The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 532

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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 532

I spent the late night at an inn in a small village built near Capoli Village.
It was a place that served both as a dining hall and lodging, but after sleeping and waking, the establishment was empty. Neither the owner nor the kitchen staff were anywhere to be seen.

-I’m starving! Where has everyone gone!

Wrath waved his hand, demanding I find the kitchen staff at once.

-Bring sustenance to the True Demon King!
‘They’ll be here soon.’

I brushed aside Wrath, who was pressing his plump belly against me, and took a seat at the central table.

Shortly after, the inn’s door opened, and a man with an expressionless face—as if wearing a mask—approached and stood across from me.

“It is an honor to meet you, Raon.”

The man bowed with his hands clasped together.

“I am Denzel, of the Black Market Master’s direct command, the Black Blade Unit.”
“I am Raon Zigheart.”

Since Denzel had already revealed his position, I saw no reason to conceal my true name.

“You’ve arrived faster than I expected.”

I offered Denzel a faint smile. Unlike myself, who had known about the Zombie Assassin Factory beforehand, the Black Market had only recently learned of this information, so I hadn’t anticipated their arrival would be so swift.

“This is no ordinary matter, after all.”

Denzel exhaled a sigh tinged with resignation and took the seat across from me.

“As you mentioned, the disappearances of martial artists have increased recently. Cases of the wounded vanishing, or corpses disappearing shortly after death, have become even more frequent.”
“Hmm….”

I watched Denzel naturally unfold the information, my lips curling slightly.

‘Fast and precise.’

Denzel had also informed me of where the martial artists and corpses had disappeared from, and which ones they were. To gather such detailed information so quickly—the Black Market Master’s intelligence network and financial power truly seemed to surpass even the Six Emperors Five Demons.

“If we continue investigating the traces left by the missing martial artists, we might be able to forge a path to track down that secret force, though it will require some effort. However, it will take considerable time. Would that be acceptable?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Pardon? What do you mean…?”

Denzel’s eyes widened in confusion at my words.

“Yesterday, I located the factory where corpses are transformed into assassins.”
“Is that… truly so?”
“As expected, it was situated beneath the Iron Ore Factory. The scale was far larger than I anticipated. There were considerable numbers of assassins and necromancers…”

I relayed all the details about the Zombie Assassin Factory’s location, facilities, and personnel that I had gathered yesterday.

“Huh.”

Denzel stood speechless, his mouth hanging open, unable to believe I had gathered such invaluable information in merely a single day.

“So the Jade Fate Malevolent Spirit and the Calamity Master Spirit were there. Those wicked demons who regard people as less than beasts…”

He ground his teeth in evident disgust toward the necromancers Schupel and Juran.

“With information of this caliber, we can move much faster. Let me prepare—”
“There’s more.”

I shook my head at Denzel, who had begun to rise.

“The woman who appears to be in charge there mentioned that new supplies are arriving tomorrow.”
“Supplies, you say…?”
“Naturally, martial artists to serve as materials for the zombie assassins.”

Both living martial artists and the corpses of the already deceased would be flooding into that location tomorrow.

“Ah, then—!”

Denzel let out an exclamation of understanding.

“We can fabricate a pretext—that we tracked those martial artists and discovered the location! We should strike tomorrow!”
“Agreed.”

There was nowhere on the Continent where the Black Market lacked informants.
If we claimed to have spotted the missing martial artists entering the Lake while searching for them, we could evade Derus Robert’s suspicion entirely.

“Brilliant. I can’t think of a better approach given our circumstances!”

Denzel exhaled sharply, regarding Raon with newfound appreciation.

‘Now I understand why the Black Market Master has shown him such extraordinary consideration.’

The Black Market Master had consistently provided Raon with invaluable intelligence beyond monetary measure.
He’d wondered at the apparent loss, but this young martial artist possessed a worth that transcended gold.
This was clearly an investment made in advance—not for the present, but for the far more promising future this man represented.

“I’ll prepare for immediate entry tomorrow. I’ll rapidly mobilize our martial artists as well—”
“No.”

Raon shook his head slowly.

“I’ll handle the fighting alone.”
“B-but they’re assassins. Facing them is entirely different from fighting ordinary martial artists—”

Denzel swallowed dryly, his concern evident.

“It’s fine.”

Raon slowly lowered and raised his eyelids. A chilling, glacial aura emanated from his cold gaze.

“I’m accustomed to such battles.”

