The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 42

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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 42

“Alright, everyone pay attention!”

Rimer climbed onto the platform and clapped his hands. All the trainees absorbed in their practice lifted their heads.

“Do you see them?”

He pointed his finger at the knights of the Owen Kingdom standing on the right side of the Training Ground.

“Our guests from the Owen Kingdom have requested a sparring match with us.”

“A, a sparring match?”

“Just like that?”

The trainees stood slack-jawed, caught off guard by the unexpected word “sparring.”

“Just like that? What do you mean ‘just like that’? I’ve always told you—a swordsman must be ready to draw his blade the moment he wakes from sleep.”

Rimer clicked his tongue and muttered that they still had much to learn.

“But still…”

“They’re from the Owen Kingdom, after all…”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we had a little time to prepare before fighting?”

Even with Rimer’s reassurance, the trainees’ anxious expressions remained unchanged.

However, there was one trainee whose thoughts diverged entirely.

Burren Zigheart and Martha Zigheart swept their gazes across the Owen Kingdom’s training knights one by one, their eyes gleaming like predators stalking prey.

Lunan Slion paid no mind to the chatter ahead and continued training without interruption.

“Heh heh!”

Rimer’s gaze, which had been savoring the trainees’ bewilderment, turned toward Raon. His eyes seemed to ask: what about you?

“Hmm….”

I turned my head swiftly to observe the Owen Kingdom’s training knights.

‘A sparring match, then….’

Knights aside, there was no one among these training knights who had reached my level.

However, the prince at the center of their formation would make a decent opponent for practicing the harmony between the Garam Footwork and Tempered Swordsmanship.

As I slowly nodded, a thick smile bloomed across Rimer’s lips.

“Since everyone agrees, we can begin. There are twenty of them. And….”

Rimer lowered his voice so only the trainees could hear.

“I’ve wagered my entire month’s salary on this. You absolutely must win. If you lose, I’m truly finished.”

“Huh?”

“What? That… what do you mean…?”

“Prepare for the sparring match!”

The trainees’ jaws dropped. They wanted to protest, but Rimer had already turned away and begun issuing orders to the instructors.

“Yes, sir!”

The instructors, as if they had known beforehand, began dispersing the trainees and setting up platforms and equipment in the center of the Training Ground for the sparring match.

“Ha.”

Raon let out a quiet chuckle watching the scene unfold.

‘So that’s what this was about.’

All of Rimer’s unusual behavior over the past few days had been in preparation for this sparring match.

He must have begun preparing for this match the moment he heard that the delegation from the Owen Kingdom was coming.

‘That’s impressive.’

Even among children who haven’t yet earned the qualifications of a swordmaster or knight, matches between the Six Emperors don’t happen easily.

For Rimer to conduct the match so smoothly, like water flowing downstream, he was clearly no ordinary person.

“Gather around.”

I turned and called everyone together.

“Yeah.”

Lunan Slion, who had paid no attention to anyone’s words until now, stopped his sword and approached first.

“Tsk.”

“….”

Burren Zigheart and Martha Zigheart. The other trainees also took their places beside Lunan Slion. All the trainees of the 5th Training Ground gathered in a circle around me.

“As you’ve heard, the match roster is already decided. We need to select twenty people, so those willing to participate, raise your hands.”

“I’m definitely going.”

“Same here. I’ll go even if I have to burn everything down.”

Burren Zigheart and Martha Zigheart raised their hands simultaneously.

“Are you going too, Raon?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll do it too.”

Lunan Slion nodded and raised her hand. About ten trainees followed suit, lifting their hands as well.

“….”

“Hmm….”

However, the other trainees hesitated to raise their hands hastily, watching the atmosphere carefully.

‘Are they afraid?’

The training knights of the Owen Kingdom wore armor even without receiving formal titles.

Their bodies and minds seemed to have stiffened under the overwhelming pressure of the training knights who stood confidently despite lacking complete faith in their own abilities.

“Tsk.”

Troublesome as it was, being first among the trainees meant it was also my role to motivate them.

“Do they look confident to you?”

Raon pointed to the Owen Kingdom training knights preparing for sparring.

“Well, that’s not quite it.”

“They look dangerous too.”

The trainees nodded cautiously, exchanging glances with one another.

“Look closely at the hands of the training knights.”

