The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 38

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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 38

A new year had dawned.

At fourteen years old, my life could be summarized in a single word: training. I continued the existence of a training devotee—arriving first at the Training Ground and departing last.

Though Lunan’s eyes remained blind, the sharpness of his swordsmanship and the chilling depth of his water-attribute aura had become incomparably profound.

Burren, who had grown tremendously in spirit, had firmly grasped the hearts of many trainees and wielded his blade day and night with grim determination to reclaim his position as top trainee.

Martha forsook even rest to avenge her first defeat, wielding her blade and cultivating her aura relentlessly.
Yet her already crude temperament had grown more violent, and now no one dared approach her.

But there was one exception. Before me, she was different.
Martha, who wouldn’t even listen properly to the instructors, fell silent and obeyed my every word—so much so that she resembled a devoted servant.

The other trainees thought this attitude stemmed from our wager and wouldn’t last more than a few days. They were wrong.

Even as the new year began, Martha faithfully followed my commands.

Everyone was astonished.
No one had expected Martha—crude-mouthed and foul-tempered—to honor her promise to me.

Thus I had subdued even the last obstacle, earning the recognition of all trainees in the 5th Training Ground.

*

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*

“Gather.”

At my call, trainees from across the Training Ground turned to look at me simultaneously, ceasing their warm-ups.

“Tch.”
“Yeah.”

Burren clicked his tongue slightly and stood in front of me, while Lunan came scurrying over like a puppy greeting his master.

“….”

Martha’s eyes flashed with a sharp glint, but without a word, she took her place beside the two of them.

With Lunan and Burren—the most influential trainees in the Training Ground—along with Martha moving at my command, the other trainees naturally had no choice but to follow suit.

“Why did you call everyone together?”

Burren turned his head to look at the empty Platform.

“This morning is supposed to be individual training.”
“No. Today is regular training.”
“I haven’t heard anything about that.”
“The senior instructor said he forgot to mention it.”

I exhaled a sigh. Rimer had suddenly shown up last evening and instructed me to gather all the trainees so they wouldn’t scatter this morning.

“That man really is….”

Burren gritted his teeth. He still seemed displeased with Rimer.

“Regardless. Since today is regular training, stay here and wait. Just warm up lightly.”
“Ugh.”
“Did you eat crow meat? What do you keep forgetting about?”
“Probably from drinking and carousing. I heard you were at a tavern yesterday.”
“It’s been days now. Let’s just get ready.”

The trainees grumbled quietly but followed my instructions, warming up their bodies lightly in the center of the Training Ground.

Shortly after, about five minutes into the training time, the Training Ground doors creaked open and the instructors entered.

“Yaaawn.”

Rimer, standing at the very back, let out a yawn so wide his hand couldn’t cover it as he climbed onto the Platform.

“You’re late, instructor.”

Burren raised his hand and shouted.

“Well, today is supposed to be free training, but our instructor was delayed preparing something for you all, so it’s not really being late.”
“That has nothing to do with—”
“Since we’re behind schedule, let’s start training right away!”

Rimer ignored Burren’s words and waved his hand dismissively.

I could hear Burren grinding his teeth from behind. Even as time passed, the dynamic between those two never changed.

“The reason I’ve taken your personal training time today is to teach you all the most important thing for a swordsman.”
“The most important thing for a swordsman?”
“What could that be?”
“A new sword technique?”
“A secret sword art?”
“A cultivation method?”

The trainees’ eyes sparkled like starlight, brimming with anticipation.

Rimer hummed thoughtfully.

He savored that gleam in their eyes for a long moment before slowly opening his mouth once the children’s voices had quieted.

“It’s footwork.”
“Huh?”
“Footwork?”
“Why would that be the most important thing for a swordsman…?”
“Sigh, I knew this would happen.”

At the mention of footwork, the trainees shuffled their feet with disappointed expressions.

‘As I thought, it was footwork.’

But I nodded calmly in acknowledgment.

Footwork was the art of walking—a systematic method of movement.
It was a structured discipline designed to enable more aggressive, more defensive, or faster movement when executing sword techniques or martial arts.