*

*

*

The Robert Family Grand Garden.

Derus Robert’s typically quiet promenade was bustling with an unusual crowd today.

“Congratulations.”
“Our best wishes to you.”
“Young Master. Happy birthday!”

The guests gathered in the Garden, dressed in elaborate formal attire and gowns, approached Lepon Robert, Derus Robert’s youngest son, offering their congratulations.

“Thank you.”

Lepon, dressed in a black formal suit resembling Raon’s, bowed to the guests. A line had even formed before him for those wishing to offer their greetings.

Such elaborate courtesy for a boy not yet twenty years old—it was a testament to just how formidable the Robert Family’s prestige truly was.

Yet despite receiving congratulations from so many, Lepon’s expression remained far from bright.
As he exchanged greetings with an awkward smile, two swordsmen guarding the Garden’s entrance announced loudly.

“The Head of House enters!”

With the swordsmen’s grand proclamation, Derus Robert stepped through the entrance of the Robert Family Grand Garden.
His stride was neither hurried nor leisurely, yet it radiated an unmistakable presence—a dignified entrance that spoke volumes of who he was.

“The Head of House!”
“We greet the Head of House.”

Derus acknowledged the guests’ greetings with ease and took his place before the Fountain erected in the center of the Garden.

“Lepon, come here.”
“Yes, Father.”

Lepon, today’s guest of honor, approached his side.

“I am truly grateful that you have all traveled so far to celebrate Lepon’s birthday.”

Derus placed a hand on Lepon’s shoulder and offered a gentle smile.

“Not at all!”
“Rather, we are honored!”
“Please call upon us anytime!”

The people bowed their heads, expressing their gratitude for being present at such an occasion.

“Your kind words are deeply appreciated.”

Derus Robert offered a subtle smile as he made eye contact with each person in turn.

“Lepon. You should offer your greetings as well.”
“Yes, Father.”

Lepon stepped forward with his lips pressed firmly together.

“Thank you all for celebrating my birthday with me.”

He offered a stiff smile and bowed toward the center of the gathering.

“Hurrah!”
“Congratulations once again, Young Master!”
“Wishing you good health in the years to come.”

The crowd, fully aware of Lepon’s expression, directed thunderous applause toward Derus standing behind him.

“It seems there isn’t much time left before you come of age, Young Master Lepon. Do you have any aspirations?”

The head of the Lapatan Family, a Vassal House of the Robert Family seated at the forefront, asked with a smile.

“I wish to become a swordmaster like Raon Zigheart.”

Lepon answered without hesitation, revealing his goal and dream.

“Raon Zigheart?”
“Ah, the White Sword Dragon….”
“I see….”

The crowd seemed to understand why Lepon’s expression had been so grim, and they fell silent for a moment.

“This child has admired Swordmaster Raon since long ago. Given the current circumstances, I hope you will understand.”

Derus gently took Lepon’s trembling hand and offered a benevolent smile.

“There’s been no official announcement that Raon the Swordmaster has departed yet, so have faith and wait. From what I’ve seen, he’s not the type to die so easily.”
“Yes, Father!”

Lepon nodded at Derus Robert with evident emotion.

“I apologize for dampening the mood of this fine day.”

He composed himself and approached the guests to exchange greetings.

The people smiled, moved by Derus Robert’s warmth—the affection between father and son, and his consideration even for the warriors of rival families.

Derus Robert watched Lepon converse with the guests with satisfaction before slipping away to an empty space on the left.

“What is it?”

As he turned his back and asked, Kubara emerged from the shadows of the thicket holding a tray and prostrated herself.

“The supplies you ordered have arrived at the entrance of the Factory’s corridor.”
“How many?”
“Sixty-two living materials, and one hundred thirty dead materials.”
“Who escorted them?”
“Valmail.”
“An excellent choice.”

He nodded, satisfied that Valmail had taken action.

“Valmail’s senses are sharp, so he’ll have handled it well on his own. Good. Have them brought in.”
“Yes.”

Kubara handed him the wine glass from the tray and quietly disappeared.

“Not so easily killed, then….”

Derus Robert moistened his lips with the wine Kubara had left and gazed at Lepon.
His eyes, watching his son who had regained his smile, turned cold and distant.

“Such things don’t exist in this world.”

*

*

*

Bayon Lake, which bordered Haro Mountain, split silently in two.

