The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 33

—————

This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

—————

Chapter 33

A month after Rimer’s declaration that the Sparring Arena would be held, the trainees threw themselves into their training, imagining their future opponents.
They honed their swordplay and cultivated their auras with all their might, determined to display their full capabilities regardless of who they faced.

Yet there was one trainee whose approach remained unchanged.
Raon and Martha. The attitudes of these two, whose opponents were already determined, did not waver.
Raon trained with full intensity from dawn until night as always, while Martha, befitting the strongest among the trainees, displayed an air of leisure.

Thus the month passed swiftly as each trainee devoted themselves to their practice, and the morning of the sparring arrived.

The trainees’ faces brimmed with excitement and tension—this was their chance to prove the martial prowess they had cultivated over nearly a year and earn favorable scores from the instructors.

Martha, however, gazed toward one figure with a smile, as if none of that mattered to her.

‘Now I can finally repay him.’

I clenched the forearm I had injured seven months ago when Raon counterattacked and struck me.

‘It was my first time.’

Even in the Back Alley before coming here, I had never been struck by someone my age. It was my first humiliation since birth, and I still could not forget it.

I had simply waited for the chance to repay that day’s shame. Now, after eight months, that day had finally arrived.

‘Today it ends.’

Raon Zigheart had only been cultivating his aura for a month, while I had been at it for over three years. This was essentially a meaningless match.

One could call it cowardly, but wasting time waiting for someone without talent was pointless.

‘I have things to do.’

I could not afford to be held back by a thin wall like Raon. I needed to grow stronger as quickly as possible—there was someone I had to save.

Whoosh!

Martha clenched the golden aura surging from her palm, her lips pressed into a firm line.

*

*

*

I sat on the right side of the hastily constructed Sparring Arena and checked my status window.

【Status Window】
Name: Raon Zigheart.
Title: First Victory.
Condition: Curse of Bitter Cold (Six Strands), Reduced Physical Capability, Reduced Mana Sensitivity.
Traits: Wrath, Ring of Fire (3-Star), Water Resistance (3-Star), Sense of Legend (1-Star), Myriad Harmony (2-Star), Bitter Cold Energy (2-Star), Fire Resistance (2-Star)

Strength: 35
Agility: 36
Stamina: 35
Vitality: 26
Perception: 50

Not only had the number of traits increased significantly, but my stats had risen incomparably through training that pushed beyond my limits.

‘Not bad at all.’

I smiled with satisfaction at the clearly improved numbers on my status window.

“Everyone, pay attention!”

Rimer’s voice rang out as I closed the status window. He surveyed the entire Sparring Arena floor before nodding.

“Watching others fight is just as beneficial as sparring directly. Observe how the other trainees move and plan your own strategies for the matches ahead.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Then first match: Burren Zigheart versus Dorian.”
“Understood!”
“Gulp!”

Burren stood confidently and entered the Sparring Arena, but Dorian shuffled forward, trembling visibly.

“I-Instructor, sir?”
“What is it?”
“I forfeit!”

Dorian raised his hand forcefully and declared his withdrawal.

“….”

Everyone fell silent at his desperate cry. Of course, their eyes betrayed the thought: what kind of person does something like this?

“We haven’t even started yet?”

Rimer scratched his cheek with a bewildered expression.

“M-My body isn’t feeling well. I’ve had body aches and chills since yesterday. *Cough!*”

Dorian let out an awkward dry cough, his lips trembling.

“Ah, it’s serious.”

He pulled an ice pack from the pouch at his waist and placed it on his head. His thoroughness in preparation was truly remarkable.

-How pathetic. If you were my subordinate, I would have severed your neck on the spot!
‘It’s unfolding as expected.’

I had anticipated Dorian would act this way. Given his usual character, it was inevitable.

“Dorian. Fight at least once anyway. Even if you lose, there’s something to be learned. I’ll stop it before you get seriously hurt, so don’t worry.”
“Th-Then could you perhaps change opponents… gulp!”

Dorian lifted his head and made eye contact with Burren, his body trembling slightly.

“Regardless of what status you held outside. You are now a trainee of Zigheart. Should you tarnish the honor of Zigheart, I will sever your neck right here and now.”

Burren’s voice was so menacing it didn’t sound like it came from a child.

“Gasp!”

Dorian’s mouth fell open and he hid his body behind Rimer.

