The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 420

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

Chapter 420

“You tell us to rest, and now suddenly you want to spar!”

Martha frowned as she watched Raon and Mustan descend toward the Snowy Plain.

“And why is he fighting that shameless bastard anyway?”

She clicked her tongue, muttering that it was a pointless affair.

“That old man must have done something.”

Burren narrowed his eyes as he glanced toward Mustan.

“Old man? Shouldn’t it be old child instead?”
“He’s older than us, but he acts like a brat.”
“Right, he’s got that whiny little kid vibe.”

Martha laughed, finding his behavior too childish to watch.

“Ugh.”

Lunan showed no interest in the match, leaning against the Castle Wall with his lips pouted.

“No Ice Cream Shop….”
“You fool! It’s winter all year here, and this is a war zone—why would they sell ice cream!”
“Martha the demon woman.”

Though the jab had nothing to do with the current situation, a vein bulged on Martha’s forehead.

“You bastard!”
“Martha weak. Always crying and collapsing.”
“Fine! If you want to die, I’ll kill you!”

Martha leaped like a frog and charged at Lunan.

“Ooh!”
“The first and second squad leaders are fighting!”
“This is going to be fun too!”

The Gwangpung Unit grinned widely and pumped their fists as they watched Lunan and Martha begin their test of strength.
Even as Raon and Mustan’s duel was about to commence, not a trace of anxiety crossed their faces. They had absolute faith in their unit leader.

Raon stood upon the Snowy Plain, buoyed by the Gwangpung Unit’s unconditional trust.
Mustan approached from the opposite side, his eyes blazing with murderous intent.

‘Anyone watching would think I’m the one at fault here.’

He had picked the fight first, yet now he glared at me with those eyes—it was absurd. I knew he was jealous, but I hadn’t realized he was this unhinged.

‘I was willing to let most things slide, but this time he’s crossed the line.’

I had intended to overlook his usual provocations out of respect for all that Sword Ghost had given me, but I couldn’t remain silent after hearing him mock Rimer.

“You’re right. Our unit leader is an idiot.”

Raon placed his hand on the hilt of the Heavenly Sword, a faint smile playing at his lips.

“But only the Gwangpung Unit has the right to say that. We can criticize him all we want. You have no right to speak such words.”

From his gentle smile emanated a chilling, creeping coldness.

“I’ll give you the tongue-lashing that Lectar failed to deliver.”
“I told you not to mention my master’s name!”

Mustan let out a primal scream and drew his blade. The sword pointed toward Raon radiated a vicious, oppressive aura.

“Fine. We won’t need any warm-up then.”

As Raon twisted his lips and unsheathed the Heavenly Sword, Wrath burst forth from the bracelet.

-That one’s a bit dangerous.

Wrath scanned Mustan and clicked his tongue briefly.

‘What’s dangerous about it?’
-The jealousy clinging to that bastard has grown quite potent.
‘Potent?’
-Emotions like rage, sloth, and jealousy are connected to the primordial forces of both humans and demons. That one’s emotional intensity is on the verge of touching that primordial realm.

Wrath shook his head, muttering that Mustan’s mind must have been defective from the start.

‘Doesn’t matter.’

Raon pointed the Heavenly Sword at Mustan and curled his lips into a smile.

‘A beating fixes things.’
-What?
‘There’s a saying: if things don’t go as planned, consider whether you’ve administered enough punishment.’
-Is there really such a saying in the world?

As Wrath tilted his head in bewilderment, Mustan moved first.

Boom!

Mustan stamped the ground with fierce force, uttering no battle cry. Swift footwork. In an instant, he surged forward and raised his blade.

‘Fast. But…’

Just fast.

Mustan had focused so much on speed that he couldn’t channel power into his swordplay.

Raon lifted the Heavenly Sword to meet Mustan’s blade descending like lightning. No need to swing.
Simply holding it in place with the heavy sword’s incantation formed a thick wall.

Clang!

