The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 1068

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

Chapter 1068

“Please… wake up…”

Martha clutched Denier’s hand tightly as she called out for her father, but his time had already come to an end.

-Tsk.

Wrath clicked his tongue softly, as if lamenting the turn of events.

-So that strange fellow ended up leaving as the father of the beef girl, after all.

He furrowed his brow, musing that Denier’s betrayal must have had its reasons.

‘That’s probably true.’

I exhaled softly.

‘Martha saw Denier’s memories.’

Denier had passed his memories to Martha, and she had read them before accepting him as her father once more. Within those memories lay countless stories I could never fully comprehend.
There were many circumstances woven together that I would never understand.

-I’m curious what kind of life that fellow lived.

Wrath smacked his lips, wondering what sort of existence could lead someone to betray again and again.

‘I’m not entirely sure myself.’

Since I had only ever viewed Denier as a villain similar to Derus Robert, the events unfolding today were bewildering in many ways.

‘But one thing is certain.’

I clasped my hands together as I gazed at Denier cradled in Martha’s arms.

‘That man is Martha’s father, just as you said.’
-Indeed. The oath binding the beef girl’s soul was harder to unravel than a transcendent curse, yet that fellow carried it many times over. Such a feat is impossible for a human mind to achieve.

Wrath nodded heavily, saying it was possible because he was Father’s heart.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!”
“….”

Lunan Slion approached Martha without a word as she wept, quietly offering his shoulder.

“Hic…”

Martha, understanding his gesture, bit her lip and leaned against him. The two who had once seemed like rivals had become friends who no longer needed words.

“Is it over…?”

Burren Zigheart gazed up at the still-darkening sky and exhaled a long breath.

“This war was far more exhausting than I expected.”

Both physically and mentally drained, he simply collapsed where he stood.

“I… I’m still terrified….”

Dorian’s eyes darted left and right.

“The… the White Blood Cult Master might resurrect and attack us right now….”

He swallowed hard, fearing the White Blood Cult Master would return and come for them.

“Don’t speak such nonsense! You’ll jinx us!”

Crain furrowed his brow and kicked Dorian.

“It’s not entirely unreasonable to think that way.”

Raon chuckled softly, acknowledging Dorian’s concern.

“She was relentless.”

Normally he would have struck Dorian for such talk, but having witnessed the White Blood Cult Master’s obsessive grip on life, he understood the fear.

“Unlike that coward, I handled it with ease! The White Blood Cult is nothing special!”

Crain thrust his chest forward, eager to boast now that everything was over.

“Something felt off to me.”

Trevin turned away, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Off? What do you mean?”

I tilted my head, regarding Trevin curiously.

“Every time we faced a dangerous situation, buildings collapsed or the earth split open—yet somehow opportunity emerged from the chaos. Suddenly our aura surged back to life, allowing us to aid the Gale Wind Hall. As a result, they have many wounded, but no casualties. The luck has been almost absurd.”

Trevin was suspicious of this situation, noting how impossibly perfectly the timing had aligned and how fortunate the circumstances had been.

‘He’s not wrong.’

I narrowed my eyes and surveyed my surroundings.

‘I’ve experienced something similar myself.’

When I blocked Mara Blood-Eating Avalokitesvara while depleted of strength, there were moments when her movements would slow.
I’d assumed it was because her blood essence was nearly exhausted, but now that I reflected on it, that didn’t seem to be the only reason.

‘And besides…’

The recovery of our aura clearly meant someone had intervened.

The Gale Wind Hall swordsmen had said they suddenly gained the strength to resist Mara Blood-Eating Avalokitesvara because their aura surged back.
At the time, we were too urgent to dwell on it, but anyone could see that was artificial.

‘Do you know anything about this?’

I nudged Wrath with my elbow.

-The True Demon King knows not.

Wrath turned away, whistling. Whether he knew or not, he had no intention of telling me.

‘I don’t even have the strength to unfold my perception.’

With my aura and stamina depleted, I could barely stand, let alone extend my senses.

“Ugh…”

As I surveyed my surroundings with a heavy sigh, Evelyn clutched her waist and pushed herself upright.

“Evelyn. Are you alright?”

My trembling legs, drained of strength, carried me toward her.

“No, I’m not alright.”

Evelyn spat out the blood pooling in her mouth and shook her head.

“My head feels like it’s shattered, my heart feels like it’s burst, and my limbs won’t respond properly.”
-Then you should already be dead!

Wrath shook his head, saying it made no sense.

“Let me at least administer first aid.”
“That treatment…?”

As I reached for an internal injury elixir to give Evelyn, she stretched both arms toward me.

“If you just hold me, everything will be fine, don’t you think?”

Evelyn’s violet eyes gleamed as she insisted that was all she needed.

“I’m sorry, but…”

I raised my hand and pushed away the approaching Evelyn.

