The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 304

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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 304

I trembled as I looked at Martha, her eyes bloodshot and raw.

“Your mother was on the battlefield?”

Martha had never spoken about her past. I’d only assumed that the 10th Apostle had attacked her village based on context. I’d felt sympathy for those they’d taken—they would become food for the blood demons—but I never imagined hearing that she’d seen her mother there.

I never imagined I would hear that someone had seen my mother here, even though I felt sorry for the people they had taken away, knowing they would become food for the blood ghosts.

“Yes.”

Martha nodded, her dark pupils trembling violently.

“My mother was there.”
“Who was she?”
“….”

Martha didn’t answer. Instead, she looked up at the magical lamp hanging from the ceiling.

“She was younger and more beautiful, but it was definitely my mother. I couldn’t possibly be mistaken….”

She bit her lip hard, insisting she couldn’t have been wrong.

“Martha?”

When I called her name, her gaze lowered. Her pupils were glazed over, hollow with despair and emptiness.

“The White Blood Cult Master.”
“…What?”

I let out a groan. The completely unexpected name left my mind blank, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“Huh?”

Lunan also jumped back in shock. The water bottle sitting on the floor toppled over with a dull thud.

“The White Blood Cult Master was wearing my mother’s face.”

Martha spoke with absolute certainty. Her eyes, dying like a fading flame, seemed to scream silently.

“You mean she just looks similar?”
“It’s not just similar. The White Blood Cult Master is my mother.”
“What are you talking about….”

I shook my head before noticing the worn water droplet pendant clutched in Martha’s hand.

‘That’s….’

It was the pendant that had slipped from her neck during the grueling summer training back when I was a trainee. I’d seen her tuck it back beneath her clothes several times, clearly treasuring it deeply.

‘I’ve definitely seen that before. Ah!’

My trembling legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground.

‘The White Blood Cult Master. She had it….’

When the White Blood Cult Master summoned her blood deity and clashed with Glen with all her might, a pendant had slipped from beneath her dress and swayed in the air.

Though the color was different, it had the exact same shape as the pendant clutched in Martha’s hand.

‘Now that I think about it….’

Their appearances were similar too.

Both the White Blood Cult Master and Martha had black hair and black eyes. Now it clicked. When I’d seen the White Blood Cult Master, I’d thought she resembled someone—and that someone was Martha, standing right before me.

Despite her contrasting personality, Martha’s features carried an elegant quality, but if she aged a bit more and revealed a more sultry charm, she would bear a striking resemblance to the White Blood Cult Master.

‘So the White Blood Cult Master is really Martha’s mother?’

Words escaped me. The thought that her certainty might be true hammered relentlessly against my mind.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

‘What in the world….’

I had promised to give Martha some advice, but I couldn’t think of what to say to her.
Not having lived a normal life in my previous existence was catching up with me at moments like this.

‘Wrath, what should I do? Do you have any advice?’
-Master, should we feed her?
‘….’

Wrath hadn’t lived a normal life either, so he was equally unhelpful.

“Martha, the White Blood Cult Master….”
“She’s not our mother.”

Martha suddenly made an inarticulate sound and buried her head again.

“That face and body are definitely our mother’s, but what’s inside is someone else entirely.”

She clawed at the floor, her fists clenching.

“Our mother never smiled like that. She couldn’t even curse, let alone kill someone. There’s no way our mother became the leader of those blood demons!”
“….”

Lunan Slion approached and gently squeezed Martha’s trembling hand. Normally she would have pushed him away, but this time she quietly accepted his warmth.

I touched my neck and narrowed my eyes.

‘So the White Blood Cult Master’s soul has taken over Martha’s mother’s body?’

Having directly experienced Eden’s schemes, I didn’t think such a thing was impossible. Whether through necromancy, blood sorcery, or curse magic, a monster of that caliber would have found a way to transfer souls.

-That’s right. It’s not particularly difficult.

Wrath clicked his tongue in disapproval.

-The Demon Realm has plenty of parasitic creatures like that. They’re greedy spirits that covet healthy bodies with their filthy souls.
‘…You tried to steal my body the same way.’

I smirked. When it came down to it, Wrath wasn’t any different.

-Listen here, the True Demon King came because he heard your wish! You’re the one who wanted this!
‘I never said that.’
-You did! You cursed demon spawn!
‘Well, I suppose I did.’
-Aaaaaargh!

Wrath clutched his head and screamed.

‘Move over.’

I pushed the thrashing Wrath aside and flexed my fingers.

‘So the White Blood Sect taking people away was for that purpose too?’

The White Blood Sect would raid villages and cities, slaughtering half the inhabitants and dragging the other half back to their headquarters.

