The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 318
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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 318
A brief silence descended upon the Royal Council Chamber. The heads of the Six Emperors and their advisors standing behind them all fixed their gaze on Glen without uttering a word.
“That….”
After about ten seconds, Chamber’s lips parted for the first time.
“Did I hear that right? Did the word ‘cute’ just come out of your mouth?”
Her eyes trembled as if she found it utterly absurd.
“Heh, I never expected the Northern Destruction King to say such a thing.”
King Lecross let out an awkward laugh, shaking his head.
“Kahahaha! Old man. Have you gone senile in the meantime? Cute? There’s no place for such things in the world of warriors! You of all people should know that better than anyone!”
Ogram clutched his forehead and burst into raucous laughter. His pride wounded by being momentarily suppressed by Glen’s aura, he raised his voice so loudly that the council chamber shook.
“Hmm, perhaps….”
Derus Robert didn’t respond immediately, remaining silent for a moment longer before speaking.
“Did the Beast King mean that the ones who appeared in the Gwangpung Unit are cute because they’re inexperienced?”
He narrowed his eyes, recalling the words the Beast King had uttered before Glen unleashed his aura.
“Ah!”
Chamber clapped her hands and nodded.
“Right. That muscle pig did say something like that.”
She smirked and cast a sidelong glance at Ogram.
“To be honest, the Gwangpung Unit’s young warriors are far more charming than those bloated children you’ve raised like balloons.”
“I told you to shut that mouth of yours, didn’t I?”
Ogram glared at Chamber, grinding his teeth.
“Why are you whining about what comes out of my own mouth?”
Chamber didn’t back down, meeting Ogram’s gaze head-on.
“Heh, so that’s what you meant. Indeed, the swordsmen of the Gwangpung Unit possess remarkable beauty. Particularly that boy Raon—he’s among the most handsome individuals I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”
King Lecross stepped between Ogram and Chamber with a smile.
“He certainly stood out at the Banquet Hall. A human more handsome than an elf is rare, but he’s truly impressive.”
Chamber nodded in agreement with King Lecross’s words.
“Ahem…”
Glen Zigheart suppressed the overwhelming aura that had blanketed the council chamber and let out a quiet cough, his hand covering his mouth.
“Appearance? As I’ve said, what matters to a warrior isn’t his face—it’s his power. True strength is nothing but overwhelming, simple violence.”
Ogram clenched his fist on the table. With just a light application of force, the Royal Palace trembled as though struck by an earthquake.
“You’ve been babbling noisily since earlier.”
Glen Zigheart looked down at Ogram with a cold smile.
“The strength you boast of—our children surpass it far more than your own offspring, who’ve merely cultivated vanity muscles.”
He was certain that the Gwangpung Unit would emerge victorious over the Beast Alliance’s warriors.
“Kahahahaha!”
Chamber burst into raucous laughter, stamping her feet on the table.
“Vanity muscles! That’s it! That’s exactly right! They’re nothing but size! When did things become this entertaining while I wasn’t looking!”
“That’s… cough!”
King Lecross, who had been about to stop Chamber, couldn’t hold back his laughter either and covered his mouth.
“Phew.”
Sheryl, standing behind Glen, exhaled softly as she watched the plate spinning on the table.
‘Who would believe these people are the heads of the Six Emperors.’
They teased and mocked each other without restraint. If a stranger had been present at this gathering, they would have thought they were watching ordinary gossip among neighbors rather than transcendent beings.
‘The Head of House truly resembles Raon.’
Raon had once called Eckon, the vice commander of the Heavenly Sword Squad who boasted of his strength, “fashion muscle.” It seemed there was a connection between grandfather and grandson.
“Old man.”
Ogram glared at Glen with blazing eyes. An overwhelmingly powerful aura surged and burned without end.
“If you’re so confident, then make a personal wager with me.”
“A wager?”
“Yes. Since you said you believe in the Gale Wind Squad or whatever it’s called, let’s bet on the victor of a duel.”
With those words, he placed a small wooden box on the table.
“It’s Saun-hwan, a spiritual elixir made with our tribe’s secret methods. It enhances not only aura but also physique. By your standards, it’s a supreme-grade spiritual elixir.”
