The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 1063

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 1063

“Hmm….”

For the first time in my life, I held another human’s body in my arms. It was so light it seemed to float away, yet so soft it felt like it might crumble—moving my arms was difficult.

“Your expression is strange. At this rate… Ugh!”

Mother furrowed her brow and placed her hand on her temple.

“It’s still useless. All you can do is watch!”

A conversation of souls. Mother couldn’t completely devour souls like I could, so occasionally the body’s owner would resist like this. Of course, that resistance would fade soon enough.

“You can do it, right?”

Mother locked the body’s owner in the depths of the soul realm and gripped my shoulders.

“Of course.”

I ignored the foul stench smoldering deep within my chest. I nodded readily, burning with the desire to see Mother’s smiling face once more.

*

*

*

I headed toward Zigheart with Martha. The memory fragments had taken hold properly, and she regarded me as her benefactor.

“Um, is this really the right place…?”

Martha’s hands trembled as she gazed up at the colossal gate that seemed to touch the heavens. I felt the same way, but with Denier’s memories and emotions woven through my mind, I nodded with composure.

“It will be fine.”

I grasped Martha’s small hand firmly and crossed through the great Main Gate of Zigheart, entering the Audience Chamber where Glen awaited.

Glen Zigheart, the Northern Destruction King. The man regarded as the strongest among the leaders of the Six Emperors Five Demons possessed an aura and presence so overwhelming that it sent chills down my spine.
His sword seemed poised to fall upon my head at any moment, and a cold shiver ran down my back.

“What about that child?”

Glen first asked about Martha.

“She is a child who lost her village and parents to the White Blood Cult. I rescued her after she was tracking the White Blood Cult alone and found herself in a dangerous situation, and brought her here.”

I explained that I brought Martha with me because I feared she would surely perish at the hands of the White Blood Cult if left alone.

“Her swordsmanship talent is not lacking, and her character is pure. I wish to take her under my wing.”

I spoke as Mother had instructed, expressing my desire to make Martha my adopted daughter, and bowed my head.

“M-my name is Martha.”

Martha, sensing that the conversation was about her, knelt beside me.

“….”

Glen simply gazed at Martha and me in silence.

“Denier.”
“Yes.”

I felt my heart—not my own, but someone else’s—pounding fiercely as I lifted my head.

“It is a heavy burden. If you are to do this, bear the responsibility to the very end.”

Glen nodded as if granting his permission.

I had prepared several responses suited to Denier’s temperament in case he refused, but Glen gave his approval without hesitation.
It seemed not out of indifference, but because he trusted me—or rather, trusted Denier.

“I understand. I will bear the responsibility to the very end.”

Responsibility. I nodded without fully grasping how heavy that word truly was.

*

*

*

The Hyunmu Division was a place where warm-hearted people gathered, befitting a faction under Denier’s leadership.

However….

“Get out!”

Martha could not show affection to the people of the Hyunmu Division.

She cursed at the handmaidens, shoved away the butlers, and always wore a scowl.

Not because she was an evil person. In her eyes now, every person in the world appeared to be a White Blood Cult member hiding their true identity.

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

I held Martha close as she wept while lashing out at the people around her, assuring her that everything would be fine.

Whether Mother’s memory manipulation had taken effect, Martha was the only one who followed me faithfully.
Though there were moments of awkwardness or hesitation, she never pulled away from my touch.

Human warmth was more comforting than the heat of a furnace. Through Martha, I came to understand humanity a little better.
As I helped Mother with her work, I found joy in myself as well—those were happy times.

Yet alongside that happiness came the spiritual torment of deceiving Martha and everyone at Zigheart. It felt like the ethereal presence of human conscience.

I lived as Martha’s father and master of the Hyunmu Division, visiting Mother whenever I departed on missions.

I shared information about Zigheart, drank Mother’s blood and the blood of martial artists to accumulate the strength and experience I needed as one of the 13 Apostles.

“Magnificent!”

Mother always praised me. That smile dulled the blade of conscience ever so slightly.

“Father!”

Martha would come out to the Main Gate to greet me every time I returned from completing a mission.
It felt genuinely fulfilling to have a daughter, but the blade of conscience that Mother had dulled sharpened once more, piercing my soul with renewed anguish.

As my soul accumulated these wounds, I heard that Martha had been broken by Raon.

I went to comfort her, but contrary to my expectations, she didn’t grow angry. Instead, with a relieved expression, she cut her hair short.

After that day, Martha changed. She began to trust Raon, found a master to follow with her heart, and gained friends bound by camaraderie.

My insides churned so violently that I couldn’t sleep.