“Huh?”

The trainees’ eyes followed Raon’s gesture toward the hands of the training knights.

“Hmm?”

“They seem… slightly trembling?”

“Not ‘seem’—they’re actually trembling.”

“The others are the same way.”

The trainees’ eyes widened as they observed the trembling hands of the other training knights.

“Yes, they wear impressive armor, but they are merely trainees who cannot hide their trembling and anxiety before a match.”

“Ah…”

“In other words, they are children of similar age with similar thoughts as you.”

I turned my body and gazed at the trainees.

“There is no need to fear. You have trained to never fall behind the Six Emperors or the Owen Kingdom. If you fight as you have learned, you will not suffer a shameful defeat.”

“Yes!”

“R-right, no one has trained as much as we have.”

“The blood and sweat shed through training yield to no one.”

At my solemn acknowledgment, vitality and fighting spirit ignited in the trainees’ eyes.

“I ask again. Raise your hand if you wish to participate in the sparring matches.”

With a sharp gust of wind, every trainee’s hand shot upward.

I nodded and selected twenty trainees, including Burren Zigheart, Lunan Slion, and Martha Zigheart.

Both those selected and those left behind gazed upon the Owen Kingdom with an entirely transformed resolve.

‘How troublesome.’

Looking after these young ones proved far more bothersome than I had anticipated.

Yet having shared time and space with the trainees, I found myself developing a certain fondness for them. It was not entirely unpleasant.

“Now then, I shall determine the sparring order. First will be Martha. You can manage that, yes?”

“I’ll crush them.”

Martha nodded emphatically. The vanguard position could elevate the trainees’ morale, and Martha, the second strongest in the 5th Training Ground, was the natural choice.

“After that….”

I determined the sparring order for each trainee one by one. Lunan Slion would go eighteenth, Burren Zigheart nineteenth, and I would take the final position.

“Once you’re ready, please gather in the center.”

“Let’s go.”

I walked toward the center of the Training Ground, listening to Rimer’s irritating voice.

*

*

*

Martha tilted her jaw as she watched the training knight ascend the Sparring Arena. His polished silver armor and massive frame evoked the image of a true knight.

Yet she felt no fear. Compared to that damned bastard who had crushed her with sheer force, he seemed scarcely imposing at all.

“Tars.”

The burly training knight placed his hand on his sword hilt and bowed his head slightly.

“Martha Zigheart.”

Martha announced her name and spread her feet to shoulder-width apart.

“An underdeveloped body honed to terrifying refinement. I look forward to a worthy match.”

Tars, having revealed his name, assessed Martha’s aura without underestimating her despite her delicate features and slight frame. He had not stepped forward as the vanguard among the training knights for nothing.

“A good match? You’re going to get beaten anyway, so stop posturing and come at me.”

Martha let out a derisive snort and flicked her fingers.

“Hmm.”

Tars exhaled sharply through his nose and drew his sword. A greatsword, thicker than any ordinary knight’s blade, revealed itself.

“Your tongue is sharper than your appearance suggests. I hope your swordsmanship matches it.”

“Stop your yapping. If you won’t come, I will!”

Martha stamped the ground and drew her blade in the same motion. The pristine white steel cleaved through the shimmering heat.

“Fool!”

Tars’s eyes gleamed with cold intensity as he brought the greatsword down in a straight arc. A violent wind pressure erupted from the dull blade.

Whoosh!

The moment the heavy wind sought to crush Martha’s body, her eyes flashed with brilliance.

Boom!

Martha stepped into True Angle and raised her blade to meet his. Like a salmon leaping upstream, she carved through the wind pressure and clashed against the greatsword.

Clang!

A deafening crash erupted as if metal itself were shattering, and Tars’s greatsword flew backward, embedding itself in the ground.

“Gasp!”

Tars recoiled in shock, but Martha seized the opening without hesitation. She closed in immediately and struck his abdomen with the flat of her blade.

“Ugh!”

Tars spewed foam from his mouth as he tumbled backward.

“How pathetic—a brute who relies on strength, yet fails to channel everything into a single strike.”

Martha sheathed her sword with a cold smile and turned away.

“Martha wins!”

Rimer raised Martha’s hand with a satisfied grin.

“Hmm…”

I watched Martha’s retreating figure, tapping my fingers thoughtfully against my chin.