“Agreed.”
Glen unhesitatingly unbuckled the True Heavenly Sword from his waist and placed it on the table.
“W-a sword?”
“That’s the True Heavenly Sword!”
“Insane….”
“Gasp!”
King Lecross, Chamber, Derus, and Ogram all stared at the True Heavenly Sword placed on the table with their mouths agape.
“Gasp!”
“A sword….”
The advisors of each faction, who had been standing like wooden puppets, widened their eyes in surprise.
“….”
Sheryl and Roen, placing complete trust in Glen, stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, offering no reaction whatsoever.
“Ah, sir. Are you really going to wager that? The values don’t even compare.”
Even as Chamber urged him to back down, Glen shook his head.
“If you have confidence, you must stake something of this caliber. An elixir? That’s merely flaunting the smallness of one’s own vessel.”
Glen let out a scornful laugh as he regarded the bewildered Ogram. His eyes blazed with absolute certainty in Raon and the Gwangpung Unit’s victory.
“Ugh….”
Ogram clenched his lips and slammed the table.
“Fine!”
He placed the coat that had been draped across his burly torso onto the table.
“To match that blade, an elixir alone won’t suffice. If your grandson wins the duel tournament, I’ll hand over this coat along with elixirs matching the number of children.”
“It falls short, but I accept.”
Glen nodded calmly.
“Wow, can I join too? I want to! I love this kind of thing!”
“You’re out!”
Chamber threw her staff onto the table, asking to be included, but the two men rejected her outright.
“Well then, shall we conduct the meeting now? Let us recall the reason we’ve gathered here.”
King Lecross tapped the table lightly and passed over the documents.
“….”
Derus said nothing until the wager was finalized, his sunken eyes fixed steadily upon Glen.
*
*
*
Clang!
Steel clashed against steel with a violent ring, and both Lunan Slion and the Owen knight staggered back five paces from the center of the Sparring Arena.
“Hmph!”
The knight bearing Jena’s name surged forward like a gale, driving his blade toward Lunan Slion’s left flank. The sharp edge of his sword cut through the air with the precision of lightning.
‘The flank.’
Lunan Slion blinked as he observed the sword strikes aimed at his shoulder and abdomen.
‘Slower than Raon.’
During training, Raon’s blade pierced through openings with an eerie speed and force that felt less like exploiting gaps and more like shattering them entirely.
Compared to those terrifying attacks, Jena’s strikes felt no more substantial than twigs.
Crash!
Lunan Slion lowered his stance slightly and brought Seolhwa down in a sweeping arc. The blade, infused with crystalline frost, easily deflected Jena’s sword strike.
“Impressive, but this is where it truly begins!”
Jena smiled coldly and charged again, bringing his blade down with renewed intensity. His sword strikes flowed like a river, each one carrying an unyielding current.
“So do I.”
Lunan Slion nodded calmly and summoned a veil of frost around her.
“I do as well.”
She pushed off the ground lightly and charged toward Jena, moving faster than his incoming thrust and bringing Seolhwa down in a powerful strike.
Clang clang clang clang!
The two women unleashed a dazzling barrage of sword strikes, their movements carrying a lethal intensity as they probed for openings in each other’s defense. Initially, Jena seemed to dominate, but as Lunan unfurled her swordplay like moonlight dancing across the night sky, she gradually began to yield ground.
“Still… not enough…?”
Jena, who had been knocked back by Lunan’s blade, prepared to charge forward like a raging bull before abruptly freezing in place.
“Frost?”
Her armor and boots were completely encased in ice, adhered firmly to the ground. Not only her armor and boots—her hands and feet refused to obey her commands.
“When… when did this happen…?”
“From the beginning.”
Lunan brushed away the frost blooming from her blade and blinked slowly.
“Ugh…”
Jena attempted to force herself to move, but the chill had penetrated not just her armor and body, but deep into her core, leaving her no choice but to surrender.
“I… I yield.”
She raised her left hand—the only limb still capable of movement—to declare her defeat.
“Thank you for the match.”
