The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 167

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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 167

My gaze drifted toward the distant Bekmang Mountain. What reflected in my crimson eyes was not the present moment, but that day when I first met Balkan at the Charcoal Kiln, following Rimer.

‘Thanks to him, I was able to master the Mana Forging Technique.’

When I was anxious about not being able to master aura alone at the 5th Training Ground, I obtained a hint from his Charcoal Kiln and learned the Mana Forging Technique. I even reached the second stage in a single attempt.

When the Golden Blade emerged, I heard Balkan say he was grateful, but truly, I was the one who should be grateful.

‘He remembered his promise to forge me a sword….’

To be honest, I would have had no complaints if he had broken that promise. The Golden Blade was a product of chance, but thanks to Balkan, I mastered the Mana Forging Technique and even obtained the cold energy in my hands.

Yet Balkan did not forget that promise and reached out to me again. I was grateful beyond words.

“Will you go?”

Rimer followed my gaze toward Bekmang Mountain and smiled.

“I have to.”

I nodded immediately.

‘I cannot miss such an opportunity.’

Those blacksmiths who have reached the pinnacle of their craft are called Continental Craftsmen or Master Smiths. How could I refuse when a Continental Craftsman—one said to possess skill rivaling even the dwarves—was offering to forge a sword for me personally?

“With you as you are now, I’m sure quite an interesting blade will be created.”

Rimer’s gaze swept across my eyes, arms, and dantian before he grinned.

“Then go to the Village of Blacksmiths. That old man is conditioning his body there.”
“Conditioning his body?”
“Proper sword-forging requires physical strength. He’s been building up his body for you. You’ll be quite surprised when you reach Mirtan.”
“Mirtan….”

I’d heard of it before. It was a village located at the edge of Zigheart’s sphere of influence, known for its strong geothermal activity that attracted numerous master blacksmiths who crafted exceptional weapons and equipment.

“But Raon, there’s something….”

Rimer’s eyes darted back and forth.

“Do you remember who introduced you to that old man?”
“It was you, Commander.”
“Exactly! You can’t forget that. Thanks to me, you obtained a Continent-class blacksmith’s sword!”

He lifted his chin, claiming all the credit for himself. In truth, Balkan crafting the sword had nothing to do with Rimer and everything to do with my own efforts, but I held my tongue for now.

“So here’s the thing… of those gold coins you took, just a little bit. A very small portion for me….”
“That won’t be possible.”

I shook my head firmly.

“You’re too cold, aren’t you? I’m still your commander!”
“If you promise not to gamble, I’ll give you some. But that won’t happen, will it?”
“No, I won’t! I won’t even go near the gambling house!”
“That’s like entrusting a cat with fish. I can’t trust you, Commander.”
“Ugh, I really won’t go, it’s just that I genuinely don’t have money for drinks….”
“Ha….”

Watching Rimer collapse and whimper, I couldn’t help but laugh. Was this man really the swordmaster once called Zigheart’s Mad Blade?

“Sigh….”

I shook my head and pulled ten gold coins from my pocket, extending them toward him.

“This should be enough for your drinks for a while.”
“Oh! That’s plenty! More than enough!”

Rimer sprang to his feet and snatched the coins. Naturally, there wasn’t a trace of tears in his eyes.

“Then everyone, gather the uniforms and swords as instructed and meet again. I’m heading out first!”

He used a movement technique to scale the Training Ground’s stone wall in an instant.

“Ah, Raon! Mirtan isn’t exclusively for Zigheart, so be careful out there!”

Rimer spun his hand in a circular motion before dashing off toward the bustling district, his voice trailing behind him about seeking revenge this time.

-He’s going to lose it all at the Gambling House.

Wrath clicked his tongue while watching the direction Rimer had disappeared.

‘Predictable.’
-You’re giving him money knowing that?
‘It was a test.’
-A test?
‘Yes. Now that I’ve seen his true nature, I’ll never entrust him with money again.’

I smiled coldly. Rimer would never realize that his own actions were tightening the noose around his own neck.

“Raon.”

I turned at the voice from behind. Lunan was looking up at me with a determined expression.

“Are you going to make a sword?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“You’re making a sword too?”
“Yes.”

I had assumed Lunan would receive a sword as a gift from his father, Rokan Slion, so this was unexpected.

“Father gave me materials to make a sword. I’ll share some with you.”

Now that he mentioned it, I recalled him saying something about distributing a gift recently—it must have been the sword-making materials.

“I’m planning to go tomorrow morning. Is that alright?”
“Yes!”
“Then let’s meet here tomorrow at dawn.”
“Okay.”