My daughter—the precious child I had raised without letting a single drop of water touch her hands—was now trusting people other than me. It infuriated me.

Jealousy. For the first time, I felt that emotion. I was angry, but in that anger, I became a little more human.

Since I had always thought of myself as Martha’s true father, the jealousy didn’t last long. I simply wished for Martha to live happily.
The part about how Martha might one day become Mother’s new vessel—I buried that deep beneath my memories.

Every time Martha smiled, I felt a happiness as if I had truly given birth to that child.
Even the quarrels with Karun and Valdemar’s foolish remarks brought me joy, and seeing my subordinates follow me filled me with an incomparable sense of fulfillment.

Living in Zigheart, I was no longer the blood clot called Number 3,444—I was becoming human.

Yet the more affection I developed for Zigheart, the deeper the anguish that consumed me became.

Loving Mother as much as I did, I had come to love Martha and this family just as deeply. Because of this, I couldn’t form a clear judgment about what I should do.

Life as a 13 Apostle, life as Denier, life as a father, and life as Number 3,444.
Born as a monster, raised as a monster, and having learned society through human memories—I don’t know how to find the answer.

While I was caught in this endless anguish, I happened to overhear a conversation between Raon and Glen Zigheart.

Truth be told, I had felt some jealousy because of Martha, but I had little genuine interest in Raon himself. To maintain my act as Denier, I only occasionally cast pitying glances his way.

Even when Raon was kidnapped by Eden and a three-way battle erupted between Eden, the White Blood Cult, and Zigheart, I was performing a different mission and gave him little thought.

But when I heard Raon’s objective, I received a tremendous shock.

Sylvia’s return to the Main Lineage.

Everyone from Zigheart would burst into laughter at those words.

And for good reason—prestigious families maintained vast chasms between the Direct Line and Branch Family, making them utterly unreachable.
Especially Sylvia, who had cast off the Direct Line herself before returning, made it seem like an impossible feat.

Yet Raon spoke of that impossibility aloud, worked tirelessly, and eventually accumulated achievements that even the Direct Line members who despised him had to acknowledge—restoring Sylvia to the Direct Line.

It was astonishing. The common sense of humanity I had known shattered before my eyes.

I admired Raon’s drive to move his body first, to act before deliberating.

From the day Raon became part of Zigheart’s Direct Line, I always watched over him.

“Raon Zigheart has become a member of Zigheart’s Direct Line. And the information from the Bi-Yeon Society is….”

For the first time, I fed false information to my mother.

It was fortunate that there were no White Blood Cult spies in Zigheart’s upper echelons—had Rageji’s worm been inside me, I would have died long ago.

“Well done.”

Mother nodded and smiled at me, even as I lied to her.
Yet her smile was strangely different from before—hollow, devoid of satisfaction. As if no emotion existed within it at all.

“Ah, there is one more thing. This time, from the Central Intelligence Agency….”

I continued speaking to Mother, unveiling new information.

“I see. We should remove the Cult Leader from that position. Well done.

Mother smiled again, but that smile too was hollow—merely a facade presented for my sake.

Now that I think about it….

Mother had been repeating only “well done” to me for some time now. I had never heard her speak the words a real mother would say.

Feeling the emptiness in Mother’s smile and words, the image of Martha—who always welcomed me with a radiant, genuine smile—surfaced in my mind.
The contrast was so stark that my heart ached with a piercing sorrow.

From that day forward, I manipulated the information I provided to my mother, careful never to let the truth slip through.

Living two lives was agonizing and exhausting, yet seeing Martha’s smile made every ounce of pain vanish.

I erased my blood qi and developed a martial technique capable of suppressing my mother’s soul, which I then taught to Martha. It was a difficult technique, but she followed my instruction faithfully.

“Martha.”

After finishing our sword training, I called her name while we shared a meal together.

“Yes?”

Martha smiled with her eyes, her lips smeared with pasta sauce—a smile she showed only to me.

“It’s just…”

I wanted to tell her. That I wasn’t the real Denier Zigheart, but an artificial being created by the White Blood Cult Master.
That despite this, I had come to think of her as my true daughter.

“Never mind.”

I shook my head with a light laugh, unable to speak. The thought of Martha’s smile transforming into anger and disgust was unbearable.

“Your food is rather bland, isn’t it?”
“I do prefer things on the milder side.”

I redirected the conversation with meaningless words, biting my tongue in secret.

I was managing to endure for now, but what would happen when my mother summoned me as one of the 13 Apostles? The anxiety was suffocating.

I was a coward who wished to see neither my mother’s disappointment nor Martha’s.

In a strange way, I was grateful not to have known about today’s war with the White Blood Sect.
Had I known, I would have been tormented endlessly by the question of whether to tell my mother or keep silent.

