The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 305

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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 305

I stood before Glen’s Room, narrowing my eyes.

‘Are they discussing something secret?’

The noise from inside had ceased moments ago. Someone had installed a sound barrier to muffle their voices.

‘Is it because of that person from earlier?’

As I ascended here, I had locked eyes with an elderly woman who appeared to be a Black Market executive. It seemed they had silenced the interior sounds to conceal the contents of their conversation with her.

Click.

Just as I was committing the old woman’s face to memory, the door opened and Roen emerged. He wore his usual benevolent smile.

‘Completely different from back then.’

The cold-blooded assassin who had cornered the 10th Apostle with a single sword had vanished, leaving only a kindly grandfather who wandered the village.

“How are you feeling?”

“Thanks to you.”

I clenched my fist, then released it, and nodded.

“How fortunate. Do come in.”

Roen stepped aside, clearing the path.

“Thank you.”

I bowed my head and entered the chamber.

Rimer stood with his back against the wall, his expression darkened, while Sheryl wore a faint smile.

“I pay my respects to the Head of House.”

I walked to the center and stood before Glen. His face bore the same stern expression as when he sat in the Patriarch’s Reception Hall.

No—his features appeared even more rigid than usual, as though something had gone awry in his conversation with the old woman.

“What brings you here?”

His voice carried a slight rasp, suggesting his internal injuries had not fully healed.

“I came to offer my gratitude.”

“Gratitude?”

“Yes. Thank you for saving my life.”

I knelt and lowered my head. Since I had not expected him to come, my gratitude ran far deeper. Seeing Glen brought back the moment I had faced death, and even now my chest trembled at the memory.

“It wasn’t for your sake.”

Glen Zigheart’s eyes grew cold as winter itself settled into his gaze.

“I merely made those vermin pay the price for disrespecting Zigheart.”

“Ugh….”

Without knowing why, the moment Glen finished speaking, Rimer suddenly smacked his own forehead.

“Regardless, the fact that I’ve survived is thanks to you, Head of House. I am grateful for saving me and my comrades.”

It was the response I’d anticipated to some degree, so I offered a faint smile and bowed my head once more.

“Raon Zigheart. You are growing arrogant.”

Glen Zigheart’s eyes narrowed to slits. A sharp aura as keen as a blade’s edge pierced through my chest.

“Your power at such a young age is no small achievement. Yet there exist countless masters far above you. They will not show mercy simply because you are young or brimming with talent.”

His words were true. I had rushed forward with overconfidence in my own growth, failing to consider what lay ahead.

‘I charged in far too recklessly.’

I had believed I could overcome most Apostles, and I did slay the 7th Apostle, but the emergence of the 10th Apostle and Merlin that followed had shattered my expectations entirely.

Such monsters could topple an entire plan, so I should have created an escape route from the very beginning and acted accordingly.

“My apologies.”

Raon accepted Glen Zigheart’s rebuke and lowered his head.

“Sigh….”

Sheryl exhaled a sigh, unusual for her, then turned away and began gazing out the window.

“There will be no such miracles again.”

Glen Zigheart rested his chin on his hand, his expression darkening. His eyes grew colder and more piercing.

“Do not act beyond your station. Meddling without the strength to back it is nothing but meaningless sacrifice.”

“Hmm.”

Roen closed his mouth and lowered his eyes. It was a sight I had never seen from him, one who revered Glen Zigheart like the heavens themselves.

‘That’s a fair point.’

I didn’t understand why the three of them suddenly acted this way, but Glen’s words were right. Rushing forward to save others while lacking the power to do so was nothing but mutual suicide. There was nothing that could be accomplished by sentiment alone.

“I shall engrave the Head of House’s words into my very bones.”

Raon accepted Glen Zigheart’s counsel with genuine sincerity and closed his eyes.

‘Come to think of it, is the Head of House alright?’

I had witnessed him bleeding, and his expression now was far from reassuring, so a thread of concern wound through me.

“Head of House, are your internal injuries alright?”

“Ahem, don’t concern yourself with it.”

Glen’s face had hardened like a withered leaf, drawn tight with strain. It seemed his internal injuries had not yet healed.

“…And you—are you well?”

“Not badly. I should be able to return to duty within a week.”

“Did you forget what I said just now?”

His voice carried a heavy weight of authority. The pressure bore down on me, and my shoulders trembled.

