The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 196

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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 196

When night fell, only Raon remained standing on two feet in the 5th Training Ground.

“Sparring matches completed, and the training ground thoroughly restored.”

I gazed at the swordsmen gasping like fish pulled from water and the immaculately refurbished training ground, letting out a satisfied chuckle.

“I should offer my thanks to the Gwangpung Unit.”

“Ugh….”

“Hrrgh!”

“Damn it!”

The swordsmen who heard my cheerful voice—especially the thirty who had destroyed the training ground yesterday—clutched the soft training soil with tears of blood streaming down their faces.

“Haaah….”

Rimer, who had been sleeping soundly sprawled across the platform, wiped his drool and sat up.

“Is it over?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh, terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.”

He shuddered as he looked at the swordsmen scattered across the ground.

“You have no idea how fortunate you are to have me as your superior.”

Rimer chuckled and patted Raon on the shoulder.

“It won’t be long.”

“Huh? Long until what?”

Raon laughed without answering. What else could it be? The time left before I could torment Rimer was running short.

I wanted to grow stronger quickly and advance in rank so I could stop his gambling and make him answer for it.

“That laugh sounds ominous somehow….”

Rimer broke into a cold sweat and turned away.

“A-anyway, I’m leaving. Everyone else, don’t overexert yourselves and head back.”

The swordsmen who had already pushed themselves too hard couldn’t respond and simply lay there in a daze.

“R-Raon….”

Burren Zigheart trembled like a leaf caught in the wind as he struggled to his feet.

“Training is good. Really good. B-but do we really need to do sparring matches like this every day? There’s footwork training, sword technique refinement, physical conditioning, body strengthening. Or we could do group inspection drills instead.”

He continued speaking with his hands clasped together, as if in prayer or seeking forgiveness.

“We’ve sparred enough over the past month. Let’s try something different now. I want to do systematic and varied training like you said!”

“What are you talking about?”

I tilted my head with a bewildered expression.

“Is there anything more systematic than sparring?”

“Has your brain frozen solid? Getting beaten mindlessly all day isn’t training!”

“Listen carefully. First, your body gets tempered while you’re taking hits from me in the Sparring Arena. Your stamina increases as you dodge my attacks. And you’ve been staying up all night practicing swordplay and footwork to avoid getting hit by me.”

I enumerated what Burren wanted by counting on my fingers.

“Physical conditioning, stamina enhancement, swordplay and footwork training. Everything you mentioned is already included in sparring. Where else can you find training this systematic?”

“That’s sophistry! Swordplay and footwork are things we practice separately, and getting hit doesn’t condition the body!”

“Exactly! Conditioning my foot—even after a month of getting hit, the pain doesn’t decrease!”

“That’s not training, that’s just thrashing around because you don’t want to die!”

Burren let out a sharp cry. The other swordsmen rose and joined in, raising their hands in agreement.

“Living creatures grow strongest fastest when their lives are threatened. Just bear with it a little longer.”

“Living creatures? He’s already stopped seeing us as people!”

“Damn it! He’s not listening to reason! It’s like talking to a wall!”

“Damn it!”

The swordsmen struck the ground with their fists and cried out in frustration. Seeing how little dust rose from their blows—a testament to their depleted strength—I felt a twinge of sympathy.

Still, the intensity of this training was considerably reduced compared to what I had endured.

In my past life, I had suffered countless attacks that shattered bones or crippled bodies, but I would never inflict wounds that left lasting scars on my disciples.

“So we continue like this from now on…?”

“We continue sparring.”

“Uuuugh!”

“Kyaaah.”

“Tch….”

Burren buried his head in despair, Lunan released a quiet wail, and Martha uttered a weak curse for the first time.

*

*

*

I dismissed the swordsmen and stood alone in the Training Ground, drawing the Heavenly Sword.

Shhhhng.

With singular resolve to cut down my own shadow reflected in the moonlight, I brought the blade down in a sweeping arc.

Whoooosh!