‘She’s changed, yet she hasn’t.’

I had expected Martha to infuse her swordplay with finesse after her defeat at my hands, but she hadn’t.

Rather than adding softness, she amplified her power by increasing her strength and speed. It was disarmingly simple.

‘An unbreakable will.’

Martha’s uncompromising nature would surely lead her to greater heights.

‘This is rather entertaining.’

-Entertaining? You find amusement in watching young ants squabble? I find it nothing but tedious.

‘Ants aren’t always young, after all.’

-How pathetic. When I summoned young demons in the Demon Realm for sparring matches, I never witnessed such incompetence… Gack!

I touched the flower bracelet to silence Wrath, then waited for the next match to begin.

‘I find it entertaining. Be quiet.’

*

*

*

Though Martha had made an impressive start, the Owen Kingdom’s training knights proved formidable opponents.

Whether they had sent only their elite or not, the trainees of the 5th Training Ground engaged in close contests, trading victories and defeats.

After seventeen matches, the 5th Training Ground’s trainees had achieved a record of eight wins and nine losses, and now it was Lunan Slion’s turn for the eighteenth match.

“Your turn, Lunan Slion.”

“Got it.”

Lunan Slion nodded and ascended to the Sparring Arena.

On the Sparring Arena stood a female knight of similar height to Lunan Slion, her hand resting on her hip.

“Edelia.”

“Lunan Slion.”

Lunan Slion and Edelia exchanged formal courtesies befitting a knight and swordmaster, facing each other.

“….”

Lunan Slion didn’t even draw her blade, regarding Edelia with that same vacant gaze as always.

“That dull look in her eyes… I don’t like it one bit.”

Edelia wrinkled her nose and charged toward Lunan Slion. Crimson flames erupted along the edge of her blade, held upright like a spear.

Whoosh!

A flame aura. It was a technique that explained why Edelia appeared despite her small frame—a master of the later stages.

“I dislike fire.”

Lunan Slion drew her sword with barely a perceptible movement of her lips.

Whoosh!

A frost far whiter than the silver blade swept across the empty space.

Clang!

The flaming sword and the frost-laden sword collided, sending up a burst of pristine white vapor.

Lunan Slion stepped into the Garam Footwork, concealing her body between the frost and the mist.

“I’ll simply burn away this frost!”

Edelia swung the flames dancing atop her blade like a torch, erasing both the frost and the mist in one motion.

“There!”

She caught the faint shimmer within the frost and thrust her blade forward.

“What?”

Edelia’s eyes widened. Nothing caught on the tip of her sword, and the empty space she had pierced remained vacant.

“Ugh!”

She swallowed dryly at the chill she felt near her neck and turned her head.

The blade sang as it was sheathed.

Lunan Slion stood with a piercing gaze, her sword pressed against Edelia’s throat.

“…I lost.”

Edelia bit her lip and lowered her sword.

Lunan Slion withdrew her blade from Edelia’s neck and sheathed it.

“That was a good fight…?”

Edelia extended her hand, but Lunan Slion didn’t even glance back and descended to stand before Raon.

“Did you see?”

“Your footwork has become familiar. You did well.”

“Mm.”

Lunan Slion nodded and collapsed beside Raon with a heavy sigh.

Raon felt the cold intensity radiating from Lunan Slion and smiled faintly.

‘Using my footwork in actual combat.’

The footwork Lunan had used this time was the concealment form of the Garam Footwork that she had practiced alone.

I had only offered slight advice, yet Lunan had created an entirely different applied footwork from it.

Watching her follow along so well despite my incomplete instruction filled me with an unexpected sense of pride.

“Both sides are at nine wins and nine losses. This is turning out to be quite entertaining. Let’s begin the nineteenth match.”

Rimer, clearly intrigued, grinned widely as he called for Burren and the training knight.

“Hmm….”

I smacked my lips thoughtfully.

‘Quite formidable.’

The training knight facing Burren possessed a stable stance and keen, piercing eyes. Excluding the Third Prince, he was the strongest training knight I had encountered thus far.

Their martial prowess was evenly matched—the kind of contest where a single moment of carelessness would determine the outcome. It seemed they had deployed what could only be called their secret weapon among the training knights.

“I am Training Knight Setun Kazel.”

“I am trainee Burren Zigheart.”

