The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 46

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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 46

I surged forward and brought my blade down in a devastating arc. The crimson aura blazing across the steel tore through the evening air with merciless precision.

Skreeeech!

The lingering resonance of my aura, even after cleaving through the atmosphere, raked across the Training Ground like the claws of a wild beast.

It was a charging sword technique that combined the final forms of Resonance Swordsmanship and Garam Footwork.

‘Not bad.’

I twirled my blade and nodded to myself. The power was excellent, and the speed made it difficult to defend against even when seen coming.

‘Of course, that’s not all there is to it.’

This technique was an ambush form—like a hidden blade sheathed at my back, deployable at any moment, in any circumstance.

It seemed the assassin’s nature still lingered within me; I couldn’t help but think in terms of surprise attacks.

Hmm.

I turned at the sound of a snort from behind. Lunan Slion was watching my blade with an intense gaze.

Those sharp eyes gleamed faintly beneath, a glimmer of anticipation. She seemed to be asking me to teach her the technique.

“Hah!”

Lunan Slion pushed off the ground and slashed her sword through the air as if mimicking my form.

There was no speed, no power, no subtlety of ambush—only the posture. Yet given her exceptional ability and talent, even this incomplete form became a technique difficult to defend against.

“Is this right?”

After swinging her blade several more times, Lunan Slion tilted her head slightly and asked if she had it correct.

“Don’t do it that way. First, let’s start with your stance….”

If I hadn’t adjusted my stance slightly, I might have killed him during the sparring match.

Whoooosh!

Once I had corrected Lunan Slion’s posture to a reasonable degree, a cool breeze swept over the Training Ground’s wall. It was Rimer.

When he arrived on time, he’d kick the door open and stride in. When he was late, he’d vault over the wall.

In other words, training time had just ended.

“Hmm!”

Rimer perched himself atop the platform and gazed down at the trainees.

“Instructor. You’re ten minutes late.”
“Good work today, everyone.”

He turned his head as if he hadn’t heard Burren Zigheart’s remark.

“Ten minutes is enough time to swing a sword ten thousand times, sir.”
“Ah, come on! Ugh!”

Rimer’s expression twisted as he responded to Burren Zigheart’s absurd comment. He looked caught.

“Ahem, anyway, I have two pieces of news to share today. First, it’s about the 6th Martial Grounds.”
“The 6th Martial Grounds?”
“Why suddenly mention that place?”
“Isn’t that where the ones who failed went?”

The trainees shook their heads, wondering why he was bringing up the Martial Grounds where the failures had gone.

“It seems the Owen Kingdom delegation disregarded the 6th Martial Grounds and only requested matches at the 5th Training Ground, which hurt their pride. They’re apparently training relentlessly to catch up with us.”

Rimer chuckled proudly, impressed by the 6th Martial Grounds trainees.

“Even the direct line and Branch Family members who fell behind due to injuries have recently joined, and they’re focusing on the most grueling training. Don’t let your guard down. Make sure you give your all every moment so those kids don’t catch up to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Uh, well…”
“Besides, they’d have to be capable of catching up in the first place.”

The trainees pouted their lips, their expressions suggesting they saw no point in preparing when the gap was already so wide.

“Heh.”

Rimer nodded as if he’d expected exactly that reaction, then delivered his second announcement.

“Next week, I’m planning something very special in training.”
“W-what kind of training, sir?”

Dorian, already trembling with apprehension, shook his shoulders nervously.

“Special training, you say.”
“What is it? What else could there possibly be left to do?”

Because Rimer had orchestrated so many unusual exercises in the past, not just Dorian but all the trainees grew anxious.

“That’s a secret.”
“Ah….”
“Instructor, shouldn’t you tell us what kind of training it is beforehand so we can prepare accordingly?”

Burren Zigheart raised his hand and made a fair point, but it naturally fell on deaf ears with Rimer.

“Where’s the fun if I tell you? If you train hard, you’ll be able to handle whatever comes.”
“Hmm….”

Since he had a point, Burren Zigheart pouted and lowered his hand.

“But I’ll give you one hint….”

Rimer spread his fingers and smiled. It wasn’t his usual light or cheerful laugh—this smile carried an intense determination.

“Real combat.”
“Real combat, sir?”
“All of a sudden?”

At the mention of actual combat rather than sparring, the trainees’ eyes widened in shock.

“Not all of a sudden—it’s time now. Since I said we’d prepare, I’m telling you clearly.”

The smug smirk that had lingered around Rimer’s lips began to dissipate, replaced by something far more unsettling than mere seriousness.

“You’d do well to prepare yourself for bloodshed this time.”

*

*

*

After finishing his training, Rimer left the family estate and made his way toward the Western Outskirts Entertainment District.