Without following any sword technique or footwork, the Celestial Sword vibrated gently as though executing a supreme technique, etching a silver trajectory through the shadows.

I followed the resonance of my heart rather than the calculations of my mind. Upon the pristine white blade of the Celestial Sword, the solitary dignity of moonlight bloomed, extending a magnificent sword aura.

Within that blade lay all the techniques, incantations, and breathing methods I had cultivated thus far.

The previously discordant properties of my sword techniques gradually intertwined, creating a sword spirit unlike anything before.

An assassin would call it a killing blade imbued with death; a knight would call it an upright and righteous sword; a dancer would call it an exquisite sword dance worthy of admiration.

I exhaled slowly.

Only when the shimmering moonlight flowed down past my shoulders did I lower the blade.

I had grown.

I thought I had plateaued, yet my realm had actually ascended. The training I began with the intention of developing my swordsmen had resulted in my own greatest advancement.

How curious.

I had merely been enthusiastically striking my gradually strengthening swordsmen, yet my martial mastery had improved. It was a remarkable phenomenon.

Just as Sloth grew stronger while sleeping, it seemed I possessed an attribute where I grew stronger by defeating others.

“Should I beat you a bit more?”

Raon sheathed the Heavenly Sword and chuckled softly.

-That remark.

Wrath nodded and pointed a finger.

-That’s exactly our style.

“I said it wasn’t!”

*

*

*

Vice-Master Tekri approached Garon, who had his feet propped up on the desk.

His broken limbs had healed, but his shattered cheekbones hadn’t recovered yet, so a large bandage wrapped his face.

Thud!

Tekri dropped to his knees before Garon and struck his head against the ground.

“I apologize!”

He didn’t lift his face, even as his fractured cheekbones pressed against the floor.

“I-I was careless! It won’t happen again, please forgive me!”

“Do you know what I hate most?”

Garon rose to his feet with a chilling smile.

“Carelessness. That’s what I hate.”

“I….”

“These pathetic fools keep spouting ‘I lost because I was careless,’ ‘I would’ve won if I hadn’t been careless,’ ‘It was carelessness that—’ but that’s all just a lack of skill, you understand?”

As his smile deepened, the swords embedded in the Master’s Quarters sang out with a bloodthirsty resonance.

“Ugh….”

Tekri’s complexion turned ashen.

“If you possessed overwhelming strength, you could kill your opponent whether you were careless or not, whether they struggled or not. You’re simply weak.”

“I-I’m sorry….”

“Just when I need to build my reputation, you bring me nothing but utter disgrace. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t take your head right now.”

Garon pulled a sword from the wall with lethal intent and pressed it against Tekri’s throat.

“This time, I’ll give it everything from the start. Raon Zigheart—that arrogant bastard will be buried by my own hands. Please, just give me one more chance!”

Even as blood poured from Tekri’s cheeks and forehead, he didn’t stop, driving his head against the marble floor.

“You got knocked out with a single punch, and you’re still spouting nonsense!”

“It was a punch. I will never lose with a sword!”

Raon was indeed a monster radiating an ominous aura, but only when trading blows with his fists. With a sword in hand, I was confident I could repay this humiliation.

“Hmm….”

Garon slowly lowered the sword he looked ready to swing at any moment.

“I will carve him up with the swordsmanship Master taught me! Please grant me one final chance!”

“Well, fine. I’ve invested effort in you, so it would be wasteful to discard you like this.”

“Th-thank you so much!”

“However!”

Garon’s eyes gleamed like those of a malevolent spirit as he fixed his gaze on Tekri.

“If you lose again, it will be you who gets carved up.”

*

*

*

Rimer received a summons from Glen and visited the Patriarch’s Reception Hall after a long time.

“Your cheeks have filled out quite nicely. Life must be treating you well.”

Glen Zigheart frowned as he observed Rimer’s plump cheeks.

“I’m not eating rabbits, sir. What kind of thing is that to say?”

Rimer’s jaw trembled as if he were frightened.