Lunan nodded vigorously and left the Training Ground, apparently heading off to prepare.

-The ice cream girl’s expression has brightened considerably.
‘Indeed.’

Since that day when I hadn’t seen Sylvia, Lunan’s emotional expressions had gradually increased. Of course, he only showed them in front of me, so others wouldn’t know.

‘I should go too.’

Before crafting a sword, it seemed I needed to place an order for uniforms first.

I headed to the Owhwa Unit with the swordsmen remaining at the Training Ground.

*

*

*

“Hehe.”

A laugh tinged with nobility and elegance. I swallowed dryly as I watched the middle-aged noblewoman before me laughing with her hand covering her mouth.

‘How did things end up like this?’

I had come to the Owhwa Unit with the swordsmen, but somehow they had all dispersed, and I found myself alone in the unit commander’s office.

Without even a proper introduction, I was thrust directly into the commander’s office—this place was far from normal either.

“It’s an honor to meet the vice commander of the Gwangpung Unit in person, whom I’ve only heard rumors about. I am Siran, commander of the Owhwa Unit.”

She bowed gracefully, as if she already knew who I was.

“I am Raon of the Gwangpung Unit, and I am honored to meet you, Commander Siran.”

I suppressed my bewilderment and bowed respectfully.

“It’s my first time seeing your face this close. I knew the people of Zigheart were famous for their appearance, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you, Raon. Even Sylvia was remarkable, but truly, I’m left speechless. Hehe.”

Siran examined my face from every angle, her eyes gleaming as if admiring a work of art, and her endless praise made me deeply uncomfortable.

“…I came to have uniforms made.”

Fearing I wouldn’t make it home today if I let this continue, I stepped back and revealed the purpose of my visit.

“Ah, of course. I heard about it from Rimer. Do you have a particular design in mind?”

Siran pointed to the mannequins behind her. They were covered with uniforms so extravagant they practically screamed the word “flamboyant.”

“I prefer simpler designs to something so elaborate. However, I’d like multiple functional features….”
“Hmm, what a shame though?”

Siran smacked her lips and approached again.

“Your face is far too striking—if you wear a simple uniform, the design will be completely wasted. That’s a greater tragedy than dying by the blade.”
“That’s of no concern to me.”
“It concerns me as the creator. Art must be elevated as art. If you entrust the design to me, I’ll craft something that showcases that face to its fullest potential!”

Siran danced around the room with a radiant smile.

‘Why is there not a single normal person in this place?’

A sigh escaped me. Finding even one properly balanced person in this household was genuinely difficult.

“Very well. Then make it elaborate, but as practical as possible, and ensure the functionality is light with no restrictions on movement.”
“Don’t worry about the functionality. I’ll use spirit threads densely enough that it can withstand blade energy several times over.”
“Spirit threads….”

Spirit threads were materials created by using spirit moths and applying magical refinement to maximize their durability.

Clothing made from such threads would resist blade penetration and gain resistance to elemental attributes—a treasure worth its weight in gold.

“That must be quite expensive then?”
“Normally, spirit threads are only used on vital areas, but since Rimer paid an additional fee, the uniforms for the Gwangpung Unit members have as much spirit thread as possible. Most areas will be covered with it.”
“The unit commander did?”
“He said it was a secret, but I thought the vice commander should know about it, so I mentioned it.”

Siran winked and made a gesture asking me to keep the secret.

“I see.”

Rimer had apparently paid in advance and requested that the finest uniform be made. While he was certainly obsessed with gambling, it was equally clear that he cherished his disciples beyond measure.

‘I simply cannot bring myself to hate him.’

I gazed at the stack of silver coins Siran had laid out, a faint smile crossing my lips.

“Then I’ll take your measurements.”

Siran approached me with a measuring tape in hand. As she touched my arms and legs to record their length, her expression hardened like tree bark.

‘What is this?’

The length of my arms and legs, combined with the density of my muscles, achieved an almost perfect harmony.

In all her years taking measurements of countless people, she had never encountered a physique so close to perfection—not since Glen.

What was even more astonishing was that my body had not yet reached its full maturity.
Despite my growth plates still being open, I already approached the physique of a perfect warrior.

She had doubted the claim that I had defeated Central Intelligence Agency warriors without an aura, but with such a body, it was entirely plausible. I could certainly exhibit strength and speed that transcended human limits.

What was remarkable extended beyond mere martial prowess.

My eyes and aura were perfectly under my control. At seventeen, no swordsman in Zigheart’s history had possessed such martial power.

‘So the legend was not merely a fabrication?’