“Dorian. It’s merely a sparring match, nothing more. Don’t be afraid—think of it as an opportunity to demonstrate everything you’ve learned so far.”
“Yes, I understand.”

Rimer’s calm words eased Dorian’s trembling, if only slightly.

“Burren. You needn’t take this so seriously either. Honor is valuable, but there are far more important things in this world.”
“….”

Burren didn’t respond, but sensing his intensity was excessive, he relaxed his stance.

“Hmm….”

I narrowed my eyes as I watched Rimer smiling between Burren and Dorian.

‘He really knows how to reach them.’

His advice had struck home with both of them. Despite appearing to do nothing but play around every day, he was observing the trainees carefully.

‘So this is what a true teacher is.’

In my past life, when I was being raised as an assassin, an instructor would have slit both Dorian’s and Burren’s throats for such hesitation.

A true teacher was one who soothed their students and enabled them to unleash their full potential.

“Then, take your positions.”

With Rimer’s intervention settled, Burren and Dorian faced each other.

“Begin!”

The moment the signal rang out, Burren charged forward and drew his blade.

Because he was channeling his aura, his speed was incomparably faster than in their previous match.

“Kyaaah!”

Dorian shrieked and twisted his body. Thanks to his evasion, Burren’s blade pierced empty air by mere inches.

“Stop running!”

Burren furrowed his brow and brought his sword down, while Dorian merely shuffled his feet, waving his training blade about.

“Argh!”

Burren’s blade swept through more than five times, but Dorian did nothing but flee to the end.

“How long are you going to keep running?”

Burren narrowed his eyes and stomped the ground. The distance closed in an instant. He had unleashed his hidden strength.

“Ugh!”

Dorian tried to pull back urgently, but it was too late. Burren’s training blade was already pressed against his waist.

Thwack!

With a sharp sound, Dorian’s body was sent flying to the right.

“Ow, ow, I yield! I yield!”

Dorian clutched his waist and cried out his surrender, writhing.

‘His body is quite flexible, as expected.’

I chuckled softly as I watched Dorian lying on the ground. His talent wasn’t bad. Especially his speed in aura manipulation and footwork were not inferior to those of the direct line.

Of course, even so, it was far beyond his capacity to handle Burren’s skill.

“Burren. You still can’t control your emotions. If you had fought properly, your blade would have touched him within five exchanges.”
“…You’re right.”

Burren nodded silently and stepped back.

“Dorian. Why do you keep running? I told you that you can do it. If you had stood your ground and fought instead of fleeing, you could have lasted longer.”
“I-I’m sorry. But I was s-scared….”
“You can be scared, but if you don’t overcome it here, you won’t even be able to stand in real combat. To become a swordsman, you must conquer that fear.”

Unlike Burren, Dorian listened to my nagging for quite some time before leaving.

“Next, Lunan and Crain.”
“Yes.”
“Yes!”

Lunan Slion and Crain from the Branch Family walked toward the Sparring Arena.

Crain was quite a powerful child from the Branch Family and one of Burren’s subordinates who had charged at me before. His skills were decent, but he was no match for Lunan.

“Begin.”

The moment Rimer lowered his hand, Lunan and Crain lunged forward.

“Haaah!”

Crain took the initiative. Gritting his teeth, he swung his training sword horizontally from his left side.

“….”

Lunan maintained his usual expression and raised his blade, white frost billowing from its surface.

Clang!

With the sound of metal crumpling, Crain’s sword flew from his grip and embedded itself in the packed earth of the Sparring Arena.

Lunan had disarmed Crain even as he followed through with his own blade.

“Ugh….”

Crain staggered backward, his hands trembling.

“That’s enough.”

Rimer scratched his chin as he stepped into the Sparring Arena.

“Crain. You tensed up too much. You put far too much strength into your wrist and grip. When holding a sword, you must allow for flexibility.”
“I’m terribly sorry.”
“And Lunan. Your timing with the counterattack was excellent, but you didn’t channel your aura all the way to the blade’s tip.”
“Understood.”

Lunan Slion nodded with an impassive expression.

“Well done. Then next….”

*

*

*

The sparring training continued until sunset, and only two remained.

“Raon Zigheart, Martha Zigheart. Come forward.”
“I thought I’d grow old and die waiting.”

Martha’s dark eyes gleamed with excitement. In contrast, Raon faced her with an unreadable gaze.

“Eight months is quite a long time for me to hold back. Let’s finish this now.”
“Should we make one more wager?”