“What have you been doing all this time to gain weight like that? Are you just lounging around and eating these days instead of training the children?”

“I have nothing to do, sir.”

“Nothing to do?”

“Yes. Actually, Raon….”

He recounted to Glen Zigheart everything that had transpired over the past month.

“…So our children are getting thoroughly beaten every single day.”

“Any resistance?”

Glen Zigheart tilted his head slightly as he asked.

“Of course there is. Some don’t show up, others try to run away, some have hidden their training swords, and last week they even completely tore up the Training Ground.”

“How did Raon handle it?”

“He destroyed all their schemes. He immediately brought soil to have them restore the Training Ground, emptied Dorian’s pockets for the hidden swords, and as for the ones feigning illness—I’m not entirely sure what he did, but he somehow frightened them so much they came back on their own.”

Rimer chuckled, remarking that Raon was truly an impressive fellow.

“The children’s skills have certainly improved.”

“Yes. Training every day just to survive, they’ve grown so strong that fireflies have become moonlight itself.”

“To that extent?”

“They’ve grown accustomed to the martial techniques you bestowed upon them, so it’s no exaggeration to say they’ve become entirely different people. Of course, since they’re constantly getting beaten, they don’t quite realize it themselves.”

“I’d like to see them for myself then.”

Glen nodded, saying he should observe them on the day of their matches. The stern line of his mouth softened ever so slightly.

“The more I see Raon, the more he seems like a troublesome fellow.”

Rimer continued with a faint smile.

“I thought he was a genius specialized in strengthening himself, but that wasn’t it. He possesses abundant talent in nurturing others as well. As expected, my disciple is surely destined to be a vessel fit for a king.”

“Before he is your disciple, he is my grandson.”

“My disciple comes first, doesn’t he?”

“What nonsense is this!”

The faces of the two men, who had been smiling at Raon’s accomplishments just moments before, creased with tension.

“You don’t even treat him as your grandson most of the time! If you’re going to say such things, don’t be embarrassed—go stand before Raon and say, ‘My beloved grandson, let your grandfather embrace you once!’ and—ah!”

Rimer quickly shook his head upon seeing the dark cloud spreading above his head.

“No, no! You’re right—the Patriarch’s grandson indeed! Yes!”

If I took another blow, I might actually die. I had to dodge at all costs.

Whoooosh!

The moment I begged for forgiveness, the ominous clouds that seemed ready to strike lightning at any second began to dissipate.

“Then there are no particular issues.”

“Actually, there is a problem.”

Rimer stated the word “problem” with remarkable simplicity.

“What kind of problem?”

“The trainees, naturally. The stress accumulated over more than a month has nearly reached its peak. It’s highly likely that soon they’ll be demanding we kill them or let them split open their bellies.”

The minds of the Gwangpung Unit members, who trained at night and took beatings during the day, had reached their breaking point. They were not far from abandoning reason entirely.

“How is Raon preparing for this?”

“He must know, yet he’s doing nothing. In fact, he’s only escalating things further.”

Rimer’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“As if he’s deliberately inviting them to rebel.”

*

*

*

In the pre-dawn darkness before the sun could break through.

The swordsmen of the Gwangpung Unit, once brimming with vitality, had transformed into shambling zombies, their eyes devoid of focus. Both their physical stamina and mental fortitude had reached their absolute limits.

“I’m dying.”

“Yeah…”

“Damn it…”

Even Burren, Lunan, and Martha—those with formidable mental strength—were no different. They endured slightly longer than the others before succumbing to the same wavering exhaustion.

“Um, um… Lord Burren…”

Crain approached Burren and collapsed before him.

“At this rate, we’ll truly perish.”

“So what do you propose?”

“Let’s strike. Stop the training.”

“Strike?”

“Yes. We ignore whatever the Vice-Master commands and simply lie down.”

He raised his voice so that everyone could hear him. The swordsmen who had perked up their ears slowly turned their heads toward him.

“What happens if we get beaten even more?”