“I told you not to be arrogant or overstep your bounds. You were dead and came back to life. Rest completely until your body has fully recovered!”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Still…”

Glen’s subdued voice seemed to tremble slightly.

“I’m relieved you’re safe.”

“Ah…”

I snapped my head up. I hadn’t expected such words from Glen Zigheart’s mouth, so my jaw fell open in shock.

Yet Glen’s expression remained as cold as before. Though he’d spoken as casually as a passing greeting, hearing concern from him for the first time made my nose sting.

“Thank you.”

Raon bowed his head deeply.

“Ahem.”

Glen cleared his throat and sank back into his chair.

“Oh.”

“Hmm!”

“Mm.”

Rimer, Sheryl, and Roen, who had been looking elsewhere, simultaneously turned their heads and let out low exclamations of surprise.

“If there’s nothing more to say, then—”

“There is. It may be a misunderstanding, but it appears the White Blood Cult Master and Tacheon escaped alive.”

Wrath wouldn’t lie about such a matter, so the fact that both were alive was certain. I needed to inform Glen as quickly as possible.

“I already know.”

Glen Zigheart nodded without the slightest hint of alarm.

“Attempting to eliminate both of them at once was my mistake. I should have focused solely on Tacheon, but my greed created an opening.”

Contrary to expectations, he acknowledged his own error, his brow furrowing. It was frustration directed at himself, not at others.

‘Truly an enigmatic man.’

Those in elevated positions typically refuse to admit mistakes, instead deflecting blame with vague excuses.

Derus Robert was no exception—he constantly shifted his failures onto his subordinates. Yet Glen, despite standing at a height surpassing all others, acknowledged his missteps with natural ease.

It was as remarkable as his martial prowess.

“Was that what you intended to discuss?”

“No, sir. There is one more matter. Regarding Martha….”

I recounted everything Martha had told me about the White Blood Cult Master, along with my own deductions.

“Insane!”

“Damn it….”

“Tch….”

The revelation struck them all—Rimer ground his teeth, Sheryl’s jaw trembled, and Roen squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hmm.”

Glen let out a low groan, his cold expression finally cracking.

“What is Martha’s condition?”

“She ate and has fallen asleep.”

Martha had believed there was hope, eaten her meal, and was now resting.

“Sigh.”

He exhaled slowly and gazed out the window where sunlight streamed through.

“When I first encountered the White Blood Cult Master, she was a young girl with red hair and blue eyes. The second time, she was a woman in her twenties with blonde hair and purple eyes. As you suspected, the White Blood Cult Master can use body-switching sorcery to inhabit others’ bodies.

“As I thought….”

“However, it differs somewhat from ordinary body-switching sorcery.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Body-switching sorcery requires entering another’s flesh, so the user loses most of their power and cannot fully utilize the host body’s capabilities. But that monster’s body-switching sorcery has no such drawbacks.”

Glen’s eyes narrowed with fury. His rage toward the White Blood Cult Master was palpable.

“The White Blood Cult Master can use her original power and sorcery immediately upon settling into a new body through body-switching. She faces no restrictions whatsoever.”

“Ah….”

“But thanks to you, I feel as though some of that secret has been unveiled.”

“What?”

“There is a law that results cannot occur without cause. The fact that you wear the same necklace as Martha suggests there is some secret hidden within it.”

He spoke of causality just as Wrath had, narrowing his eyes. It seemed that all the powerful ones understood that principle.

“Then, is there perhaps a way to save Martha’s mother?”

“It is originally impossible. However….”

Glen Zigheart closed his eyes calmly.

“If you can overwhelm the White Blood Cult Master not only in martial prowess but also in mental fortitude, then it does not seem entirely without possibility.”

“I see.”

I clenched my fists tightly. When Glen spoke in such terms, it meant the task was not entirely impossible. Of course, since I would need to subdue the White Blood Cult Master, the probability remained exceedingly slim.

“Raon Zigheart.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

Glen Zigheart suddenly offered praise, nodding his head emphatically.

“When the White Blood Cult Master’s secret is unraveled, more than half the credit will be yours. You have done well.”

“Ah, no. I simply wondered if there might be a way to help….”

I had merely turned my mind to it in order to comfort Martha and to understand the situation better. Such praise felt undeserved.

“Thinking of your comrades is always the right thing to do. Never forget that heart.”

“I will keep it in mind.”

