The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 197

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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 197

“We’ll start soon. Warm up your bodies.”

As I instructed the swordsmen to loosen up, a tall and lean swordsman approached from the opposite side of the Sparring Arena.

‘Garon Zigheart.’

He bore a similar appearance to Rayden, whom I had defeated before, but the aura emanating from him was entirely different. The formidable energy unique to one who had transcended the Wall enveloped his entire body.

“Are you Raon?”

Garon Zigheart approached until his breathing was audible, releasing a cold laugh. He thrust his chin upward, radiating an immense aura as if intent on crushing me.

“Yes, I am.”

I met his momentum with composure and nodded.

“Hmm.”

Garon Zigheart’s eyes narrowed, as if he hadn’t expected me to withstand his pressure so easily.

“I heard you reduced our Vice-Master to rags with a single punch. You do seem to have the skill for it.”

“He wasn’t particularly strong.”

“Not strong? Tekri?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve tasted a bit of fame and grown far too arrogant.”

“It’s not arrogance—merely stating facts.”

No provocation, no mockery. It was genuine conviction.

“I appointed Tekri as Vice-Master not for his fists, but for his swordsmanship. The man with a blade will be on an entirely different level than before.”

“Then shall we make a small wager, Master?”

“A wager?”

“If I defeat your Vice-Master again this time, you’ll face me yourself.”

I continued, watching Tekri’s jaw clench.

“Ending it in one strike would be rather dull.”

“You insolent bastard!”

Tekri, who had been listening intently, ground his teeth and stepped forward.

“Last time, you didn’t have a sword….”

“Speaking out of turn while I’m conversing with the Master? The Geumcheom-dan’s hierarchy truly is a mess.”

At my scorn, both Garon and Tekri’s expressions hardened.

“I-I apologize.”

Tekri, meeting Garon’s cold gaze, retreated to his original position. The way his fists clenched until they turned red suggested he was quite heated.

“Raon Zigheart. You’ve gotten a bit too arrogant now that your name carries some weight.”

“Indeed. Perhaps the provocation is too much for the Master of the Geumcheom-dan, whose name lacks such substance.”

“You bastard….”

“Why won’t you answer the wager you mentioned earlier? Don’t you trust your subordinates?”

“Hmph, they say you have a sharp tongue, and it seems to be true. Your skill at provocation is no ordinary matter.”

Garon took a deep breath and offered a sinister smile.

‘As expected, he wouldn’t fall for such a simple provocation.’

I let out a quiet chuckle. So he was different from Rayden after all, despite being my older brother. Just as I was about to try a different approach, Garon stepped forward.

“Fine. Since I’ve said my piece, I’ll humor your provocation. But if you lose, you’ll be suspended from active duty for five years.”

“That won’t be enough.”

I tapped my scabbard as I looked at Garon.

“If I cannot subdue Tekri in a single strike, I will never draw my sword again.”

“You really do want to die.”

Unable to endure the second provocation, Garon unleashed a killing intent so thick it seemed to materialize.

Crackle, crackle, crackle!

I let Garon’s formidable aura flow past me like water, my smile never wavering.

“I’m not so mature myself. Shall we end this here and now?”

“That wouldn’t be so bad. Come then.”

As our auras clashed and sparked, surging toward the heavens, a grand resonance erupted from the entrance of the Training Ground.

Boom!

“The true sky of Zigheart. The patriarch, Glen Zigheart, has entered!”

At the gatekeepers’ cry that seemed to tear their throats, everyone in the Training Ground fell to their knees.

“We greet the patriarch!”

I bowed my head while observing Glen as he entered through the wide-open entrance.

‘He’s grown even larger….’

Glen today appeared far grander and more imposing than when I had sensed him three months ago. His power seemed to transform with each stage of growth—truly an unfathomable might.

Glen, alongside the Heavenly Sword Master, cast his gaze upon no one. He ascended the throne on the platform and looked down upon the Gwangpung Unit and the Geumcheom-dan.

-Tsk, I should be standing there, not him.

Wrath eyed Glen with a predatory gaze and licked his lips.

‘You’d look good adorning my wrist.’

-I am a great lord of the Demon Realm! I cannot possibly remain confined to this wretched bracelet forever!

‘Just stay. I’ll feed you every delicacy the Continent has to offer.’

-Huh? Uh… S-shut up!

Wrath’s response came surprisingly late, as if he’d been genuinely considering it. I couldn’t help but laugh. As always, what truly moved this creature wasn’t rage—it was his insatiable appetite.