“Now isn’t the time for that.”

I shook my head briefly and pointed to Martha, who was still holding onto Denier.

“Ah…”

Evelyn let out a low groan as she finally seemed to perceive what was happening on the other side.

-A mad woman is a mad woman….

Wrath shook his head, saying that while Evelyn looked good at first, she became distasteful.

“I don’t know how things unfolded, but in the end, the White Blood Cult Master died by your heart sword, right?”

Evelyn laughed, as if she didn’t know the process but understood the result.

“No.”

I shook my head firmly.

“Those two accomplished it. I merely helped them.”

I pointed to Martha and Denier, repeating the words Rimer had once said to me.

“I see.”

Evelyn closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, as if she grasped the general sense of things.

“You’ve worked hard. Without you, we could never have brought down the White Blood Cult.”

I bowed sincerely to Evelyn.

“Thank you, Evelyn.”
“Don’t say thank you between us!”

Evelyn waved her hand, telling me not to offer such greetings. I wanted to ask what “between us” meant, but I was afraid to ask.

“So only two remain now?”

It was when she extended her index and middle fingers.

“Where are the patients!”

The Medical Tent prepared by the Five Emperors Alliance rushed over with an urgent expression.

“P-please look at this one first!”
“Over here!”
“They’ve lost consciousness, and their breathing is shallow!”

The Gwangpung Hall physicians pointed to the transcendents of the Five Emperors they had been tending to, along with Valdemar.

“Y-Your Majesty…”
“This is not good.”
“We need to take emergency measures immediately!”

The healers and high priests broke into cold sweat on their foreheads, realizing their abilities alone would not suffice to handle this.

“The Saint of Nenma and the Saint will arrive soon! Do everything you can!”

They moved their hands swiftly, determined to hold on until Pedrick and Olga returned from treating the others.

“I-I’m afraid this person has already passed away.”
“What?”

I turned around quickly upon hearing those words.

“Please check again anyway!”

Martha was dragging the healer and high priest over to examine Denier.

“W-we’re terribly sorry.”
“This is beyond what we can do…”

The healer and high priest shook their heads apologetically.

“Ugh…”

Martha grasped Denier’s hand again and bit her lip. She was not yet ready to let her father go.

“However, this person should be able to recover.”

The high priest approached Martha’s Mother and began channeling sacred power, unfolding healing magic.

A resonant hum filled the air.

As divine power and healing magic enveloped Martha’s Mother, her pallid complexion gradually flushed with color.

“Mmm….”

A faint whimper escaped from Martha’s Mother’s lips.

“Huh…?”

The moment Martha heard that voice, she turned her head and widened her eyes.

“Mother? Mother?”

She approached her mother while carefully cradling Denier in her arms.

“Mother! Are you awake?”

Martha trembled with her lips, afraid this moment—like a dream—would shatter and fade away, unable to bring herself to touch her mother.

“M-Martha….”

Martha’s Mother recognized her daughter in her adult form at once and offered a faint smile.

“You… you recognize me?”

Martha’s eyes, already reddened, filled with fresh tears—she had been worried that her mother wouldn’t recognize her now that she had grown from a child into a woman.

“Of course. Your mother knows everything.”

Martha’s Mother nodded with difficulty, as if questioning why Martha would even ask such a thing.

“Mother…. Mother!”

Martha called out the name she had been holding back and embraced her mother.

“My daughter. You’ve endured so much, haven’t you?”

Martha’s Mother patted her daughter’s back as if she understood everything.

“No. You suffered far more….”

Martha found herself unable to continue speaking, as emotions she had suppressed for over twenty years surged forth like a breaking tide.

“But….”

Martha’s Mother exhaled sharply as she gazed at Denier.

“What happened with that man?”

She shook her head, saying that even though she had witnessed it through the White Blood Cult Master’s body, she still couldn’t comprehend it.

“My father.”

Martha spoke without the slightest hesitation.

“Just as Mother gave birth to me, Father is the one who raised me.”

She painted a radiant smile across her face, as if taking pride in this truth while wiping away her sorrow.

….

I exhaled a white breath as I watched Martha’s smile, woven together with both sadness and love.

‘One departs, and another arrives.’

In the cycle of life, parting and reunion are inseparable—those who leave must eventually return. Martha would overcome today’s sorrow and grow further as a person.
Martha will overcome today’s sorrow and be able to grow further as a human being.

“I’m really at my limit now.”

Seeing Martha’s reunion with her mother eased the tension, and my vision blurred. I couldn’t bear any more than this.

I wanted to know about the situation in Zigheart and the standoff between Derus Robert and Darkan, but now my head wasn’t working.

“Thank goodness, Martha.”

Raon slowly fell backward as he watched Martha laughing while crying.

“Yes! Group hugs are awesome!”

As my eyes closed and the world’s sounds faded, someone embraced me and let out a clear, ringing voice.