The Entertainment District was a place frequented by swordsmen and servants seeking respite, dotted with various shops, dining establishments, and taverns.

He hummed to himself as he walked through the streets, eventually entering a tavern at the eastern end called the Magnolia Tavern.

Despite its elegant name, the tavern was worn and cluttered, with every seat occupied and the cacophony of patrons’ voices nearly deafening.

Rimer nodded appreciatively at the chaotic atmosphere and approached a middle-aged man sitting alone on the right side.

“You came quickly.”

He sat down across from the middle-aged man with a grin.

“Mages have plenty of time to spare.”

The middle-aged man, dressed in a black robe and reading a book, nodded slightly.

“It’s been a while, Rimer.”
“My drinking companion. How have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been enjoying myself well enough.”
“Quite leisurely for someone who became a tower vice-master.”
“Ha, isn’t it you who’s overflowing with leisure? Who do you think earned the reputation of being a wage thief?”

The middle-aged man closed his book and chuckled.

“I’ve been busier lately, so I miss those days when we’d just drink together.”
“I heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with the trainees, taking good care of them.”
“It’s not quite that much.”

Their conversation flowed with the smoothness of velvet—a testament to the deep bond between them.

“Bervin. What have you been up to lately?”
“Since you haven’t been attending drinking gatherings, I’ve been living for the pleasure of reading books.”

The man called Bervin waved the book in his hand.

“At the Magic Tower, there’s nothing to do but research and read books.”
“Fair enough.”

Rimer nodded as he observed the grimoire in Bervin’s grasp.

“So what brings me here today? Your expression suggests this isn’t simply about sharing a drink.”
“I did feel like having a drink, but I also have a favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
“My disciples have grown quite strong. I want to give them real combat experience against monsters.”
“Hmm, you could have submitted a formal request for that.”

Bervin tilted his head in confusion. Arranging combat trials between trainees and monsters was already part of the standard curriculum. There was no need to visit personally and ask.

“I’d like to add a few modifications to it.”
“Modifications, you say?”
“My disciples are quite strong. Ordinary monsters won’t be much help.”
“Ah, I heard they defeated the Owen Kingdom’s training knights.”
“Well, that’s true.”

Rimer lifted his chin with a smirk, feeling as intoxicated as if he’d been drinking, hearing praise for his disciples from an old friend.

“I want to strengthen the monsters that will spar with the trainees. To the level of Sword Beginner Advanced.”
“That’s possible. A mage who entered the tower a few years ago specializes in monster summoning and control. We could even turn a worm into a dragon.”
“You can really do that?”
“I was joking.”
“You really are….”
“We can’t turn a worm into a dragon, but making an orc reach Sword Beginner Advanced is entirely feasible. Of course, not multiple at once—only one at a time.”

Bervin murmured that it wasn’t a particularly difficult task.

“Thank you, and one more thing.”
“What is it?”
“You can cast an illusion spell to make monsters look like humans, right?”
“That’s easy enough. Since these children haven’t even reached Expert level yet, all we need is a single artifact enchanted with illusion magic.”
“Perfect. Do that as well.”

Rimer snapped his fingers and drained the beer mug on the table in one gulp.

“But wouldn’t using enhancement and illusion simultaneously create an ordeal too difficult for the trainees to overcome?”

Bervin narrowed his eyes while turning his cup in his hands.

“Fighting orcs with enhanced physical abilities is already a struggle. If they appear as humans, the children won’t be able to wield their swords properly.”
“Ahhhh! This is what living is all about!”

Rimer slammed his beer mug down on the table with a satisfied exclamation.

“What did you say?”
“I said it would be difficult for the trainees to win. The monster enhancement is one thing, but killing monsters that appear as humans—that’s a difficult task for children.”
“It’s fine. Our kids aren’t children; they’re swordsmen. And….”

Rimer smiled wickedly. Anticipation and delight mingled in his deep green eyes.

“They’re strong. Both body and spirit.”

*

*

*

Magical lamps dispelled the darkness that had settled over the 5th Training Ground.

Most of the trainees had returned to the main house, but some children remained, still wielding their swords.

Lunan Slion was among them. She stayed in the Training Ground, practicing the thrusting technique Raon had demonstrated.

Whoosh!

Lunan Slion lowered her stance and thrust her blade forward. The strike was swift and fierce, piercing through the empty air, yet this was not the sensation she sought.

‘It’s not working.’

Raon’s thrust was less about raw power and more about fluidity and composure. It was so natural that one wouldn’t even sense the strike coming until it arrived.

No matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t quite grasp how to achieve that.

I glanced toward the Indoor Training Hall. Raon was currently engaged in strength conditioning. I didn’t want to disturb him.