Lunan bowed respectfully and approached Jena, dispelling the frigid bonds that held her captive.
“Uooooooooooh!”
“Lunan! Lunan! Lunan!”
“Moonlit Blade!”
“She won again!”
“Zigheart is absolutely insane—they never lose unless they face each other!”
“I never knew the Gwangpung Unit was this strong…”
The spectators, who had dismissed Zigheart before the match began, erupted into thunderous cheers at Lunan’s victory, their voices nearly tearing through the arena.
“B-but isn’t it a bit frightening?”
“Right? They’re all fighters. They don’t back down.”
“Rather than fighters, aren’t they more like mad dogs? Rabid dogs.”
“Not Gale Wind, but Mad Hound….”
“I actually prefer that. It’s refreshing.”
The transformation of the Gwangpung Unit into mad hounds spread far more rapidly among the spectators than Rimer had worried. Yet since everyone loved combat, they favored it rather than despised it.
“You did well.”
I nodded at Lunan as he descended from his victorious match.
“Yeah. But Raon….”
Lunan approached with shuffling steps, his eyes downcast.
“Do I not have to do the concentration training anymore?”
“No.”
I shook my head firmly.
“Since all your opponents so far have been weaker than you, I can’t tell yet.”
When I said there was still a long way to go, Lunan’s expression crumpled ever so slightly.
“You’re really ugly….”
“Yeah, I know.”
Whether because of Ensia or not, Lunan spoke often about appearance, but since I held little interest in such matters, his jab meant nothing to me.
“Hmph.”
Lunan wrinkled his nose and walked toward where the Gwangpung Unit stood.
I watched his retreating back before turning my gaze toward the Spectator Stands.
‘Now it’s the quarterfinals….’
What is that man doing and where?
Sheryl, who assisted Glen, and unlike Roen, Rimer—who should have been here—was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t understand what he was doing, abandoning the Unit like this.
“Yes! Got it!”
As I was shaking my head, a familiar voice cheered from the Spectator Stands.
-There he is….
‘There he is.’
Wrath also noticed Rimer in the Spectator Stands and frowned.
-That bastard needs discipline. The True Demon King would…ah.
He raised his fist but stopped.
-Yes, you’ll do better….
Wrath lowered his hand, recalling the Gwangpung Unit he had trained without his human guise. His jaw trembled as he muttered that this human was more wicked than a demon king.
‘Don’t worry. The moment I surpass that human, I’ll kill… no, educate him.’
I fixed Rimer in the Spectator Stands with a cold smile.
‘Now then….’
I turned my gaze to the bracket floating in the air.
‘They’re all doing well.’
The Gwangpung Unit hadn’t lost unless they faced fellow swordsmen or there was a clear gap in skill. Three members—Burren, Lunan, and Crain—had already advanced to the quarterfinals, and Martha would soon join them.
‘Four out of eight in the quarterfinals….’
Only two would advance to the semifinals.
Unfortunately, Lunan and Burren had been matched against each other, and Crain would face the Third Prince and be eliminated. In the end, only one of Lunan or Burren and Martha would advance to the semifinals.
‘Should I tell them to withdraw?’
I turned around, contemplating whether to eliminate one of them to secure an absolute victory. Burren and Lunan were honing their concentration to focus entirely on their opponents.
‘There’s no need for that.’
This sparring tournament wasn’t merely about winning. Since strengthening the swordsmen’s abilities was equally important, there was no reason to issue orders to hold back.
‘I should prepare myself now as well.’
Today’s matches would proceed through the quarterfinals. The semifinals and finals would take place tomorrow, so I needed to prepare for Master-level sparring.
I narrowed my eyes as I observed the man in referee’s attire standing beneath the bracket.
‘Matio.’
Derus had apparently decided to observe me in earnest, sending Matio as the referee. He was scrutinizing me with concealed intent rather than watching the sparring arena.
‘He’s not the only danger.’
Tacheon. As Merlin had mentioned, Tacheon was targeting me. Tomorrow, when the leaders of the Six Emperors would attend the semifinals and finals, today was his only opportunity to strike.
This place held not only my future but the futures of other Six Emperors’ heirs as well, so he would certainly make his move today.