‘I thought the time had come.’

I had grown accustomed to martial arts and swordplay, developed a decent aura, and believed it was time to learn footwork.

“Before coming here, quite a few trainees had mastered intermediate-level swordplay, but hardly any had properly learned footwork.”
“Hmm….”
“That’s certainly true.”

The trainees couldn’t refute and nodded slowly. Burren, Lunan, and Martha also fell silent.

“Your goal is to become swordsmen, so swordplay is indeed important. But!”

Rimer grinned and leaped down from the platform. His body vanished as if a candle had been snuffed out.

“What makes that swordplay sharper and faster, and what saves your life in the future, is footwork. In other words, your footwork.”

His voice came from behind me. When I turned my head, Rimer, who had disappeared from the front, was standing at the very back with his hands clasped behind him.

“Gasp!”
“Huh, when did….”
“What?”

The trainees’ jaws dropped. At the sight of Rimer appearing from behind without a sound, their tongues involuntarily flicked out.

“You’ve all realized that there’s a difference between practicing alone and swinging your sword against an opponent during sparring.”
“That’s….”
“Right. Your body didn’t move properly.”
“Your sword didn’t follow its intended trajectory either.”

The trainees nodded. They had all come to understand through sparring that real combat and training were different.

“To display your full strength in real combat, you must train your footwork even more than your swordplay. I believe the most important martial art in one-on-one sparring is not swordplay or aura, but footwork. The family head agreed with that opinion.”
“The, the family head?”
“Gasp!”
“If he said that….”

The trainees’ jaws dropped. The weight of Rimer’s words carried far more significance now that Glen Zigheart, whom they most respected, had said footwork was important.

“Footwork….”

Burren straightened his spine.

‘Yes. If only I had possessed proper footwork back then….’

My strengths lay in keenness, precision, and speed. Had I employed genuine footwork techniques rather than basic stepping during my match with Raon, I wouldn’t have suffered such a crushing defeat.

“Indeed….”

At the low, rumbling tone, Burren turned his head to the side.

Martha’s eyes gleamed with intensity, her fists clenched. She harbored the same thoughts as well.

‘We’re alike.’

I’d believed the matter had grown quiet, but I was mistaken. Martha burned with the desire to defeat Raon—not on the surface, but deep within her chest.

“Footwork begins with the Garam Technique, which embodies the flow of a river.”

Rimer bounded lightly across the gravel bank as if treading along a riverbed, his body springing effortlessly onto the Platform.

“Hmm….”

He assumed a stance as though about to demonstrate the technique, then muttered that it was tedious before sprawling out lazily.

“Experienced instructor, step forward.”

Rimer clapped his hands, and the instructor behind him came forward to begin demonstrating the Garam Technique’s stance.

Crack.

Burren’s fists clenched. I vowed to master the footwork thoroughly and one day humble that lazy instructor’s arrogance, committing every detail of the Garam Technique’s stance to memory.

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The Garam Technique consisted of only twelve forms, and the stances were simple enough that the demonstration didn’t require much time.

‘Truly, it is nothing but the fundamentals.’

Because Raon was rotating the Ring of Fire, I could grasp the form, posture, and flow of the Garam Footwork at a glance.

Though it was a footwork I’d never seen before, it adhered faithfully to fundamental stances and possessed a smooth flow that could be seamlessly integrated into any technique.

“The instructors will circulate and correct your postures, so for now, demonstrate the footwork as you’ve observed and felt it.”
“Yes!”

The trainees spread out across the Training Ground and began executing the Garam Footwork.

But I remained motionless.

With my eyes closed, I spun the Ring of Fire while replaying the Garam Footwork the instructor had demonstrated in my mind.

‘Six parts defense, four parts offense.’

True to its nature as a fundamental footwork, the Garam Footwork balanced attack and defense in similar proportions. Defense held a slight edge, but the difference was negligible.

‘Its strength lies in chaining movements.’