The training knight and Burren exchanged respectful greetings before placing their hands on their sword hilts.

“The nineteenth match begins!”

Before Rimer could finish speaking, two figures vanished simultaneously from the Sparring Arena.

Crash!

Burren Zigheart and Setun Kazel, propelling themselves forward with their footwork, clashed blades at the center.

‘They know it.’

Both understood the truth—their strength was evenly matched, and a single moment of carelessness would decide everything.

Clang! Clang!

Burren’s blade was swift and precise, while Setun’s was heavy and devastating.

Both swordsmen unleashed their respective advantages to their fullest, driving their blades down to overwhelm their opponent.

A true deadlock. Not only the trainees but even the seasoned swordsmen found themselves captivated by the duel.

Splash!

Blood sprayed from Burren’s shoulder, and Setun’s breastplate cracked sharply.

The swordsman and knight refused to release their blades, even as blood flowed and flesh was torn.

They thrust their blades toward each other’s weaknesses as though locked in a mortal struggle.

Crack!

Burren Zigheart was driven backward by Setun Kazel’s weighty blade strike, his teeth gritting. He raised his sword and drew his aura to its maximum capacity.

He inhaled sharply.

Setun Kazel sensed Burren Zigheart’s surge of power and mobilized all the aura from his core.

“Haaah!”

Burren Zigheart propelled himself forward on a current of wind, while Setun Kazel drove his blade downward with both feet anchored firmly to the ground.

Boom!

Gray smoke erupted from the Sparring Arena with a sound like the earth itself was being crushed.

The crackle of splitting stone echoed out, and both fighters’ movements ceased.

Whoosh!

Rimer hummed softly as he extended his hand. A verdant wind swept through, dispersing the smoke that hung over the Sparring Arena.

Burren Zigheart and Setun Kazel stood frozen at a distance where they could touch fists, their blades split in half and embedded in the ground.

“Huh?”

“If it ends like that….”

“It’s a draw, isn’t it?”

The trainees were right—the two combatants were in no condition to continue. They had exhausted every ounce of stamina and aura, their limbs trembling uncontrollably.

“The nineteenth match is a draw!”

At Rimer’s declaration, Burren Zigheart forced himself upright and descended from the Sparring Arena.

“Damn it….”

He clenched his teeth, his expression darkening with frustration.

“You fought well. That training knight was the strongest Owen Kingdom had to offer.”

“What good is that? If I stepped into this arena bearing the Zigheart name, I should have won unconditionally!”

Burren Zigheart struck the ground with his clenched fist. Lacking strength, his knuckles split open.

“Hmm.”

I observed Setun, who had fought against Burren Zigheart. His usually composed expression was creased like tree bark—he too was frustrated.

‘Honor….’

Whether in my past life or this one, I’ve been too consumed with survival to truly understand what honor means.

“Now then, let us begin the final match to determine victory!”

I rose to my feet at the sound of Rimer’s cheerful voice.

“Don’t worry.”

I turned to look at Burren Zigheart, whose lips were pressed thin.

“I’ll win.”

“….”

Burren Zigheart said nothing. It was his way of expressing trust.

I turned and climbed into the Sparring Arena. Honor meant nothing to me, but since everyone had united their hearts, I would deliver victory. No—I wanted to win.

“Are you from the direct line of Zigheart?”

The Third Prince, who had been waiting in the Sparring Arena, tapped his sword and tilted his head.

“No, sir. I’m from the Branch Family.”

“Tsk, fighting against discarded trash.”

At the mention of the Branch Family, the Third Prince’s brow furrowed. He still had not recognized my true strength.

“I have a proposal.”

The Third Prince turned his head toward Rimer without even glancing at me.

“What sort of proposal do you have in mind?”

“Those two over there.”

He gestured toward Lunan Slion and Martha Zigheart, who were watching the Sparring Arena.

“It doesn’t seem like they’re using their full strength. If I defeat Iza, how about we have a rematch?”

“Hmm….”

Rimer scratched his trembling jaw. From his expression, it was clear he was suppressing a laugh that threatened to escape.

“Very well. If you win, that is.”

“Then have them warm up. This will be over quickly.”

The Third Prince turned away with a satisfied smile.

“It really will end fast.”

A cold glint flickered across my eyes.

I will win.

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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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