‘Wait, actually.’
I lowered my gaze from the sky to Matio, who now served as referee, and licked my lips.
‘I can determine the moment Tacheon attacks.’
Tacheon would certainly exploit an opening. I could deliberately create an opening to lure out his attack.
I grasped the hilt of the Heavenly Sword and let an excited smile spread across my face.
‘I can eliminate these troublesome obstacles all at once.’
*
*
*
After a brief rest, a new Announcer climbed onto the Sparring Arena.
“Thank you for your patience! We shall now commence the Expert-tier Quarterfinals!”
Perhaps to lift the somber atmosphere, he called out with a voice brighter than his predecessor’s.
“Unfortunately, Ricky Laron of Valcar has forfeited, so Martha Zigheart has advanced directly to the Semifinals.”
With Martha’s opponent, a knight from Valcar, withdrawing due to injury, she ascended to the Semifinals automatically.
“Damn it! Running away like a coward!”
Martha ground her teeth, frustrated at advancing to the Semifinals without a fight.
“If you call yourself a warrior, you should die here!”
She stamped her foot and cursed at Ricky Laron, who lay unconscious in the Medical Office.
“Now, let us begin the first match. Oh! What a coincidence! Burren Zigheart and Lunan Slion, both of Zigheart!”
At the Announcer’s cry, Burren and Lunan ascended to the Sparring Arena from the left and right respectively.
“Who do you think will win?”
Martha approached me, narrowing her eyes.
“Hard to say…”
I exhaled softly, observing Burren’s fierce gaze and Lunan’s serene eyes.
“Either outcome wouldn’t be surprising.”
Excluding Rimer and myself, Martha was undoubtedly the strongest in the Gwangpung Unit.
However, the outcome between Burren and Lunan, who ranked below her, remained uncertain. Since our trainee days until now, neither had ever established clear superiority.
“This won’t be entertaining. Even if they’re mad, they’ll recognize each other as comrades.”
“Right. Even the Zigheart crazed with madness—the semifinals are right in front of us. One of them will yield.”
“Will Burren advance? He was moving impossibly fast.”
“Lunan isn’t falling behind either. Freezing to restrict movement—he’s already reached mastery!”
The spectators were convinced that since this was a duel between Zigheart members with the semifinals so close, the two wouldn’t fight with their full strength.
“Fools.”
Martha scoffed as she looked at the audience.
“Anyone foolish enough not to give their all in the fight before them has no right to bear the names of Zigheart and Gwangpung Unit! Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Of course!”
The Gwangpung Unit swordsmen nodded in agreement with Martha’s words.
“Hmm.”
I turned to look at the eyes of the Gwangpung Unit swordsmen. Their gazes burned with the conviction that they must fight with their full strength.
‘They’ve grown well.’
Though their martial skills were still immature, their spirits had advanced one step further as warriors. A smile bloomed from my satisfaction.
“Then we shall begin the first duel of the quarterfinals!”
The Announcer descended to the floor of the Sparring Arena and raised his hand.
Boom!
Before his hand could point to the sky, Burren and Lunan moved simultaneously.
Clang!
A tremendous sword strike collided at the center of the Sparring Arena, and a biting wind erupted into the air. Blue frost cascaded down around the arena’s perimeter.
Crash!
The two clashed their blades once more at close range. Cascading wind blades and surging frost blades collided, unfurling a magnificent azure radiance.
“Graaahhh!”
“Hnngh!”
Burren Zigheart and Lunan Slion unleashed the full extent of their accumulated power as if they faced mortal enemies rather than allies from the same house.
Boom!
Wind and frost clashed endlessly, and a piercing tempest swept across the Sparring Arena.
“W-what is this…?”
“They’re on the same side!”
“Why are they going all out! The semifinals are tomorrow!”
“It’s not just going all out—they’re trying to kill each other, aren’t they?”
“Do they bite anyone who stands before them?”
“They’re… truly rabid beasts…”
The spectators watched with gaping mouths as Burren Zigheart and Lunan Slion thrust their blades without hesitation toward each other’s vital points. No one had anticipated they would fight with such intensity against their own faction on the eve of the semifinals.