“More beatings? We’re getting beaten every single day, every single moment. How much more can there be? And this isn’t about wanting rest—it’s about survival! We need a few days of rest just to stay alive!”

Crain pointed his finger at the swordsmen.

“Look at them. Is this what teenagers in their prime should look like? They’re all withering away from exhaustion! Let’s ask for just a few days of rest to survive. If this continues, someone will actually die or suffer serious injuries.”

“Hmm….”

Burren Zigheart bit his lip. While Crain’s previous actions made his words untrustworthy, this particular statement was true.

He, Lunan Slion, and Martha had all reached their limits, so the other swordsmen must be suffering even more and be utterly exhausted. If they continued at this pace, they might sustain serious injuries from which they could never recover.

“The Vice-Master is certainly strong, but when it comes to training methods, he’s clearly still a novice. If you give the whip, you must also give the carrot, yet he only keeps striking with the whip.”

“That’s true.”

For two months, Raon did nothing but get whipped, just as Crain said. It was a time when even a thoroughbred would have died over and over again.

“Once everyone collapses from exhaustion and can’t move an inch, the Vice-Master will raise the white flag too.”

“Yes. Let’s try it once.”

“I, I agree too.”

“I really can’t do this anymore.”

“I don’t like listening to Crain, but he’s right about this.”

“If we all just lie down and refuse to move, even the Vice-Master won’t be able to do anything about it.”

Swordsmen gathered around Burren and Crain. Among them were Lunan, Martha, and Dorian.

All three of them had been unable to sleep properly for two months and were in a state where they would do anything just to rest.

“So when Raon arrives, we all lie down and don’t move. Traitors face execution!”

“Yes!”

“Got it.”

“Understood.”

For the first time, all thirty-three members of the Gwangpung Unit, excluding Raon and Rimer, became of one mind.

Shortly after, when morning training time arrived, Raon entered carrying a large bundle on his back. He furrowed his brow at the sight of swordsmen lying on the ground in the Training Ground.

“What’s going on here?”

“We really can’t do this anymore.”

“We can’t move a single finger.”

“We’ve reached our limit. Our limit.”

“I feel like I’m dying….”

The swordsmen, lying on the ground, poured out complaints about being unable to get up.

“Our desire to train hard burns as bright as a furnace, but we have no energy or stamina. Our strength is gone.”

Burren pointed at his half-lidded eyes and continued speaking.

“Either give us rest, or just kill us.”

Following his lead, all the swordsmen lying in the Training Ground stretched their limbs wide, forming thirty-three large characters across the floor.

“So if we have stamina and aura, we can continue training indefinitely?”

“Of course. That’s why we need at least three days of rest.”

“Less than three days is absolutely unacceptable. It must be three days or more!”

“Agreed!”

Burren and the other swordsmen cried out for rest, insisting they truly wanted to train but lacked the stamina and strength to continue.

“Stamina, you say? How convenient.”

I lowered the bundle I’d been carrying on my back and unfolded it. Over thirty wooden boxes tumbled out in a cascade.

“The spirit elixir Jinmyeongdan that I requested a second time from Porban City has arrived.”

I showed the swordsmen the wooden boxes containing the Jinmyeongdan and smiled brightly. That smile was undoubtedly radiant and refreshing, yet it felt as sinister as a demon’s grin.

“S-spirit elixir?”

“Why is it arriving now…?”

“Oh no, what is this…?”

The swordsmen’s faces became expressions of neither laughter nor tears as they beheld the elixir-filled wooden box.

They were delighted at the prospect of consuming the elixir, yet the moment they realized their stamina and vitality would be restored, they grasped the terrible truth—they would have to endure more beatings.

“Once you consume the elixir, your stamina and vitality will be restored. That means you can continue training, yes?”

Raon let out a soft chuckle, watching the swordsmen tremble with their contorted expressions.

‘I see right through every thought in your heads.’

Naturally, the elixir hadn’t arrived just now. It had come with Yeonseong-to, but I had hidden it away until this moment, anticipating such circumstances.

“Ugh! Damn it! Damn it all!”