“Where did the Gwangpung Unit Master go?”

“He is….”

“I’m right here!”

Just as I was about to answer, Rimer’s voice rang out from behind me. He was clutching a piece of paper—unmistakably gambling records at a glance.

“Well then, let’s begin.”

Glen glared at Rimer as if he could kill him with his eyes alone, then waved his hand. At his low command, the swordsmen rose to their feet.

“We will now commence the group sparring match between the Gwangpung Unit and the Geumcheom-dan! First competitor, please take the arena!”

Before the Announcer could finish speaking, a lanky swordsman from the Geumcheom-dan ascended to the arena.

“Hmm?”

“Who’s our number one?”

“We haven’t decided yet.”

“Master?”

“I don’t know either.”

The swordsmen looked toward Rimer, but he merely shrugged as if he had nothing to do with the matter.

“Number one is already decided.”

I approached and pointed to the swordsman at the very end with green hair.

“Me? Really me?”

Dorian, nervously rubbing his stomach pouch, stumbled backward in shock.

“Since you were the beginning of this whole affair, you should be the beginning of the sparring match as well.”

I grinned and gripped Dorian’s shoulder.

“Go release three months of pent-up anger.”

*

*

*

Dorian bit his lip as he looked at the Geumcheom-dan swordsman standing before him.

‘Anger?’

Of course I feel anger. But not toward the Geumcheom-dan—toward Raon.

I’d taken so many blows from Raon that I could barely remember being hit by the Geumcheom-dan at all. At this point, I’d even forgotten why I was fighting them in the first place.

‘He looks strong.’

I didn’t know the opponent’s name, but just from the aura he radiated and his bearing, he was no ordinary fighter.

I couldn’t fathom why Raon, who had an almost supernatural ability to gauge others’ combat prowess, had sent me out first.

‘I can’t afford to lose….’

In a team battle like this, the vanguard was everything. If the first fighter performed well, the rest would flow naturally—but I had no confidence I could defeat this opponent.

“Combatants, step forward.”

At the Announcer’s call, Dorian heaved a heavy sigh and stepped forward.

“State your names.”

“Dorian.”

“Belkil.”

“Ugh!”

Dorian’s lips formed a tight circle.

‘Even his name is terrifying….’

It wasn’t just his face that seemed three times more intimidating—his very name carried that weight. I wanted nothing more than to descend from this Sparring Arena immediately.

‘I’m not even sure if I’ve grown stronger….’

Three months of grueling training had tested my limits, yet if someone asked whether I’d truly become stronger, I couldn’t give a confident answer.

No matter how much martial technique I mastered or how carefully I devised defensive strategies and counterattacks, Raon’s blade always found its openings like a phantom, leaving no room for confidence to flourish.

“Begin the match!”

Before my mind could fully settle, the match had already begun.

The moment the Announcer descended, Belkil charged forward. His blade twisted in a luminous arc like billowing clouds, descending with dazzling yet disorienting swordplay.

“Eek…what?”

Dorian’s eyes widened as he stumbled backward in shock.

‘What… what is this?’

Belkil’s diverse sword techniques flowed before my eyes with crystalline clarity. I could see exactly where his blade aimed, how it moved—every motion vivid and distinct.

‘Is he toying with me?’

Thinking he was mocking me, I shifted my footwork with speed, yet Belkil’s blade descended precisely as I had anticipated, without the slightest deviation.

“You have decent eyes, I’ll give you that.”

Belkil grinned mockingly and charged forward again.

“But this time will be different!”

He roared and thrust his blade. In an instant, the sword split into three trajectories, targeting my chest, wrist, and head.

‘I can see all of it.’

Though this swordplay was unfamiliar, its flow and direction were completely legible to me. Out of caution, I dodged once more, and again the trajectory matched my prediction perfectly.

“Pathetic little rat!”

Belkil wielded his sword with greater speed and variation, yet it made no difference. Every movement and opening in his form remained transparent to me.

“Hah!”

I stepped into the newly learned Spear Forest Technique, evaded Belkil’s blade, and swept a vicious strike across his exposed waist.

Crack!

A sharp, satisfying impact echoed through the Training Ground as Belkil shrieked and plummeted to the floor.

“Ugh….”

Belkil, struck directly in a vital point, clutched his waist and groaned before losing consciousness.

‘That has to hurt.’

Having been struck countless times by Raon, I knew intimately what pain and damage each vital point could inflict. A direct hit there would leave one gasping for breath before unconsciousness claimed them.

‘So what exactly just happened?’