The legend of the clan head that emerged from the Selection.

Siran, master of the Owhwa Unit and one of the senior members of the Elder Council, smiled faintly as she contemplated the legend of the clan head she was witnessing for the second time, after Glen.

‘I may very well be crafting the coat that this child will wear as clan head.’

*

*

*

The next morning at dawn.
I arrived at the 5th Training Ground earlier than the previous day. Unlike before, the training ground was completely empty.

-Ahem, I won’t be able to eat at the Annex Building for a while, so shouldn’t we at least grab breakfast before we go?

Wrath stroked his belly and smacked his lips.

‘That’s not bad either, but finding new culinary delights sounds fun too, doesn’t it?’
-New, new culinary delights?
‘Right. Mirtan is a village of mercenaries, so it gets plenty of visitors and has developed quite a bit. Finding a decent restaurant there would be entertaining, wouldn’t it?’
-Hmm! Not a bad idea. I understand.

In truth, eating at the Annex Building now and searching for restaurants in Mirtan were entirely different matters, but Wrath nodded in agreement.

True to form—the Demon King working undercover had his reasoning narrowed whenever food entered the picture.

“Then….”

I gazed up at the dark sky where the sun had not yet risen and drew my sword.

Rather than beginning with Resonance Swordsmanship as usual, I descended to something more fundamental, practicing horizontal slashes, vertical slashes, and thrusts in sequence.

Whoooosh!

Formidable power infused the blade, cleaving through the cold air and unfurling my will. Swift strikes—the fundamental principle of speed in martial arts—mercilessly carved through the void.

‘Not bad.’

Both Resonance Swordsmanship and Garam Technique were well-balanced martial arts, so I could channel speed even without delving deeply into Swift Strikes until now.

-Why are you pursuing speed lately?

Wrath tilted his head in confusion. He seemed to find it strange that I’d been practicing only Swift Strikes whenever I was alone recently.

‘I’m looking for places where I can put it to use.’

I bloomed Glacial’s aura across the blade.

—Are you researching how to wield Glaceia?
‘That’s right.’

I had poured strength, transformation, and illusion into Manwhagong’s blade, so with Glaceia, I wanted to explore speed—something entirely different from those attributes.

—Hmph. Your mind works well enough, but do you truly believe a human can wield Glaceia so easily?

Wrath clicked his tongue, as if I didn’t understand the gravity of the matter.

‘You told me yourself. The most important thing when using Glaceia is imagination. If I keep drawing it in my mind, it should be possible.’
—Ugh! Damn it!

Wrath, who had been sneering, seemed to regret his earlier words and struck himself across the mouth.

‘This creature never lies.’

Wrath had said that if one drew the image correctly, Glaceia could accomplish anything. If that were true, then advancing the attributes of swordsmanship should certainly be possible.

Gooooo!

As I wielded Glaceia, silver frost began spreading across the ground. I drew the frigid aura radiating from my entire body back inward.

Through Glaceia’s mental image, I painted only speed. Envisioning a swift blade that could even cut the wind, I extended my sword with the incantation of Gyeongryuah—the fastest form among Gwangah Sword’s techniques.

Kwaaaaa!

The frigid energy of Glaceia, which had been surging through the mana circuits, erupted explosively, unleashing a sword strike at terrifying speed.

But the true technique was something else. A silver line traced the path where the blade had passed.

A powerful, swift sword strike shot forth first, followed by the frigid energy Glaceia created in its wake.

With a single swing, two swift blade strikes were delivered—a wondrous swordsmanship technique.

—Hah….

Even Wrath’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Wait, you didn’t actually plan this, did you?”
‘No. It was pure chance.’

I had simply wanted to test wielding the sword using Glacius’s chill. The two-stage attack was something I never anticipated.

‘Could it be because of the techniques I used in my past life?’

When I lived as an assassin, I frequently employed Dark Aura—concealing subtle aura behind my blade—so perhaps that habit had carried over.

“If I use this properly, it could become quite useful.”

I gazed at the frost-blooming blade and the shards of ice suspended in the air, a faint smile crossing my face.

‘For now, I’ll call it Dual Slash.’

I would give it a proper name later, but for the moment, I settled on the provisional technique name: Dual Slash.

“Raon.”

Lunan’s voice called from outside the Training Ground. His tone was sluggish, as if sleep still clung to him.

Whoosh.

I swept away the ice shards floating in the air with a breath, then walked toward Lunan, who held a silver box.

My face, having discovered a new path for growth, shone brightly as if reflecting the rising sun.

“Let’s go.”

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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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