Until now, I’d assumed it was some kind of doctrine, but after hearing Martha’s explanation, I began to suspect they were searching for a suitable body to house the White Blood Cult Master’s soul.

‘Is there any way to reverse it?’
-Hmm, generally it’s impossible. However, it depends on the circumstances.
‘Circumstances? What do you mean?’

Since there was at least some possibility, I grabbed Wrath.

-It depends on whether the original soul was devoured or merely imprisoned within the body.

Wrath struggled to break free and continued speaking.

-You experienced it yourself this time. Since you absorbed half a dragon’s soul, it cannot be reversed, but if the original soul were imprisoned within that Mental Realm, there would be a chance of resurrection.
‘So that means there’s no possibility Martha’s mother is alive….’

I furrowed my brow. The White Blood Cult Master, who viewed people as less than insects, would never preserve a soul.

-That’s not necessarily true.
‘Hmm?’
-I mentioned causality before.
‘Right. Cause and effect.’
-Powerful forces carry proportional consequences. There’s no guarantee that evil automatically destroys the body’s soul. We don’t know what contracts or conditions might have been imposed.

Wrath muttered that the outcome was uncertain as he watched Martha trembling at the nape of her neck.

“Hmm.”

I bit my lip slightly. I couldn’t relay Wrath’s words to Martha—not when it meant giving her false hope.

‘If only there were something to offer certainty….’

As I exhaled inwardly, I noticed the necklace clutched in Martha’s hand.

‘Wait….’

Something felt off.

If Martha’s mother had been stripped of everything by the White Blood Cult Master, there was no way she would be wearing that necklace. It was an old, unremarkable piece—neither beautiful nor expensive, with no special properties whatsoever.

The fact that she was wearing such an old necklace unrelated to herself suggested that, as Wrath had said, Martha’s mother might very well be trapped in the Mental Realm, overpowered by the White Blood Cult Master.

Uuuuuung!

The Soul Reaper Sword at my waist suddenly vibrated, as if affirming his words.

“Martha.”

I clenched my fists and rose to my feet.

“There might be a way to save her after all.”
“What nonsense are you talking about….”
“That necklace.”

I pointed to the water droplet necklace Martha held in her grip.

“The White Blood Cult Master was wearing one just like it.”

At those words, Martha slowly lifted her head. A faint glimmer of light kindled in her dying eyes.

“If the White Blood Cult Master had truly consumed your mother’s soul, there would be no reason for her to wear that necklace. It’s nearly impossible, but it’s not without hope.”

As I relayed my conversation with Wrath directly to her, Martha’s eyes brightened further.

‘Ah, wait.’

Raon averted his gaze from Martha, his expression contorting with displeasure.

‘I don’t even know if the White Blood Cult Master is alive….’
-She lives.

Wrath answered lightly, as though it were nothing remarkable.

-That creature and the half-baked Pride both survived.

*

*

*

On the outskirts of the commercial city of Camelrun.

A throng of people had gathered before an elegant yet antiquated mansion.

A merchant passing along the road tilted his head in bewilderment at the crowd standing around the mansion. Unable to contain his curiosity, he approached an elderly man standing nearby.

“Wasn’t this place abandoned? What brings so many people here?”
“The Northern Destruction King is staying here.”

The old man gazed upward toward the highest floor of the Annex Building, exhaling softly.

“Th-the Northern Destruction King? You mean Glen Zigheart?”

The merchant, following the old man’s gaze, recoiled in shock.

“Tsk! How dare you speak his name so carelessly—be more careful!”
“Ah, I-I’m terribly sorry.”
“With him staying here, peddlers and merchants have flocked from everywhere, hoping to gain his favor.”

The old man chuckled softly, as if amused by their futile efforts.

“But why did the Northern Destruction King come to Camelrun?”
“You don’t even know that? Where have you been and what have you been doing?”
“I just arrived from Robert today.”

The merchant displayed the spices he had brought from the South.

“Ah, then it’s understandable you wouldn’t know.”

The Old Man nodded and pointed toward the West Side.

“Eden had established a branch on the West Side of Camelrun. There, at that place….”

The Old Man recounted all the rumors spreading throughout Camelrun.

“Wow, he faced the White Blood Cult Master and Tacheon alone? The Northern Destruction King? Incredible….”

The merchant’s jaw dropped. Previously, many had regarded Glen Zigheart as the greatest on the Continent, but as the Zigheart family’s activities ceased, more people began to rank other absolute powers higher.

Recently, many had even come to view the Northern Destruction King as a relic of the past, so he couldn’t have imagined the old man possessed the strength to face two leaders of Oma alone.