Why had I won?

Dorian swallowed hard, his gaze fixed not on the fallen Belkil, but on Raon.

‘What exactly are you?’

What did you do to me?

*

*

*

I let out a soft chuckle as I watched Dorian’s bewildered expression.

‘He must be shocked.’

It was hardly surprising that he was stunned—he’d believed his strength had plateaued, only to see me fell a Geumcheom-dan swordmaster who seemed far more formidable in a single blow.

The members of the Gwangpung Unit had thought their power had stagnated, but in truth, they had grown steadily and relentlessly over these three months.

For those who had endured that hellish crucible, the Geumcheom-dan was nothing.

“What in the….”

Garon’s eyes widened—he too hadn’t anticipated this outcome. His shock seemed all the greater because Belkil, whom he’d sent as the first contestant, ranked just below the squad leader.

“F-first match. Victory goes to the Gwangpung Unit!”

The Announcer, who had been standing dazed, snapped back to attention and raised his hand toward the Gwangpung Unit.

“Is this… is this rigged?”

“They lost that easily?”

“Wooooooahhhhh!”

“Gwangpung Unit! Gwangpung Unit!”

The crowd’s reaction split sharply depending on which faction they supported.

Those who had wagered on a Geumcheom-dan victory clutched their heads in despair, while those cheering for the Gwangpung Unit roared themselves hoarse with jubilation.

“It’s merely luck, Ogin. Now, step aside!”

Garon forced a composed expression as he sent out the second-ranked squad leader of the Geumcheom-dan. His determination to win this second match was unmistakable, no matter what it took.

“Burren. Your turn. You can definitely win this. Trust your blade.”

“Yes, understood.”

Burren nodded with a reluctant expression and ascended the platform.

“Ogin Peteor.”

“Burren Zigheart.”

“Match begin!”

The Announcer declared the start as the two exchanged their pre-duel salutes and each took a step back.

Whoosh!

From the opening strike, Ogin sought to seize momentum, using his long reach to execute a whipping blade technique that compressed Burren’s space.

“Hmm?”

Burren deflected Ogin’s blade with a puzzled expression, slipping it away by the thinnest margin.

“Try blocking this one!”

Ogin Peteor spread his aura like flower petals to dominate the space, but Burren Zigheart effortlessly swatted aside every incoming blade strike with his sword, as though brushing away flies.

“What… what is this…?”

“Something’s off, but it’s my turn now, isn’t it?”

Burren Zigheart stomped the ground and lunged into Ogin’s bewildered space, unleashing his blade. Wind-infused aura tore through the trajectory carved by the sword strike and crashed brutally into Ogin’s solar plexus.

Crack!

Ogin Peteor, struck by the flat of the blade without any restraint, couldn’t even cry out before he collapsed.

“Ah…”

“What is happening?”

“Another one-hit victory? But Ogin is a squad leader!”

“Unbelievable…”

Once could be coincidence, but twice was a pattern. The spectators’ jaws dropped at the sheer martial prowess of the Gwangpung Unit, which had just felled even a squad leader in a single strike.

The moment Burren Zigheart descended from the Training Ground, he rushed toward me.

“What exactly did you do to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why can I see all of his attacks so clearly?”

He trembled as he spoke of how he could see every shift and flow in Ogin Peteor’s swordplay.

“Me too. I could see all of my opponent’s sword movements!”

Dorian’s face was still flushed, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“I told you from the beginning. Follow my systematic training, and I’ll make sure you win.”

“That training where we only got beaten up actually works?”

“S-systematic? What kind of system are you talking about…?”

“Uh…”

Not just Burren Zigheart and Dorian, but the other swordsmen too stared at me like I was some kind of monster, their eyes glazed over.

“Stop gawking and prepare for the next match.”

I patted the dazed Gwangpung Unit member on the shoulder and pointed toward the Sparring Arena.

“There are still thirty-three wins to go. Get out there and earn those points.”

Every single one of them.

*

*

*

Hack!

With a sharp, drumming impact, the Geumcheom-dan’s third squad leader tumbled across the ground.

Lunan, standing in the Sparring Arena, gazed at his unconscious opponent with eyes as vacant as someone freshly awakened, then turned toward the Gwangpung Unit.

Thirty-three wins, zero losses. An overwhelming victory for the Gwangpung Unit.

It was fortunate this took the form of a sparring match—had it been a true duel, the outcome would have been far more decisive.

“What in the world….”

Garon stared at the scoreboard, his lips trembling. Thirty-three to zero. He’d never imagined they would be the ones with zero.

