimson blood as my body, gripping them by the hair.
“Begin.”
The Pale-faced Man shoved my brother from the first vessel into the mouth of a human missing an arm.
“Aaaaaaahhhhh!”
The armless human shrieked with such force that the entire chamber trembled, clawing at his own throat with his fingernails before collapsing. I felt his vitality slowly fade away. My brother, too, dissolved within the human’s body, vanishing without a trace.
I could feel his vitality slowly fading away. My brother, too, disappeared without a trace, as if he had melted away inside a human body.
“He’s dead. Get rid of it.”
As if the Pale-faced Man had expected as much, he waved his hand dismissively, and the men in white clothes threw the one-armed man outside without moving any further.
‘Dead.’ Through that word, I came to understand what death truly was.
“Next.”
The Pale-faced Man’s jaw twitched, and the second brother entered the body of a white-haired human.
Just like the first, the white-haired human coughed blood, collapsed, and breathed no more.
I realized the experiment had begun again, and my body trembled within the glass vessel.
Now that I understood death, I did not wish to die.
The first brother vanished, and the first human perished.
The second brother vanished, and the second human perished.
Thus ninety-nine experiments continued, and finally, only I remained.
“Inject it.”
The Pale-faced Man furrowed his brow as if surrendering all hope, his hand falling limply to his side.
I was held in the hand of a man dressed in white and thrust into the body of the smallest human.
As I passed through the warm throat, my body spread throughout the human’s entire form against my will.
My flesh, composed of blood, drained the human’s blood entirely, and devoured even the soul they possessed.
It was not my will. The instinct I was born with consumed everything of the human.
The life the small-framed human had lived flashed through my consciousness.
Most were fragmented memories that surfaced like bubbles before vanishing, yet I came to understand, however slightly, what a human’s life truly was.
“A complete failure.”
The Pale-faced Man sighed, believing I had died like my other brothers.
What is this?
I felt the human’s words resonate not through my soul, but through the flesh itself—a sensation entirely foreign to anything I had experienced before.
“Tsk, what am I to tell him about this?”
Just as he clicked his tongue in frustration, I opened my eyes.
Using the memories I had gleaned from the small-framed human, I naturally moved my arms and legs to lift myself upright.
I had entered the human’s body and now controlled it completely.
“Wh…?”
The Pale-faced Man stared at me with wide eyes.
“What, what is this!”
His jaw trembled as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Huh…?”
“Did it… succeed?”
“This was actually possible…?”
“Then who is that?”
Not only the Pale-faced Man, but the humans in white robes throughout the chamber gasped in astonishment at the sight of me.
“Who are you.”
The pale man asked, seeking to know my identity.
Though I had only fragments of the human’s memories, I understood that his words were asking for a name.
This young human’s name was Raewen, but that was not a name that belonged to me.
“Four thousand four hundred forty-four…”
I spoke the number from the glass vessel that had imprisoned me.
“Four thousand four hundred forty-four? Kahahahahaha!”
The Pale-faced Man confirmed the number on the glass vessel that had contained me, then erupted into laughter so loud it seemed his ears might burst.
“Bring him here! At once!”
*
*
*
I stood face to face with a woman of golden hair and blue eyes.
Screeeech!
I felt my soul crying out harshly that it must return to this woman. I could instinctively understand it—that I had been born from this golden-haired woman.
In the words that existed within human memory, she was undoubtedly a mother.
“Did it really succeed?”
Mother narrowed her eyes skeptically, as if she couldn’t believe the Pale-faced Man’s words.
“Yes. He stated it himself—five thousand four hundred and forty-four times.”
The Pale-faced Man shook the glass bottle that had contained me.
“Who are you?”
Mother looked down at me with curious eyes.
“Mother.”
I did not resist the violent resonance of my soul and spoke the word—mother.
“Have you lost your mind!”
The Pale-faced Man glared at me with furrowed brows. The moment his gaze fell upon me, my entire body trembled and I could not breathe.
“Leave him be.”
Mother waved her hand dismissively, and the Pale-faced Man bowed his head and stepped back.
“It’s not wrong, is it? This child was born from my blood.”
She nodded as if it was perfectly acceptable to call her that.
“Ah….”