“That’s not all.”

The Old Man twirled his finger in a circle.

“His grandson, Raon Zigheart, has achieved feats no less remarkable than the Northern Destruction King. While held captive, he killed the 5th Apostle to rescue the hostages, and he also cut down Geummyeonsa, a Master-class swordsman. And he did all this before the White Blood Cult Master and Tacheon.”

He chuckled, remarking on the young swordsman’s extraordinary spirit.

“To be honest, I think that young man is even more impressive. It’s not something a warrior not yet twenty years old should be capable of.”
“Y-yes, that’s true.”

The merchant nodded with a bewildered expression.

‘Zigheart….’

Recently, Zigheart hadn’t made much of a name for itself. Since they hadn’t undertaken major operations in the central regions, even the Six Emperors often ranked them as merely mid-tier.

But through this incident, rumors would spread that the swordsmen of the North had grown colder and stronger. Indeed, the name Zigheart was not to be taken lightly.

The merchant turned around, walked behind me, and set down his backpack.

“Didn’t you have somewhere to be?”

The Old Man narrowed his eyes, gesturing toward the merchant’s backpack.

“After hearing what you said, sir, this doesn’t seem like the right time for business.”

The merchant chuckled softly and sat down.

“If the current greatest master under heaven and perhaps the future greatest master under heaven are both here, I have to see their faces.”

*

*

*

An old woman gazing down at the gathered crowd from the mansion’s highest floor turned around with a faint smile.

“Everyone seems eager to see the Head of House.”

She smiled warmly as she looked at Glen Zigheart seated in the center.

“Won’t you greet them? They would all be delighted.”
“They are like migratory birds—capable of turning their wings and departing at any moment. There is no meaning in it.”

Glen Zigheart shook his head without rising from his chair. Those who could seek him out anytime to establish trade with Zigheart had no reason to meet him now, merely to open doors that had previously been closed.
There were countless others eager to establish trade regardless.

“I suppose so.”

The old woman nodded with a faint smile.

“Then why have you come, Black Market Master?”

Glen Zigheart narrowed his eyes as he regarded the old woman. She was the proprietor of the Black Market, one of the most renowned information networks across the entire Continent.
He could not afford to lower his guard, for this seemingly benevolent old woman was the one who had built the Black Market from its limited regional scope into its present magnitude.

“Our transaction should have ended.”
“The transaction has ended. But the debt of gratitude remains.”

The Black Market Master approached Glen and bowed deeply. Though her neck trembled slightly from the strain, she maintained her composure with a respectful gesture.

“Debt of gratitude?”
“Yes. Granseville was a region we invested considerable effort in developing. We intended to make it the entertainment hub, much as Camelrun is the commercial one.”
“And?”
“To achieve that, we dispatched many talented individuals from the Black Market to Granseville. I even sent one of my successor candidates.”
“You mean the young girl wearing the eye patch?”

Glen narrowed his gaze. The branch master of the Black Market who had thrown herself into this affair with unparalleled zeal came to mind.

“That is correct.”

The Black Market Master nodded gently.

“A child who survived the 7th Apostle thanks to the Gale Storm Unit Master. She clung to me desperately, insisting that Raon must be saved at any cost.”

She offered a warm smile and bowed once more to Glen.

“Thank you once again for saving my child, Northern Destruction King.”
“That child’s gratitude was genuine, at least. However….”

Glen regarded the Black Market Master intently, tapping his fingers against the armrest.

“It’s difficult to accept gratitude from the Black Market Master. One can never know what you’re truly thinking.”
“You’re being overly cautious. This time, I offer only sincere thanks. Do not overthink the girl’s feelings.”
“The girl, you say.”

Glen chuckled softly and nodded.

“I understand. But the one you and that child should thank is not me.”
“I am aware. The child is on her way here now, so we shall offer our gratitude to the Gale Storm Unit Master together.”

The Black Market Master looked up at Glen with a faint smile.

‘She cares for the Gale Storm Unit Master more than I anticipated.’

At Glen Zigheart’s station, he simply accepted the greetings of others. Watching how naturally he passed the initiative, it was clear he held the boy called Raon in high regard.

‘If that weren’t the case, he wouldn’t have come to rescue him.’

Though he used the excuse of ignoring Zigheart, the fact that the Head of House moved personally made it evident that he viewed the boy Raon as successor material.

‘And rightfully so.’

Raon Zigheart reached intermediate Master rank at nineteen, and he’s a monster who defeated three Apostles and five Master-class spirits.
Though young in years, he possessed more than enough capability to rise to the threshold of succession.

“I have something to say to the Head of House.”