“When Martha awakens, make sure you all look after her well. Once we return to the house, I’ll have her brought there.”

“Yes.”

I nodded in acknowledgment.

‘Thank goodness.’

I had worried that Glen might view Martha unfavorably because she was the daughter of the White Blood Cult Master, but he was only concerned for her. He was a cold man, yet profoundly human.

“Now then, you should be on your way.”

Glen waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away flies.

“Yes.”

I nodded and rose to my feet.

“Thank you. And…”

I wanted to say something more to Glen, who had offered such sharp yet humane counsel, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could recall was the image of blood flowing from his lips not long ago.

“Please… live a long life.”

I spat out those words and fled the room like a coward.

“Good heavens! ‘May you live long’—what kind of thing is that to say here! If you ask me, that brat’s the real problem!”

Rimer exhaled a sigh as he watched the door through which I had departed.

“I hate to admit it, but you’re making sense today. Ugh, this is infuriating.”

Sheryl let out a weary sigh.

“Perhaps things will improve gradually.”

Roen patted Rimer and Sheryl on the shoulder, urging them to understand.

“Ugh….”

The three of them lifted their heads at the groan that echoed from ahead.

Glen Zigheart was clutching his left chest, his lips pressed firmly together.

“Gasp!”

“H-Head of House?”

“Could it be an internal injury!”

As Rimer, Sheryl, and Roen rushed toward Glen Zigheart in alarm, he lifted his head. His lips were trembling slightly.

“Live long….”

Glen Zigheart gazed at the door with eyes brimming with emotion.

“The way you think of Martha, and how pure and kind you are… it’s truly admirable.”

“….”

The gazes of the three froze once more.

*

*

*

I returned to the Dormitory and settled into position, activating the Ring of Fire. As it resonated, the excruciating pain coursing through my entire body subsided, and my physical recovery accelerated.

‘It’s definitely different.’

The Manhwa Palace and Glacial Technique were both exceptional cultivation methods, but the Ring of Fire stood apart. I could feel the ruptured blood vessels and torn skin regenerating bit by bit.

Whoooosh!

Lost in cultivation, I had restored all four mana circuits when I heard footsteps approaching my chamber door.

Knock, knock.

Footsteps were followed by a knock and Dorian’s voice.

“Vice Master. You have a visitor!”

At the word “visitor,” I opened my eyes. I could sense two people standing behind Dorian.

‘Was I expecting guests?’

I rose and opened the door.

“Your complexion has improved considerably.”

Two women approached from behind Dorian, who wore a grin. The woman in front was the elderly woman who had emerged from Glen’s room, and beside her stood Deningrose, the Branch Master of the Black Market’s Granseville division.

“Haa…”

Deningrose lost her balance, covering her mouth, and her shoulder bumped against the wall.

“Thank goodness. Truly…”

She clenched her chest and bit her lips firmly.

“Branch Master?”

“Do not worry. She simply felt her strength leave upon seeing that you are alive, Vice Master.”

The elderly woman patted Deningrose’s back and offered a gentle smile.

“Hmm….”

I nodded slightly as I watched Deningrose exhale softly, her eyes closed.

‘She did work hard for us.’

When I heard the story from the Gwangpung Unit about recent events, Deningrose’s name had come up. She had apparently mobilized Black Market agents throughout the night to locate the Eden Branch, and it seemed that tension had finally released now.

“Thank you. I owe my life to your efforts.”

I bowed my head respectfully to Deningrose.

“Not at all.”

Deningrose shook her head. The way she instantly regained her composure and her eyes became calm and collected made it clear she was no ordinary information broker.

“If it weren’t for you, Deputy Master, I would have died being toyed with by the 7th Apostle.”

She offered a faint smile, saying she had merely repaid a debt.

“And this person is….”

I looked at the elderly woman who had her hand firmly on Deningrose’s shoulder. The way she treated the branch director suggested she was undoubtedly a high-ranking official of the Black Market.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Roselin, who operates the Black Market.”

The old woman greeted me with the refined posture of a noblewoman.

“The Black Market Master?”

She hadn’t said she managed a Black Market branch—she’d said she operated the Black Market itself. In other words, this old woman was the owner of the Black Market spread across the entire Continent.

“Yes. I am honored to oversee the Black Market.”

She laughed as though it were nothing of consequence.

“Ah, forgive my late introduction. I am Raon Zigheart, commander of the Gwangpung Unit.”