I was elated. My existence was recognized by Mother. The fact that my being—withering away trapped in a glass bottle—had finally earned her acknowledgment filled me with such profound joy. This must be what emotion felt like.
“My… my name…?”
I was about to ask Mother to give me a name when the human body ceased to obey my will and collapsed beneath me.
“Wh—?”
Not a single finger would move, and I could not draw breath. Agony that twisted my very soul flooded my consciousness.
“Gasp! W-what is this!”
The Pale-faced Man trembled, his hands quivering as though he had never anticipated such a turn of events.
“…”
Mother said nothing, merely watching me die with cold, unfeeling eyes.
I must survive! I had only just been acknowledged—I cannot die now!
Having lived as an existence I did not even understand, I had finally found Mother, who saw me. I could not—would not—perish.
Crackle, crackle, crackle!
I tore myself free from the human body that refused to release my soul, crawling up through the throat in reverse of how I had first entered, and burst forth into the open air.
Splooosh.
Like at my birth, I became crimson blood once more, flowing down onto the glass-strewn floor.
“It seems that body was incompatible with your essence.”
Mother reached down with her own hands, gathered me together, and placed me into the sole unbroken glass bottle—the four hundred and forty-fourth.
“I shall soon find a body suited to you.”
She gazed at me rippling within the glass bottle and painted a crimson smile across her face.
“I bestow upon you the thirteenth name.”
*
*
*
From that day forward, I entered the bodies of different humans daily, seized control, and absorbed their memories and knowledge.
Whether brief or prolonged, human flesh could not withstand me—it shattered like my brothers’ glass vessels, fragmenting into countless pieces.
Each time, agony so intense I wished for death washed over me, yet I endured it by thinking of Mother.
After so much time had passed that I could no longer remember, a man with an aristocratic bearing was dragged before me.
The man with crimson eyes like my own soul possessed a will and composure far more steadfast than any human I had witnessed before.
“This is your final chance. Denier Zigheart.”
Mother, now inhabiting the body of a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, placed her finger upon the forehead of the man called Denier.
“Answer my question. Zigheart is….”
“Kill me.”
Denier Zigheart shook his head calmly, as though he truly meant it.
“I am the Master of Hyeonmu Hall of Zigheart. Rather than commit an act that brings harm to my family, I will sever my own breath here.”
He lifted his luminous eyes, showing no fear of death itself.
Die?
It was a shock. Every human dragged to this place had clung to our robes and cried out for mercy.
I had believed that was the law of this world, so I never imagined someone like him could exist.
“There’s no choice then.”
Mother clicked her tongue briefly and seized the glass vessel containing me.
“Enter this human’s body, read his memories, and return.”
She commanded me to uncover every last detail about Zigheart, no matter how trivial, then forced me into the mouth of the man called Denier.
Zzzzzzzzzzzt!
The moment my soul descended through Denier’s throat and entered his body, I felt it.
My soul and this man’s flesh interlocked perfectly, like gears grinding together.
I could now understand that Denier was the body whose resonance matched what my mother had spoken of.
“Grrrraaaaahhh!”
Denier resisted fiercely, as if he would never surrender his body. His soul was vaster and more solid than any human I had ever encountered, with no cracks or weaknesses to exploit.
But I was born from my mother for this very purpose—to devour human souls and seize their flesh.
I consumed Denier Zigheart’s entire life piece by piece, making his memories and strength my own.
Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!
Even as his soul was being carved away and consumed, Denier refused to yield, fighting to the bitter end.
The agony must have been unbearable—a pain so severe that even death would struggle to match it—yet I couldn’t fathom how he endured. I had never encountered a human like this before.
Uuuuuuuung.
Because the body and resonance were perfectly aligned, the fragmented human memories I could only read in pieces now felt as vivid as my own lived experiences.
I could absorb all of Denier’s memories into my mind as if I had lived alongside him.
The body was no different. Unlike the other humans’ flesh, which had carried a rough sense of rejection, I could now feel every sensation with exquisite clarity—from my fingertips to the very tips of my hair. I had truly become human.
So I was born in the White Blood Sect.
Zigheart of the Six Emperors and the White Blood Sect of Oma.
Through the memories I obtained from Denier, I finally understood where I was and who this man called Denier truly was.
Denier Zigheart was born into the prestigious Zigheart swordsmanship family as a direct descendant, yet he possessed a gentle and virtuous nature.