“What is this! You rigged it! There’s no way this could happen without rigging!”

He snarled with fury, seizing the Announcer and the referee by their collars.

“You’re in on it with those bastards, pulling this stunt!”

“N-no, sir!”

“We simply observed the results….”

“Shut your mouth! You can say that after seeing this? Your eyes must be—Ugh!”

As Garon emanated murderous killing intent toward the referee and Announcer, a tremendous wave of aura erupted from the Platform.

Crunch, crunch, crunch!

The oppressive aura that seemed to bear down upon the entire Training Ground—indeed, upon all of Zigheart—naturally emanated from Glen Zigheart.

Crunch, crunch, crunch!

Glen, who had been keeping his eyes closed as if bored, furrowed his brow and looked down at Garon.

“What are you doing?”

“G-Grandfather! This is unreasonable….”

“This is not a private setting. Use proper titles.”

He dismissed Garon’s plea and unleashed an even colder gaze.

“And there was no foul play in today’s match. The fault lies not with the Announcer’s eyes, but with your own lack of skill.”

Glen waved his hand toward the Announcer, signaling him to continue.

“Y-Yes! The next swordsman, please come up to the Sparring Arena.”

The Announcer steadied himself and called the next contestant.

“Master.”

Tekri, the only one remaining, approached Garon.

“We must win. If the two of us defeat Raon and Rimer, the Geumcheom-dan can rise again.”

“Hmm….”

Garon nodded. The other members could be replaced easily enough. If he and Tekri could just win, they could build a new Geumcheom-dan and climb even higher.

Ironically, Garon placed his final hope in Tekri—the very man he had ignored, mocked, and even threatened all this time.

“Please have faith and wait.”

Tekri gripped his long sword and ascended onto the Training Ground.

“I didn’t expect to face you again.”

I smiled as I watched Tekri approach. I had thought he would back down in fear, but the fact that he had returned to this place spoke to the strength of his spirit as a warrior.

“You arrogant bastard! You’re wagering against me? And betting you can fell me in a single strike?”

Tekri’s eyes gleamed with an eerie light.

“I admit you defeated me too easily before, but if I had possessed a sword, the outcome would have been different!”

According to Judith’s intelligence, Tekri was indeed a swordsman of remarkable skill with a long blade.

“I’ll make it so you can never wield a sword again!”

“We shall see. Who truly cannot grasp one?”

I drew the Heavenly Sword with an unhurried smile.

“Begin!”

The moment the Announcer raised his hand and stepped back, Tekri rushed forward. He wielded his long blade with the nimbleness of a short sword, targeting my head, neck, and wrists simultaneously.

Zing!

It was advanced swordsmanship—flamboyant yet grounded in fundamentals, a perfect fusion of power, speed, and adaptability that anyone could recognize at a glance.

But.

I could see through it all.

To me, who had meticulously dissected and internalized the techniques the trainees had been learning for three months alongside the Hundred Fragrance Sword, Tekri’s blade seemed as simple as children playing with swords.

Speed, flow, breathing, trajectory—I could grasp every element as if holding it in my palm.

I understood it clearly now.

It wasn’t just the Gwangpung Unit that had grown stronger.

While I sparred with them daily—exploiting their weaknesses, pushing them toward greater heights—my own martial prowess had grown beyond recognition.

“Haaaaaah!”

Tekri stepped forward with a footwork technique and brought his long blade down. A faint aura coiled around the blade like vines, attempting to engulf my entire body.

‘Full of openings.’

Whether it was one of Tekri’s secret sword techniques or not, it certainly possessed formidable power and dazzling variations—but to Raon, who could perceive every flow and breath within it, such technique meant nothing.

Zing!

Raon raised the Heavenly Sword and thrust it directly into the gap within Tekri’s technique.

Boom!

The blade, infused with the aura of the Ten Thousand Harmony Technique, erupted in a tremendous explosion of flame, driving Tekri hard into the ground.

“Ugh….”

Tekri could not even lift his trembling neck, and lost consciousness on the spot.

A single strike. Just as I had promised, I felled Tekri with one swing.

“What in the….”

Garon’s eyes bulged wide as his lips trembled. He appeared utterly dumbfounded by a sight he could never have imagined.

“The smaller wager has concluded with my victory.”

“You….”

“Come up here.”

My crimson eyes blazed like wildfire. I gazed down at Garon with an expression of absolute arrogance.

“Take off your rank insignia and fight me.”

It was time to write a new legend in this very place.

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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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