Raon raised a single finger toward Martha, who bared her teeth in a grin.

“What?”
“The loser obeys the winner. In other words, how about obeying the top student’s commands?”
“Obey? I don’t need to obey some dull-witted fool like you, but it doesn’t matter.”

Martha nodded with narrowed eyes. She didn’t believe for a moment that she would lose.

“This is today’s final match. Everyone, watch carefully. Then….”

Rimer smiled enigmatically and raised his hand.

“Begin!”

The moment Rimer’s hand dropped, Martha kicked off the ground. With a thunderous boom, her face rushed toward me.

Whoosh!

I drew my sword to meet Martha’s descending training blade.

Clang!

Sparks erupted as blade met blade, scattering into the air like fireflies.

“Curious why I haven’t used my aura yet?”

Martha pressed forward with her sword, a smirk playing at her lips.

“Let’s test our swordsmanship first, and then I’ll show you what kind of power an aura truly wields!”

The moment her voice brushed past my ears, her swordsmanship transformed dramatically. It wasn’t merely speed and strength—the trajectory itself became ethereal and unpredictable.

Clang!

I deflected Martha’s training sword, narrowing my eyes.

‘An unfamiliar technique.’

Swift, powerful, and intricate. It appeared to be an advanced swordsmanship taught during direct family instruction.

‘Strong, certainly.’

Yet imperfect. It would have been more effective to employ the Resonant Blade that everyone knew.

Crack! Clang!

I unleashed the first five forms of the Resonant Blade in rapid succession, neutralizing Martha’s techniques.

“You blocked everything?”

After unleashing dozens of new techniques without breaking through my defense, Martha’s expression grew cold and sharp.

“All swordsmanship begins with five fundamental forms. Once you understand those, defending becomes simple.”

I parried her incoming blade and closed the distance, driving my fist forward.

Whoosh!

She pivoted to her right, evading the punch, then swept her sword toward my waist, seizing the opening.

Clang!

I angled my blade to deflect the attack, then pressed forward against Martha.

“As expected.”

Martha swept her sword in a wide arc and retreated backward.

“I’ll admit it. You have talent. But that’s only in swordsmanship. A half-baked warrior with weak aura has already walked a predetermined path!”

Golden energy swirled around her. The Training Ground trembled faintly as her earth-attribute aura rippled outward.

Boom!

Martha stamped her foot. The ground split open as her practice sword pierced through the air.

Hah!

I raised my blade against the cascading golden energy.

Crash!

My legs buckled just from blocking the strike. It was the same charge as before, but the speed and power had transcended to another dimension.

“Oh, you blocked it?”

Martha’s eyes curved like crescents as she peered between our clashing blades.

“Now do you understand? The power that a sword imbued with proper aura can unleash.”

She tilted her chin up, observing my trembling wrists and thighs.

“Aura demands talent far more than swordsmanship. With your talent—creating only a pea-sized aura in seven months—becoming a swordsman is impossible.”

Martha’s sword strikes accelerated, growing faster and more powerful with each blow. My entire body staggered with every parry.

“This aura you’re seeing isn’t even my full strength. I’ll give you one last chance. Surrender now. Next time, I’ll shatter your bones.”
“You talk too much.”

I brought my sword down to the right. With a sharp crack, Martha was pushed back.

“Rejecting even my final consideration? You really are foolish.”

Martha’s voice grew as cold and biting as a winter wind.

“Talent this, talent that—every word out of your mouth. The people of this household are annoyingly obsessed with talent.”

I let out a scoff.

‘Talent is certainly important.’

But the spirit of a warrior matters far more than talent. No matter how formidable the martial techniques one masters, no matter how exceptional one’s gifts—if the person themselves is weak, it all becomes meaningless.

“Without talent, my words probably sound like noise to you. But every time I hear someone speak of talent, I find myself delighted.”

The corners of Martha’s mouth curved upward like leaves unfurling.

“So I’ll show you clearly. What true talent really is!”

The brown aura blooming from her body deepened. It was as though shards of finely honed stone were cascading down upon me.

“I’ll show you the opposite.”

That there exists something more important than talent.

Twilight gleamed in my eyes, and upon the blade’s cold steel, a single crimson flame blossomed.

Myriad Flame Technique, First Flame.
The first and singular flame.

The legend of Zigheart, transcending a thousand years, ignited at the tip of my blade.

—————

This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

—————