Mustan’s blade couldn’t advance, stopped before the Heavenly Sword as if it had struck an immovable force.

“Hmph!”

Anticipating the block, he withdrew his blade and twisted his waist, launching an upward strike from below. Blue aura rippled across the blade’s edge, creating a massive wave.

‘Is this the swordsmanship he originally mastered?’

Seeing the intense light extending outward, it appeared to be the Crimson Blade Technique, one of the Sword Ghost’s advanced sword arts.
Within the blade of light that he wielded lay the essence of the Predictive Blade, the Forceful Blade, the Swift Blade, and the Severing Blade.

Boom!

Raon stepped his left foot into the true angle stance while chanting the incantation of the Radiant Blade Technique.
I channeled the explosive muscle force rising from my quadriceps and the heat of Manhwagong rushing through my mana circuits into the Celestial Blade.

Crash!

The Celestial Blade, imbued with weighty power, struck down Mustan’s sword in a single blow. His wrist tilted like a sailboat caught by a wave.

Raon narrowed his eyes as he watched Mustan’s jaw drop open.

‘This is weaker than I expected?’

Or perhaps I’ve grown stronger.

Having reached the Master-tier pinnacle and receiving guidance from the Sword Ghost to advance my sword art mastery, the gap between now and before seemed to have widened into a completely different league.

“I-Impossible!”

Mustan gritted his teeth and forced strength into his trembling wrist. After forcibly stopping the tremor, he unleashed a sword strike laden with thick, robust energy.

‘This time I’ll break that technique.’

I stepped closer to Mustan and raised Glacial. I released the frost energy blooming at my fingertips, infused with wind.

Crash!

The subtle essence of the Severing Blade contained within the Snowy Wind Blade Technique scattered Mustan’s sword energy and created a massive shockwave.

“Ugh!”

As Mustan watched his sword fly away, I struck his abdomen with my left fist.

Boom!

With a thunderous boom like a drum bursting, Mustan was sent flying roughly, rolling across the ground.

‘His reflexes are sharp.’

True to his nature as the Sword Ghost’s Disciple, Mustan created an aura barrier before his abdomen the moment the fist connected, defending himself.

“Ugh!”

The impact to his stomach was severe, and though Mustan’s shoulders trembled, he gritted his teeth without showing any outward sign of pain.

“H-how…?”
“What do you mean how? You’re just weak.”

I brushed off my left fist lightly and approached Mustan.

“Stop whining and get up. We haven’t even started yet.”

I pushed off with my right foot. The Flowing Earth Step carried me forward with grace. The ground caved in as Mustan’s eyes widened in alarm.

Clang!

I laid the Radiant Fang’s secret technique upon the rough falling blade of the Heavenly Sword. The sharpened fangs of a beast revealed their ferocious killing intent.

“Urgh!”

Mustan hastily retreated backward, extending his sword strike. Even in his desperation, his blade carried proper force.

But only proper force for his level.

I wrapped the essence of Swift Sword around the Radiant Fang. The crimson blade, now accelerated, pushed Mustan’s sword back ferociously.

Boom!

It was a clash of pure strength, but the outcome revealed itself far too easily.

Crack!

Mustan’s sword strike shattered and bounced away as if struck against a wall, while the Heavenly Sword advanced without obstruction.

Cough, cough, cough!

Raon tilted the Heavenly Sword’s blade at the last moment when it was about to sever Mustan’s neck, instead slashing across his shoulder.

Crash!

Mustan flew like a rubber ball and crashed into the ground. A massive crater formed where he landed, and the snow covering the earth scattered into the air.

Crack!

I grabbed Mustan’s head, which was still reeling from the impact, and yanked him up like a weed.

“Ugh….”
“That’s not the end, is it?”

When Raon threw Mustan like a stone, he staggered to his feet.

“Of, of course not!”

Mustan lowered his stance and drew his aura to its maximum capacity.

Rumble, rumble, rumble!