The defining characteristic of the Garam Footwork was how it flowed as smoothly as a river. Rather than rigid, interlocking precision, the continuous stream of movement—even if slightly loose—was paramount.

“Hah….”

I exhaled a measured breath and opened my eyes. Through my widened vision, every aspect of the Garam Footwork was laid bare before me.

Click.

I extended my right foot first.
Savoring the sensation of pressing down on the well-packed Training Ground floor, I brought my left foot to follow.

Both feet crossed smoothly as the first form, Flowing Harmony, unfolded.

Whoosh!

Lightly grazing the ground, I rotated my body to the right. Evading the enemy’s strike, the second form, Blade Current, sang through the sand of the Training Ground.

A execution far more refined than the posture the instructor had demonstrated.

Zing!

Raon savored the exhilarating sensation flowing across his shoulders and broke into a smile. His feet moved with the fluid grace of the Garam Steps as if he had known them since birth, recreating their elegant flow with perfect precision.

*

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*

“Haaaaah!”

Rimer yawned widely, his mouth stretching open as he blinked his eyes.

“I’m exhausted.”

After spending several days searching for and refining footwork techniques suitable for the trainees, I hadn’t slept, and my entire body felt heavy with fatigue.

‘I suppose I really am getting old.’

I chuckled softly and gazed down from the Platform.

Raon stood in the center with his eyes closed, remaining perfectly still. He appeared to be visualizing the instructor’s footwork in his mind.

‘It’s a good approach, certainly….’

Visualizing martial techniques within one’s mental landscape is undoubtedly an excellent training method. However, that should only be attempted once one has developed sufficient skill.

Since he had just learned the footwork, now was the time to move his body, not to paint pictures in his mind.

‘I’ll have to tell him later not to get ahead of himself with that kind of showiness.’

Rimer muttered to himself that he’d found something to tease about, then glanced toward Burren.

‘He’s doing quite well.’

Burren had apparently learned footwork techniques before, as he replicated the form of the Garam Steps almost perfectly. While there was no true essence behind it, his posture would likely be perfected before long.

‘And the same goes for her.’

Martha extended her feet lightly and rotated her body with the grace of someone who had practiced footwork for a considerable time. Her posture was even superior to Burren’s.

“Ha.”

Rimer chuckled as he observed Burren and Martha’s footwork.

‘They’re thinking about Raon.’

Even as they learned the footwork, the two of them were recalling their sparring match against Raon.

It seemed my earlier statement about footwork being the most crucial element in one-on-one combat had struck home.

‘And….’

I observed Lunan practicing the Garam footwork on the right side. Her movements differed from the other two.

Rather than positioning herself as an opponent, her movements seemed supportive. It was painfully obvious who Lunan wanted to help.

Rimer continued observing all the trainees, committing their strengths and weaknesses to memory for later feedback.

‘This is fun.’

Perhaps because they were still young and pure-hearted, I could discern each trainee’s thoughts simply by watching them train.

“Ahhh.”

Rimer rose with a long stretch, like a bear awakening from hibernation.

In a flash.

Just as I was about to offer the observations I’d noted, Raon—who had been standing motionless like a statue—opened his eyes wide and pulled his foot back.

‘Ah….’

Those vivid crimson eyes and the crane-like extension of his leg sent a chill racing down my spine.

Raon’s foot advanced slowly. The first flowing movement of the Garam footwork flowed across the Training Ground floor like the current of a river.

Boom!

He assumed the second stance. As his body unfolded in a blazing advance, it seemed as though a sharp blade gleamed within his form.

“Hah!”

Rimer let out a hollow laugh.

‘That monster….’

Raon’s footwork technique was closer to perfection than the instructor who had personally taught him the stepping method.

After that, Raon unfolded the twelve forms of the Garam footwork technique like flowing water. His posture was nearly flawless, without a single mistake or shortcoming.

“Uh….”
“What, what is this.”

The trainees and even the instructor all froze in place, staring blankly at Raon’s footwork.

“He learned the footwork through visualization alone?”

Rimer’s pupils trembled. A chill ran through his entire body.

‘Where does that monster’s potential even end….’

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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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