Clang!
Lunan Slion and Burren Zigheart paid no heed to the murmurs around them, their swords never ceasing their dance. At a distance where each could hear the other’s breathing, they unleashed strikes aimed at severing that very breath.
Whoosh!
The piercing gale split through the frost-laden blunt blade that dominated space, while the biting cold suppressed the roar of the wind blade that tore through the atmosphere.
Their strikes held no consideration for elemental advantage—only the will to victory. They fought with everything they had, ascending to ever greater heights.
Crash!
After clashing for what seemed an eternity, Burren Zigheart and Lunan Slion were simultaneously repelled, each retreating to opposite ends of the Sparring Arena.
“Huff…”
“Haah…”
Though their breathing had grown ragged from exertion, neither’s eyes wavered in the slightest.
“I’ve wanted to break you ever since our trainee days.”
Burren clenched his teeth and raised his blade. Above the silvery steel, a razor-sharp gale that dominated the Northern Sea surged forth.
“Let’s settle this here.”
“I’m going to win.”
Lunan nodded and grasped Seolhwa with both hands, drawing it back like an archer nocking an arrow. Blue frost scattered like moonlight, unleashing a tremendous wave of aura.
Gooooooooh!
As the two warriors’ auras rose higher, the Spectator Stands grew quieter. When silence descended as if the arena had become a library, a nervous spectator dropped the beer mug he’d been holding.
Crash!
The moment the old beer mug shattered into fragments, Burren and Lunan kicked off the ground simultaneously.
Shiiiiing!
From Burren’s blade erupted a gale that cleaved the Northern Sea, while from Lunan’s sword blazed a moonlight that seemed to freeze the Continent itself.
Kuwaaaaang!
Two types of formidable sword auras collided, mercilessly splitting the Sparring Arena asunder, and a powerful wave of energy surged skyward.
Whoooosh.
After the tempest of frost and wind subsided, the Sparring Arena’s condition became visible. Lunan and Burren lay collapsed at the center of the arena, their eyes closed. It seemed they had continued swinging their blades to the very end while enduring the impact of that tremendous force.
“Phew….”
I activated the Ring of Fire to assess the two warriors’ conditions and let out a relieved sigh.
‘No critical injuries.’
Both had exhausted their aura to the absolute limit and were in a state of depletion. There were no serious or severe injuries.
“B-Burren. Lunan. Match cannot continue! Th-there is no victor!”
The Announcer swallowed hard at the unbelievable sight before him, then disqualified them both.
“S-stretchers! Please come up right away!”
The healers who had been standing by rushed over to collect the two and headed toward the Medical Tent.
“Ooooh….”
“Uoooooooh!”
“They’re insane! Seriously!”
“They’re from the same faction, right?! Why are they so obsessed with fighting?!”
“Zigheart! Zigheart!”
“Gwangpung Unit! Gwangpung Unit!”
The spectators who had initially dismissed and looked down on Zigheart erupted in thunderous cheers upon witnessing the overwhelming martial prowess and relentless fighting spirit of the Gwangpung Unit swordsmen.
From the Round of 16 onward, Zigheart commanded the loudest roars from the Spectator Stands.
“Blue Moon Blade! Blue Moon Blade!”
“Whirlwind Blade! Whirlwind Blade!”
The spectators bestowed upon Lunan and Burren the epithets of Blue Moon and Whirlwind respectively, their cheers so thunderous that even the unconscious warriors could have heard them.
“Hah!”
“Are they mad?”
“Why would they go that far against their own allies….”
“They’re truly rabid dogs….”
The warriors from other factions trembled with disgust as they watched the Zigheart swordsmen.
‘He’s caught off guard too, it seems.’
I smiled as I observed Matio’s awkward expression.
‘You should enjoy the spectacle while you can.’
Today will be the last time you serve as a judge.
-You’re going to clean that up? Here?
Wrath narrowed his eyes as if questioning what I was saying.
‘That’s right. I can’t kill it, but I can eliminate it.’
-How on earth?
‘Poison counters poison.’
I gazed up at the azure sky and offered a cold smile.
Only poison can purge poison.
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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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