The Snowy Plain melted under the surging waves of his fierce energy, and the flow of the atmosphere began to twist.

‘His aura alone is impressive.’

True to his status as the Sword Ghost’s Disciple, he had consumed elixirs like water, and I could feel his tremendous power.

“But I never said I’d wait for you to gather your strength.”

I stepped into the Heavenly Steps and pierced through Mustan’s space in a single breath.

“You cowardly bastard!”
“Cry foul in real combat and you’ll lose your head.”

I twisted my upper body to deflect Mustan’s descending sword strike, then struck his forehead with the flat of the Heavenly Sword’s blade.

“Gah!”

Mustan collapsed backward like a puppet with its strings cut. The impact was severe, and bright red blood sprayed from his mouth.

Sizzle.

I approached the fallen Mustan. With each step, the ground caved beneath my feet, the earth taking on the appearance of torn flesh and exposed sinew.

“Words spoken from the mouth cannot be gathered back up.”

I looked down at Mustan and clenched my fist.

“For every word you’ve uttered, you’ll take exactly one hundred strikes.”
“Why, why one hundred….”
“Because I say so.”

Before he could protest further, I brought my fist—still gripping the sword—down hard across his face.

Crack!

I raised my index finger as I looked at Mustan, now driven into the ground.

“That’s one.”
“Ugh!”

Mustan trembled violently, his hands wrapped around his face.

“But, I’ve already taken four strikes….”
“I’m not good at arithmetic.”

I lifted my chin, my eyes gleaming with cold intensity.

“If you don’t want to die, count them as you take each one.”

*

*

*

Milend and the Sword Ghost clinked their whiskey glasses together as they gazed out the window.

“It appears two children are clashing.”

Milend moistened his lips with whiskey and smiled faintly.

“Sigh….”

Sword Ghost set down his glass and exhaled a low sigh.

“I anticipated this, but now that it’s happened, the taste has turned bitter.”
“Raising a disciple has never been an easy task. I understand your sentiment.”

Milend nodded, recounting the various hardships he had endured while raising Terian, his successor and son.

“Difficult, you say?”

Rimer tilted his head while tearing into a whole roasted chicken that had been served as an appetizer.

“My Raon handles things just fine on his own. He grows stronger by himself, accomplishes feats on his own. Ha ha ha!”

He laughed heartily, suggesting that disciples simply grew well on their own.

“I, I….”

Milend’s hand trembled as he held his glass, indignant, yet he could not refute the claim.
After all, Raon had moved and grown independently even here.

“How heaven could entrust someone like that ruffian with a prodigy like Raon is beyond comprehension. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He furrowed his brow as he looked at Sword Ghost, yet strangely, the latter wore a faint smile of contentment.

“Lectar?”
“Ah, my apologies.”

Sword Ghost slowly shook his head.

“Raon is certainly a remarkable child, but I cherish my own disciple most.”

He said that while Mustan was narrow-minded, he was not a bad person.

“But if they fought, who would win?”

Rimer munched on a yellow apple while doing a little shoulder dance. His eyes gleamed with the cunning of someone asking a question they already knew the answer to.

“Asking when you already know? Unlike your disciple, you have quite the nasty personality. Obviously Raon.”

The Sword Ghost answered decisively before taking a swig of whiskey.

“If this were when he was in the Arian Family, the two of them would have put on quite a match. But now there’s a considerable gap. The current Mustan cannot surpass Raon.”

He let out a short sigh and shook his head.

“But you’re just going to let it happen?”
“My disciple needs to take a proper beating once.”
“That’s fair. He needs to get his head on straight now, or he’ll end up getting cut elsewhere.”

Rimer chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“So you’re saying you trust Raon?”
“Indeed. Given that boy’s temperament, I trust he’ll handle Mustan roughly without leaving wounds that would cause lasting aftereffects.”

The Sword Ghost said he naturally trusted Raon because his nature was warm and bright.