“….”
-It’s too much. Far too much!

*

*

*

“Hm?”

Ogram raised his trembling hands.

‘My power is returning.’

After the White Blood Cult Master had drained his blood, no amount of training had restored his aura or martial prowess—yet now they were slowly rising within him once more.

‘Did those bastards manage it?’

There was only one reason his martial strength would change after remaining dormant no matter what he attempted: the Five Emperors Alliance had pushed back the White Blood Cult and slain the White Blood Cult Master. That much was certain.

‘At last….’

Ogram clenched his massive fist like stone.

‘I can fight again!’

He had said nothing while the other leaders of the Five Emperors moved, forced to wait on the sidelines—but his pride had been deeply wounded.

Now, at last, he could stand at the vanguard once more as he had in days past. His joy was so profound that his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

“I should inform Derus Robert.”

Ogram lifted his gaze and licked his lips.

‘When he hears that the White Blood Cult Master is dead, he’ll be caught off guard too.’

I was about to raise my voice to provoke Derus when it happened.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

Before I could even blink, dozens of blade clashes erupted through the air.

Derus and Darkan were clashing swords in a realm that transcended my perception.

‘…They were this strong?’

As my power recovered, I could feel the raw might of Derus and Darkan through my skin. The moment I stepped into that exchange, my throat would be severed.

‘Even if I recovered all my power, it would be futile.’

Even if every ounce of strength I’d lost to the White Blood Cult Master were restored, I could never defeat them. Despite being fellow Transcendents, the gap between us was far greater than I’d imagined. My shoulders sagged under the weight of that realization.

‘Damn it….’

As Ogram gnawed at his lips, the blades of Derus and Darkan fell toward each other’s throats.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzng!

With a thunderous roar, a pitch-black fissure tore open between Darkan and Derus. The aura wave was so devastatingly powerful that the balance of the mortal realm itself began to crumble.

“It seems the White Blood Cult Master is dead?”

Even while fighting Derus, Darkan appeared to read Ogram’s condition and tilted his chin.

“You must have expected it, but it’s a shame you didn’t achieve your desired outcome.”

He shrugged mockingly at Derus.

“Not particularly.”

Derus shook his head calmly, as if he’d already known of the White Blood Cult Master’s death.

“Killing you here and seizing your power is the greater gain.”

He twisted his lips into a smile, as though things had worked out even better.

“You dream of the impossible.”

Darkan let out a scoff as he regarded Derus.

“The only blade capable of severing my neck is the Continent’s mightiest sword—Glen Zigheart.”

He lowered his hand, declaring that his current strength would never suffice.

“Of course, you’re not entirely without merit. I never expected anyone else could withstand my blade to this degree.”

Darkan smacked his lips, pleased that he’d agreed to Raon’s request.

“I’ve seen enough of your measure. Now let us fight in earnest.”

He leaned his upper body forward, driving Derus backward as their blades clashed.

A deep, resonant hum filled the air.

The moment Derus retreated, Darkan aimed his black sword directly at his heart.

“Until one of us falls.”

As those chilling words hung in the air, his black sword vanished, replaced by an invisible, formless blade—a heart sword carved from the soul itself.

“A heart sword…”

Derus’s eyes narrowed as he instantly recognized Darkan’s heart sword. Sensing he could not evade it, he planted his feet and raised a blade wreathed in the aura of death.

“Excellent resolve!”

Darkan nodded approvingly and unleashed his heart sword.

A tempestuous surge erupted.

Darkan’s heart sword, raging like a storm, pierced through Derus’s body and burrowed into the soul dwelling within.

A brilliant clash resounded.

Two souls at the pinnacle of transcendence collided, shattering the world’s equilibrium and unfurling a new reality.

Whoooosh.

Darkan’s inner world opened—a space where everything had settled into ashen tones, a realm born from his sword.

“….”

Derus Robert showed no alarm despite being drawn into an unfamiliar space, his gaze remaining serene and composed.

“How boring your reaction is.”

Darkan clicked his tongue briefly in disappointment.

“This place is….”
“Your inner world, I presume.”

Derus Robert nodded slightly, as if he already understood everything.

“Quick on the uptake, then. Here, you and I will cross blades until one of us falls. Of course, that will be you.”

Darkan tilted his head as if asking whether this wasn’t thrilling.

“A space like this….”

Derus Robert tilted his jaw upward at an angle and stepped into True Form. An overwhelming spiritual presence erupted from him, causing the very fabric of the inner world to tremble.

“Can you withstand my soul?”

As Derus Robert’s lips curved into a chilling smile, something pitch-black studded with countless eyes bloomed from behind him, extending endlessly like the branches of the World Tree.

“You….”

Darkan’s jaw trembled as he beheld Derus Robert’s grotesque soul—something that defied any human description.

“Are you truly human?”

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