‘Let me try a few more times.’

Lunan Slion reset her stance and thrust her blade into the void. I adjusted my posture, but the sword form didn’t change much.

‘Again.’

The sound of the blade cutting through the air shifted slightly. The speed and power diminished a touch, but a subtle ease now emanated from the sword’s tip.

‘That’s a bit better.’

Lunan Slion nodded firmly and adjusted her grip. I continued repeating the same stance, thrusting the blade over and over.

I only stopped when the moon rising from the east had climbed two finger-widths higher into the sky.

“Phew.”

Lunan Slion nodded deeply.

‘It’s getting there.’

There was still a long way to go before I could catch up to Raon, but the final form of the Soft Blade Technique had definitely transformed. Though power and speed had diminished, the flow and smoothness had improved considerably.

“Mm.”

I looked back toward the Indoor Training Hall. The lights were still on, and I could hear Raon, Burren Zigheart, and Martha shouting their battle cries.

As I pondered what to do, my mother’s words came to mind.

I’ll buy you some bead ice cream. Come by quickly this weekend.
‘I should go.’

Lunan Slion immediately sheathed the training sword. Deciding to ask about the lacking parts next week, I left the Training Ground.

Just as I was about to rush toward the outer edge of the Training Ground to return quickly to where the attendants were waiting, a man’s shadow flickered in the dim Alley.

“Lunan Slion.”

As I tried to ignore him and pass, the shadow stepped forward and called out her name.

“Ah….”

Lunan Slion stopped abruptly. Her always fierce eyes wavered as if struck by waves.

The man revealed himself. With short silver hair and deep violet eyes, he was a beautiful young man bearing a striking resemblance to Lunan Slion.

“B…brother?”
“It’s been a while.”

Lunan Slion’s lips trembled as she stepped back, while the man approached with three measured steps, his smile gentle.

Siria Slion.
Her brother, and a man hailed as a generational prodigy of the Slion Family whose name was inscribed among the Twelve Continents’ greatest warriors.

“Ah….”

Yet seeing Siria Slion after so long, Lunan Slion’s face had turned ashen. Not as if greeting her brother, but as if facing a formidable adversary.

“Lunan Slion. Didn’t I tell you not to make that face?”

Siria Slion smiled faintly. His smile was composed, his tone gentle.

Yet anyone who observed his expression carefully would sense something unsettling. For while his lips curved upward, his eyes remained utterly devoid of warmth.

“Ugh….”

Lunan Slion’s teeth chattered as she lowered her head. As if forcibly suppressing her trembling emotions, her violet eyes, which had been wavering, darkened into shadow.

“Yes. That’s how it should be.”

Siria Slion approached with a smile still etched on his face and gently stroked Lunan Slion’s hair.

“Rimer’s training seems to be working well. You’ve grown stronger than I expected.”

He bent at the waist to meet Lunan Slion’s eyes.

In that instant, the mask fell away from Siria Slion’s face. His expression froze like rotting wood, and all color drained from his eyes. It was like gazing upon a monster whose emotions had been worn away to nothing.

“But that doesn’t mean you’ll go to the battlefield or engage in life-or-death duels, does it?”

His voice transformed as well—a tone as parched and merciless as a desert wind that withered all life.

“Ah… ah…”

Lunan Slion’s shoulders trembled violently. She clenched her fists and stumbled backward.

“Hmm, it’s loosened a bit? I’ll need to reinforce it.”

Siria Slion reached into the inner pocket of his coat. From his hand emerged a small squirrel with wide, startled eyes.

“Your pet squirrel’s name was Ruby, wasn’t it? The one you used to keep long ago?”
“B-brother?”

Lunan Slion stopped her retreat. She reached out to grab the squirrel.

“Now you’ll remember. How Ruby died. Why you came to fear blood.”
“W-wait!”

Siria Slion smiled with vacant eyes and tightened his grip with his right hand. With a dull crunch, only a handful of blood remained in his palm where the squirrel had been.

“Aaaahhhhh!”

Lunan Slion screamed and collapsed, but the barrier Siria Slion had set prevented anyone from hearing her cries.

“Lunan Slion.”

Siria Slion approached the collapsed figure and brought his lips close to her ear, whispering in a hollow voice.

“You’re mine. Until the appointed day arrives. Don’t do anything dangerous or difficult.”
“Ah….”
“Just breathe until I desire otherwise….”

Boom!

As Siria Slion attempted to carve his words of control into Lunan Slion’s mind, a deafening crash erupted through the Alley.

The ground crumbled and buckled. A golden-haired boy emerged through the billowing dust, his crimson eyes fixed upon Siria Slion with a piercing glare.

“Who the hell are you.”

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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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