Burren cursed and rose to his feet, clutching the elixir. He truly resented the heavens—why couldn’t it have arrived sooner, or at least much later? Why this cursed timing?

They said he wouldn’t receive a carrot, yet here it was, delivered with damnable generosity. A poisoned carrot at that!

“Ugh…”

“It’s over. We have to take more hits.”

“There’s no escape. I can’t find a way out!”

“There is no god.”

The swordsmen clenched their teeth, clutching the elixir box. Though grateful to receive it, the realization that they would soon face more blows caused tears to well in their eyes.

“W-well, there’s no helping it. Everyone consume the elixir and gather back here….”

“Wait.”

I raised my hand just as Burren was about to tell the swordsmen to take the elixir.

“You can’t take it now.”

“What? What do you mean….”

“You know the Profound Elixir works better when you’ve exhausted both your stamina and aura, right? Spar with me during the day, and take it tonight.”

I smiled and tapped the ground lightly, beckoning him forward.

“To maximize the elixir’s effectiveness, I’ll need to put in some real effort today too.”

My training sword spun like a windmill with ferocious intensity. The wind pressure radiating from the blade made teeth chatter.

“What are you doing? Come on.”

“Ah….”

Watching my gentle gesture, Burren became certain.

‘That bastard is a demon.’

Not just any demon—he’s definitely a Demon King!

*

*

*

Three months of tumultuous events had passed, and the morning of the decisive clash between the Gwangpung Unit and the Geumcheom-dan had finally arrived.

The Grand Training Grounds, where the duel would take place, was already packed with spectators—not a single space remained to stand.

“Who do you think will win today?”

“What’s there to discuss? Obviously the Geumcheom-dan. Even if the Gwangpung Unit has a prodigy, the caliber of their members is simply different.”

“Does anyone even know what missions the Geumcheom-dan has completed? These days belong to the Gwangpung Unit.”

“But this isn’t about reputation—it’s a test of pure strength. The Geumcheom-dan has the advantage with their superior martial prowess.”

“With thirty-five fighters on each side, I’d say the Geumcheom-dan takes it thirty to five.”

“The Gwangpung Unit has Raon Zigheart, who defeated an Apostle!”

“Raon is just one person. Even if he wins, it won’t change much.”

The spectators in the stands, though strangers to one another, buzzed with anticipation about the coming clash, debating who would emerge victorious.

Most acknowledged the Gwangpung Unit’s potential, yet still predicted the Geumcheom-dan’s triumph.

As the crowd thrummed with excitement, the main gates of the Grand Training Grounds swung open, and the Geumcheom-dan entered.

They advanced toward the Sparring Arena at the center, their sharp aura blazing with formidable presence.

“Can’t you feel that momentum? Do you really think they’ll lose to the Gwangpung Unit, who hasn’t even reached their prime?”

“If they hadn’t been suspended, their reputation would have surpassed the Gwangpung Unit’s.”

“Exactly. That look in his eyes is no joke. He looks ready to devour us whole.”

The spectators felt the intense aura radiating from the Geumcheom-dan and their conviction solidified.

Creak, creak, creak!

Not long after the Geumcheom-dan entered, the main gate opened a second time and the Gwangpung Unit marched in.

Unlike the Geumcheom-dan, they carried no confidence or overwhelming presence. Instead, they moved toward the Sparring Arena with an almost anxious quietness.

“Why are they acting like that?”

“They have no spirit at all.”

“Did they lose their nerve after feeling the Geumcheom-dan’s aura?”

“Well, they must have realized they’re facing opponents several levels above them.”

“I’m ruined! I bet everything on the Gwangpung Unit because of Raon!”

“Looking at this, the match is going to be boring.”

The spectators chattered among themselves, convinced that today’s confrontation would end without excitement after witnessing the Gwangpung Unit’s deflated momentum.

Raon surveyed the Training Ground with a smile, seeming to relish the crowd’s reaction.

“You’re right about that. It will be boring.”

Because I’ll end it with a perfect victory.

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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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