His goal was to build a good family and clan before becoming stronger with the sword.
Glen, the Head of House and his father, had abandoned his humanity in his obsession with the blade. His older sister had embarked on a long journey, despising the coldness of the family. His older brother followed their father’s path, casting aside his own children.
His youngest sister had left home to marry, only to return as if fleeing. His one younger brother was a fool.
A dysfunctional family—the archetypal image of a ruined household that only appeared in stories. Now I understood why Denier yearned for a good family.
However, Denier had always lacked ability compared to his siblings, so few people heeded his voice.
Instead, he only heard the contemptuous epithet of a coward who had fled the Head of House competition.
Yet Denier never gave up. Desperate to save the crumbling Zigheart by any means, he undertook countless missions alone until misfortune caught him in his mother’s grasp and dragged him to this place.
Strangely, my chest ached. I realized I had not merely inherited Denier Zigheart’s memories—I had absorbed his emotions as well.
How different it was.
Is this what a true human life looks like?
I had always considered myself human because I was born of my mother. But reading Denier’s memories, I sensed something twisted within me. I was not human—I was a monster.
“Mother. I….”
“Just as I thought you would!”
My mother beamed at me with the confidence of one whose expectations had been met.
“How far did you read into Denier’s memories? Tell me!”
She nodded eagerly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“Remarkably, I obtained all of his memories.”
I wanted to see my mother smile more, to hear her praise. So I set aside my doubts and told her I had acquired every one of Denier’s memories.
“Truly?”
My mother exclaimed that I was magnificent and gripped my shoulders. I felt my soul tremble violently with elation.
“Then tell me everything!”
“Yes. First, the current state of Zigheart is….”
Because I had inherited not only Denier’s memories but his emotions as well, I knew that speaking these words would unleash calamity upon this world.
Yet to be of any help to my mother, I disclosed all the information I had come to know.
Strangely, I felt no hesitation whatsoever in revealing the thoughts Denier had kept hidden within himself.
“Well done! Truly well done!”
Mother embraced me with both arms. That alone was enough to wash away the guilt I felt over my transgression.
“Try to maintain that form for a while. If you can do that, I’ll be able to devise a new plan.”
Mother made her request and left the room.
To honor Mother’s wish, I spent a long time burrowing deeper into Denier’s flesh.
I felt my body and soul, woven from blood, merge as one with the crimson essence flowing through Denier’s veins.
Now I no longer knew how to escape this body. Perhaps when Denier died, I would die as well, but I harbored no regrets.
“Excellent.”
After a month had passed, Mother gazed upon me maintaining this form and smiled with satisfaction.
“You can mimic Denier’s swordsmanship, his manner of speech, his mannerisms?”
“Yes.”
I had absorbed all of Denier’s memories and emotions, so I could replicate his swordsmanship, his words, and his actions.
I demonstrated to Mother everything I had cultivated during this time.
“Perfect.”
Mother applauded as she watched me perform as Denier, her joy unmistakable.
“From now on, your name is Denier Zigheart. Live by that name until I call you otherwise.”
She nodded, affirming that my name was now Denier.
“Yes!”
I was happy. Receiving a name from Mother, seeing her joy—it was all happiness.
I laughed, unaware of the sinister emotion writhing beneath my soul.
“And….”
As Mother flicked her fingertips, the 10th Apostle brought forth a young girl who appeared to be no more than ten years old.
She bore a striking resemblance to the body Mother currently inhabited.
“She is marked as my next vessel. Since she hails from the Destroyed Village that fell to us, if you claim to have found and rescued her yourself, it will serve as an excuse for your prolonged silence until now.”
Mother nodded, instructing me to take this girl to Zigheart and adopt her as a foster daughter.
“She was originally dragged away alongside her mother, but I’ve manipulated her memories to believe she alone survived the village.”
She laughed, saying that since this memory manipulation was not achieved through sorcery, even Glen would not be able to detect it.
“You manipulated her memories, you say?”
“Indeed. I implanted memories of her being the sole survivor of a village attacked by us, seeking revenge before being rescued by you. As long as you maintain your act as Denier, she will be easy to control.”
Mother said it would be simple and handed over the girl named Martha. That was the beginning of my first meeting with Martha.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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