Raon bowed his head to Roselin.

‘Honored, she says. As if that were true.’

It was Roselin herself—the current Black Market Master standing before me—who had built the Black Market to its present scale. For her, who held all the power of the Black Market in her hands, such words were merely a gesture of humility.

“Please, come inside.”

I couldn’t leave them standing at the door, so I invited both of them in and seated them at the table.

“Dorian. I apologize, but would you bring us some tea?”

“Yes.”

Dorian answered but did not leave.

“Ah, here it is.”

I retrieved three teacups and a teapot from my ship’s pocket. As I placed crimson tea leaves into the pot, it suddenly began to boil, releasing billowing steam.

Ssshhhhh!

A rich yet crystalline tea fragrance emanated from the pot, filling the chamber with its warmth.

‘Well then.’

Raon chuckled softly. No matter how many times I witnessed it, the pocket and its contents never ceased to amaze. A genuine sense of wonder stirred within me.

“It’s Benjar green tea. It’s been dried carefully, so the aroma should be exceptional.”

Dorian smiled as though he were a butler, pouring tea into the three cups before us.

“You’re not from an ordinary house either, are you?”

Roselin gazed at Dorian’s ship pocket with a subtle smile. She took a sip of her tea, then withdrew a small wooden box from her bosom and set it down.

“This is….”

“Ubo’s Hundred Remedies.”

“Ubo’s Hundred Remedies? Why would you….”

“A gift for the Head of House.”

My mouth fell open. Ubo is a master of elixir crafting, known as a master of healing arts. The White Elixir he produces is a miraculous cure said to revive even the dead—I never expected such a precious gift to be offered.

“Why are you giving this to me…?”

“We bear some responsibility for the Cult Leader’s abduction. Since we could offer no aid and only received help instead, it’s only proper that we show this much sincerity.”

She extended the wooden case containing the White Elixir forward.

I paused.

Rather than the elixir itself, I studied Roselin’s face. Her eyes were serene, clear and unburdened by any hidden agenda—yet I couldn’t simply accept them at face value.

I glanced sideways at Deningrose. She regarded the White Elixir as if it were the most natural thing in the world, her expression utterly unmoved.

Their reactions differed subtly.

Roselin had presented Ubo’s White Elixir as though offering it to the Head of House Glen rather than to me, whereas Deningrose seemed genuinely concerned, giving the medicine out of worry.

Yet both appeared to share the same conviction—that this much was the least they should offer.

“Thank you.”

I bowed my head and accepted the wooden case, drawing it toward me. It was light, yet carried a profound warmth.

“It’s only natural.”

Roselin waved her hand dismissively and took a sip of her tea.

“The tea tastes wonderful.”

“Thank you!”

Dorian chuckled while holding the teapot.

-Does that mean it’s delicious? You should try some too!

Wrath, oblivious to the atmosphere, interjected and pointed at the teacup.

‘That’s not going to work with you.’

-That is for the True Demon King to decide!

‘Sigh….’

I exhaled and took a sip of tea.

-Tsk! Bland and insipid.

Wrath clicked his tongue and retreated into the Frost Flower Bracelet. This was absurd—it felt like raising a child.

“Then shall we move on to the next matter?”

Roselin set down her teacup with a subtle smile.

“The next matter, you say….”

“You never told this child what reward awaited upon completing the task. Or rather, there was no opportunity. Since you promised to grant anything, I must honor that pledge.”

“Ah….”

I had indeed made such a promise, and I had even considered what to ask for. Yet I could not bring myself to voice it aloud.

“It’s not necessary.”

Raon slowly shook his head.

“I’ve heard that the entire Black Market mobilized to secure my rescue. We gave help, and we received help in return. Anything beyond that would be excessive.”

It was true. Greed becomes poison when it knows no bounds. Everyone had survived—what more could I possibly desire?

‘To accept that would be shameless.’

Had the matter ended with eliminating the 7th Apostle in Granseville, I would have received the promised compensation and information. But circumstances had spiraled messily, and I had instead received the Black Market’s aid. The original reward was one thing, but to demand more would be dishonorable.

“This child is the Black Market’s branch master and one of my successors.”

Roselin stroked Deningrose’s head.

“Though we are not as established as Zigheart, we cannot go back on the words of our successor.”

She met Raon’s gaze directly, a faint smile crossing her lips.

“Tell me what you desire.”

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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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