“Our boy isn’t that warm of a person, though?”

Rimer touched his eye socket where Raon had hit him before, his jaw trembling.

“He even beats his own master….”

*

*

*

Mustan’s hands trembled as he gripped his sword, his lips biting down hard. Raon approaching slowly looked like the grim reaper of the underworld.

‘What is this?’

Why can’t I block it?

My sword strike was torn apart like paper, but Raon’s blade pierced through my aura like a sharpened awl grinding its way through.
We’re clearly at similar levels, yet I can’t understand why such a gap has opened between us.

‘Damn it….’

I’ve already taken more than thirty blows, and my body is battered beyond recognition. If I take much more impact, I won’t even be able to swing my sword.

‘I don’t understand.’

I’ve mastered all of his swordsmanship, so why am I being pushed back?

I learned every flow and technique of Raon’s swordplay while watching alongside my master, yet I couldn’t comprehend why I couldn’t defeat him.

“You look confused.”

Raon stepped forward and raised his sword.

“If you don’t understand, keep learning through your body.”

With those words, his blade dropped sharply downward. The Radiant Sword—a sensory technique that grasped both the flow of technique and aura.

‘I can block this.’

Since it was a technique combining speed, strength, and balance, I attempted to deflect it using absolute and flowing swordplay.

Clang!

Though it should have stopped midway or been redirected, his sword technique surged inward like a wild boar charging through.
The flow and form were identical, yet the very essence of martial philosophy contained within it had transformed.

“Could it be….”

Mustan’s eyes trembled like butterfly wings wet with rain.

“Have you advanced beyond my master’s teachings?”

It seemed that Raon had elevated his swordsmanship to a new level by using the counsel his master had imparted as a foundation.
Otherwise, the current situation made no sense.

“So you’ve finally noticed.”

Raon nodded calmly.

“Lectar told you, didn’t he? That a Sensation Swordsman can employ various martial techniques depending on the situation. Until now, I’ve only used sword techniques to target your weaknesses.”
“Ah….”

Mustan bit his lip. Hearing Raon’s words, the counsel his master had given him came vaguely to mind.

“You focused only on my blade, not on your own master, and that’s why you’ve ended up like this. I told you not to approach your master, yet it seems you don’t even listen properly to his advice.”
“Shut your mouth!”

He stamped the ground, erupting with the emotions boiling inside him.

‘I have to end this no matter what!’

Drawing up all his aura, he unleashed Radiant Soul Severance, the ultimate technique of the Crimson Sword Technique.

Screeeech!

Radiant Soul Severance was a thrust as swift as light itself—a supreme sword strike honed to the pinnacle of sharpness, speed, and precision.

Whoosh.

The moment Radiant Soul Severance drew near, a brilliant gleam ignited in Raon’s eyes.

‘This one’s quite impressive.’

It was the most formidable technique he had yet witnessed from Mustan’s arsenal.
Had he still been at the Master tier, he would have struggled considerably to devise a defense.

‘But….’

Not anymore.

Raon advanced toward the flashing blue blade and thrust the Heavenly Sword forward.

Whoooosh!

The breath of the Fire Dragon blazing from the blade swept across with a sharp cerulean light.

Crack, crack, crack!

The radiant aura embedded in Mustan’s sword melted away, and the thin blade snapped like a twig.

“Ah….”
“We’re not done yet.”

Raon drove his knee upward, striking the dazed Mustan’s jaw with a vicious kick.

Thud!

Mustan lost control of his body and crashed to the ground.

“Gaaahhh!”

I looked down at Mustan screaming with his hand clutching his mouth, raising my index and middle fingers.

“That’s two now? You still have ninety-eight to go.”
“W-what nonsense! I’ve already taken more than thirty blows….”
“I told you to count carefully. You should have said how many each time you got hit.”

I smiled ominously and swung the Jeche Sword.

“Bite down hard unless you want to eat porridge for the rest of your life.”

Though your teeth will probably come out anyway.

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