As Lecia, standing before the lake, made a brief gesture, the flow of mana twisted, creating an illusion of a tranquil lake as if the waters had never been parted from the beginning.

“It is done.”

As Lecia nodded toward the rear, Strange Beings clad in black robes and wearing masks emerged.

“From now on, follow only where I step.”
“….”

The Masked Men did not respond, quietly falling into line behind her.

Lecia walked along a path slick with mud and moss until she reached a turtle-shaped rock jutting from the center of the lake.
As she caressed the rock with a finger infused with mana, the ground opened, revealing a passage within.

“….”

It was a sight that would make anyone’s jaw drop in wonder, yet the Masked Men showed no reaction, their eyes remaining unchanged.

“Come inside.”

Lecia, as if she had expected this, showed little reaction and entered the passage first.

Whoooosh!

The moment all the Masked Men had entered the passage, she caressed the wall. The ceiling that had opened closed shut, and Bayon Lake returned to its original state.

“This way.”

As soon as the door closed, Lecia led the Masked Men down the corridor at a sprint.
Her footwork was so swift that even seasoned warriors would struggle to keep pace, yet not a single one of the Masked Men fell behind.

Thud!

Lecia stopped in her tracks before the dozens of iron cages that had confined the dead warriors, then turned to face her companion.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Valmail.”

Lecia bowed her head to the Masked Man standing at the forefront.

“Lecia.”

The tall Masked Man with fierce eyes slowly nodded his chin.

“You understand how much interest he has in this place, yes?”
“Of course.”

Lecia bowed her head with careful respect.

“Is the improvement of the Zombie Assassins progressing well?”
“With the materials you’ve brought, Valmail, I’m confident we can achieve significant improvements.”

She regarded Valmail with steady, assured eyes.

“Hmm.”

As Valmail gestured toward the rear, the Masked Men placed their hands upon the ground.

Whoooosh!

Black shadows erupted from their palms, disgorging nearly two hundred people.

The sixty-some on the right breathed shallowly as if alive, while those collapsed on the left had already ceased breathing.

“Sixty-two living specimens, one hundred thirty-three dead ones. All are Expert rank or higher, and there are three Masters among them.”

Valmail pointed directly to the Masters with his finger.

“Masters too!”

Lecia examined the Masters’ condition and nodded vigorously.

“Let us ascend together. Both of you will be welcomed.”
“No need. Seeing those old fools only sours my mood.”

Valmail waved his hand dismissively, showing no interest whatsoever.

“…Understood.”

At Lecia’s light gesture, assassins concealed around the prison burst forth and began locking the people Valmail had brought into the iron cages.

Their rough handling roused the living prisoners one by one back to consciousness.

“What… what is this….”
“Where are we….”
“Who are you people!”

The martial artists screamed from within their iron cages, but Lecia and Valmail paid them no heed.

“This mere iron…?”
“My… my dantian….”
“Our aura is sealed!”
“Damn it!”

They trembled as they realized they could not channel their aura, having failed to break through the iron bars.

“Then I shall go and report to the Treasury.”

After securing all the martial artists, Lecia ascended the staircase erected at the corridor’s end.

“You bastards! Release me at once! Do you know who I am?”

A middle-aged martial artist who had regained his senses late shook the iron bars and bellowed.

“I am the Sikeron Master….”
“Sikeron, then.”

At the mention of the family name, Valmail moved for the first time. He approached the man who had cried out the Sikeron name, his eyes gleaming with a cold, menacing smile.

“Whether it’s Sikeron or Zigheart, it means nothing to me.”
“Wait, please….”

The Sikeron Master flinched, recoiling in terror at Valmail’s laughter.

“Where do you think you’re going, Sikeron Master?”

Valmail twisted his lips into a cruel smile and plucked out the Sikeron Master’s right eye with his finger.

“Aaaahhhhh!”

As he collapsed with a horrific shriek, all those who had been screaming for his release fell silent, their eyes trembling.

“Silence is golden.”

Valmail was shaking the blood from his hand when it happened.

Whiiiing!

Dozens of daggers erupted from behind him like soaring hawks, piercing through the hearts of the assassins and Masked Men hidden in the prison’s crevices.

“Wha—cough!”

Valmail tried to move before even turning around, but a cold blade had already pierced through his heart.

“Tch….”
“Even Zigheart means nothing?”

Raon, whose hair and eyes had been dyed black, held Valmail’s mouth shut while letting out an eerie smile.

That doesn’t seem to be the case.

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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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