Truth be told, I had no desire to participate in the war itself, so when Glen didn’t summon the Hyunmu Division, I felt genuine relief.

But watching Martha cut down the Blood Ghosts with fierce cries, my soul trembled violently.

“Martha…”

Martha’s face bore a demonic expression, but tears streamed silently within. It was a visage only I, who had raised her since childhood, could truly recognize.
Watching Martha’s anguished sobs, I finally concluded the choice I had agonized over for so long. I understood where I needed to go.

Glen Zigheart. The man who had not fathered me but treated me as his son—he had sent me and the Hyunmu Division to the battlefield with eyes full of trust. All while saying I should help Martha.

I recalled what he had said when adopting Martha.

Responsibility.

Yes. I had to bear responsibility as a father.

I had aided Martha in facing the 10th Apostle, and ultimately, she had achieved her own revenge.

“I want to apologize to you…”

The 10th Apostle looked at Martha and me, offered his apology, then collapsed. It seemed he was apologizing not only to Martha, but also to me—someone forced to live a false existence.

After closing the 10th Apostle’s eyes, Martha and I rushed toward the battlefield where Mother and the Five Emperors’ transcendents clashed.

Mother was engaged in a far more perilous battle than I had anticipated, and she fell into critical danger because of Raon.
To avoid death, she invoked the word she had originally prepared for Glen—the very word I had desperately hoped never to hear.

“Come!”

A summons for me as the 13th Apostle. Mother called me to kill Lecross, the most threatening presence on this battlefield.

Whoooosh!

I finally shed Denier’s guise and became the Thirteenth Apostle, driving my blade into Lecross’s chest from behind.

In truth, Valdemar’s dagger was too slow to interfere with my strike. That I did not kill Lecross was my own choice.

I threw the dying Lecross to Raon, then seized Martha—who might have committed a reckless act—and paralyzed her.

I’m sorry. Truly sorry.

I could not properly meet my daughter’s eyes, which reflected shock and sorrow, yet I could not avoid it.

I retreated behind my mother, still gripping Martha’s leash.

“Give Martha back!”

Raon and the transcendents of the Five Emperors were vicious and formidable. They fought against my mother and me—who had consumed the White Blood Cult Master’s blood—burning not just their aura and mana, but their very life force itself.

Raon Zigheart in particular grew stronger as he fought, leveraging his inhuman growth rate. I had anticipated much, but this aspect was an exception I had not foreseen.

Having sustained grave injuries from Raon, I desperately shoved fallen blood into my mouth to forcibly recover my stamina and survive.

Ultimately, my mother repelled all of Raon and the Five Emperors’ transcendents, but her body had reached its limit and could no longer move.

Mother, contrary to my expectations, said she would seize Martha’s body right here. Everything I had prepared became useless.

“You… I will kill you!”

Martha spewed out the curses she had been holding back toward me.
My daughter’s cry pierced my heart unbearably, yet I had to continue forward for her sake.

I surrendered the cursing Martha to my mother.

My mother, whether truly having achieved spiritual growth or not, shed only drops of blood as she pressed down Martha’s soul and began seeping into her body.

I steeled my resolve as I gazed into Raon’s eyes—eyes that refused to surrender until the very end.

I turned my back, forced blood into Martha’s mouth, and drove my blade straight into the heart of my mother, who sought to crush my daughter’s soul.

Splurrrgh!

My mother, locked in spiritual connection, could not react to my blade and simply offered her chest to it.

“Ah…?”

The moment Martha’s eyes opened, she widened them upon seeing my blade piercing the White Blood Cult Master’s heart.

“In… insane…?”

My mother grasped my blade that had pierced her heart, and for the first time, she furrowed her brow at me.

“What are you doing?!”
“Family and memories are precious beyond measure to humans. We are the demons that steal them away.”

I shook my head, saying I could no longer live like this.

“You fool! Did you think I would simply let you go?”

As Mother’s eyes flashed, an excruciating pain struck me—as if my soul were being smashed against stone.

“Cough!”

I gasped for breath, coughing up blackened blood. Through the crimson spray, I could see fragments of my entrails—she had carved a curse into my very soul to strangle my life force.
Honestly, I had anticipated this.

“What you’ve done now means nothing.”

Mother narrowed her eyes, dismissing it as a waste of time.

“No. It means something. Because I, born as a Monster…”

I lifted the paralysis curse from Martha’s body and grasped her hand tightly, as I had done when she was trapped in nightmares.

“I can die as a human.”

Looking at Martha rather than Mother, I drew a smile infused with Denier’s life.

“Martha. It’s your turn now.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————