The Black Market Master bowed at the waist and looked toward Glen.

“What is it?”
“Through this incident, I believe the Black Market will face scrutiny from both Eden and the White Blood Sect.”
“That’s likely.”
“I would like to request a temporary alliance to confront Eden and the White Blood Sect.”
“So you’re asking to borrow military force in exchange for information?”
“Yes. We will handle what we can manage, but dealing with high-ranking Apostles would incur severe casualties….”
“I understand.”

Glen closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and nodded.

“Thank you.”

The Black Market Master lowered her head.

‘Is this all because of Raon?’

Glen’s nature was typically solitary. He shouldn’t have accepted such an alliance proposal so readily.
He still seemed unable to quell his rage toward the White Blood Sect and Eden for kidnapping Raon.

‘I should prepare a gift for Raon.’

There was no harm in laying groundwork in advance, and it seemed wise to prepare a gift that would benefit his physical condition.

“Then I shall prepare the documents and visit again with the Fourth.”

The Black Market Master bowed and left the room.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad arrangement.”

Sheryl stepped forward from where she’d been standing at the periphery, a subtle smile gracing her lips.

“Our intelligence is limited to the North and Central regions, so if we leverage the Black Market’s resources, we should be able to gain considerable advantages.”
“I share that sentiment. War has already begun, and if we cannot avoid it, we must annihilate them.”

Roen’s hand drifted to the three swords at his waist, and a chilling murderous intent flickered across his otherwise benevolent eyes.

“Do calm yourself.”

Sheryl let out a soft laugh and raised her hand.

“Ah, my apologies.”

Roen scratched the back of his head sheepishly, though the killing intent in his eyes remained undiminished.

“Still, I cannot simply overlook those who have harmed Young Master Raon. I need to loosen these stiff joints.”

He grasped his sword, resolved to restore his strength to its former peak.

“I understand. If something had happened to Raon, I would have torn through the entire Continent searching for them.”

Sheryl’s eyes turned cold as she clenched her fists.

“Indeed.”

Glen Zigheart nodded in agreement.

“There is no reason to spare those vermin. Eliminate them completely the moment intelligence arrives.”
“Yes!”
“Understood.”

The three exchanged glances, their eyes gleaming with a sinister resolve.

“Sigh…”

Rimer exhaled sharply as he observed Roen, Sheryl, and Glen Zigheart.

‘They call me reckless every day, but these three are something else.’

The very people who once questioned why he dragged a child everywhere were now prepared to overturn the entire Continent for Raon’s sake. I couldn’t fathom how things had spiraled to this point.

‘It’s truly bizarre.’

Sheryl didn’t particularly favor children, and Roen appeared benevolent yet possessed a colder temperament than anyone. It was genuinely remarkable that both of them had fallen under Raon’s spell.

‘Though he does possess charm.’

Raon never acted like a child—never whined for attention or asked for help first. Rather than some prodigy, he was a diligent pursuer who gazed upward while running, and perhaps that was what had captivated their hearts.

“I….”

Just as Rimer was about to speak to Glen Zigheart, a knock sounded at the door.

“Gale Unbreaker. I am Raon Zigheart. I’ve come hoping to meet with the Head of House.”

After the knock, Raon’s voice came through, tinged with evident tension.

“Hm?”
“What?”

The murderous intent radiating from Roen and Sheryl extinguished like a snuffed candle.

“I shall open the door.”
“Wait.”

As Roen moved toward the door as he normally would, Rimer struck his shoulder to silence him.

“Head of House.”

He narrowed his gaze toward Glen Zigheart.

“You’re planning to feign indifference again, aren’t you?”
“Mm….”
“Given what we’ve endured, you know well. As long as we live as warriors, danger arrives constantly. There may come a time when we cannot convey our true feelings.”

Rimer shot Glen a rare, serious look.

“Now, why don’t you reveal your true feelings? No one would blame you for caring about your grandson!”
“Ugh….”

For the first time, Glen flinched as he looked at Rimer.

“Well, I’d normally refute whatever that drunkard says, but this time he’s got a point.”

Sheryl nodded emphatically.

“I agree as well.”

Roen, standing by the door, smiled gently.

“I already know what kind of person the Head of House is. I don’t expect much.”

Rimer sighed and raised his index finger.

“At least say you were worried! You absolutely must say that!”

He clenched his fist pleadingly and approached the door.

“Wait!”

Glen raised his hand. Rimer, Sheryl, and Roen all turned around simultaneously.

“Ahem.”

He cleared his throat with a tense voice.

“I-is my voice alright right now? It’s not strange, is it?”
“….”

The three of them, who had been frowning at what he might say next, all went blank at once.

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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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