The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 558

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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 558

“S-Strange? What do you mean by that, sir?”

Geph’s eyes widened in confusion at the question.

“….”

I didn’t answer his question and turned my head again. After examining not just the female corpse but the other bodies as well, I clenched my jaw.

‘They’re all the same, as expected.’

The corpses bore marks on their necks and wrists that had been torn away roughly—as if deliberately meant to suggest they’d fallen victim to the White Blood Cult’s blood demons. Had I examined them carelessly, I would have concluded the same.

But upon closer inspection of the wounds, I could discern the mistakes made by whoever orchestrated this.

‘There’s a discrepancy in when the wounds were inflicted.’

The wounds on the wrists and necks—made to drain blood—had been created after the fatal injuries: pierced hearts or severed waists that had killed these martial artists.

‘That makes no sense.’

The White Blood Cult’s blood demons almost invariably tore flesh and drank blood from the living.

The blood festival orchestrated by the White Blood Cult was a ceremony of sacrifice to the Blood God, requiring fresh blood from the living.

In other words, they needed to tear flesh and drink blood from the living, not the dead—yet most of the corpses here had their wrists and necks torn after death.

‘Who orchestrated this?’

After examining not only the young woman but the other corpses as well, I became even more certain.

‘And most importantly….’

I swept my left hand across the Soul Reaper Sword worn at my lower back.

‘The Soul Reaper Sword isn’t resonating.’

The Soul Reaper Sword could sense the faintest traces of blood energy that even I found difficult to perceive, yet in this moment, it harbored only sorrow for the dead—no anger toward the White Blood Cult.

The branch members hadn’t fallen to the White Blood Cult, but rather to Strange Beings masquerading as them.

“Exactly.”

Martha examined the corpse of the middle-aged warrior and nodded.

“These people weren’t killed by the White Blood Cult.”
“W-what do you mean…?”

Dorian stumbled backward in shock.

“When the White Blood Cult uses blood techniques and tears flesh with their teeth, the blood vessels rupture outward to maximize blood loss.”

Martha pointed to the nape of the corpse’s neck as she continued.

“But everyone here has their blood vessels curled inward. They could have been torn by teeth, but this isn’t the White Blood Cult’s work. It’s a forgery.”

She shook her head with absolute certainty.

I smiled faintly as I observed Martha’s confident declaration that this was the work of a counterfeit White Blood Cult.

‘She’s continued her investigation all this time.’

For her to discern at a glance that this wasn’t the White Blood Cult’s doing, Martha must have continued researching them to save her mother.

“Her assessment is correct.”

I nodded in agreement with Martha’s words and turned my gaze toward Geph and Belus.

“Beyond the blood vessels, the wounds on the wrists and neck were inflicted after death. That’s not how the White Blood Cult operates when draining blood from the living. This isn’t the White Blood Cult—it’s the work of those imitating them.”

I showed everyone present the subtle color difference inside the wounds on the nape and throat.

“How did you figure that out?”

Martha tilted her head with curiosity.

“Of course I should know.”

The White Blood Cult was essentially my primary enemy, so continuous investigation was essential.

“Hmm….”

The moment Martha heard those words, she scrunched her face as if she’d heard something strange and stepped back with a start.

“What are you doing?”

As I let out a hollow laugh, Belus Lakion approached the corpses. A cold, heavy aura emanated from him—one that suggested his mood was far from pleasant.

“….”

Belus Lakion examined the bodies in silence, moving slowly before rising to his feet.

“It seems both of your assessments are correct.”

He looked at me and Martha in turn, then nodded gravely.

“I’ve never encountered the White Blood Cult myself, so I cannot speak to their blood vessels. However, the timing of the wounds is definitely different. It appears someone deliberately tried to frame the White Blood Cult for this.”

Belus Lakion readily admitted that their initial assessment had been mistaken, exhaling a sigh.

“If you haven’t experienced it yourself, you wouldn’t necessarily know.”

Martha waved her hand dismissively. Since Belus Lakion had acknowledged his error first, she responded with unusual gentleness, contrary to her typical demeanor.

“….”

I narrowed my eyes as I observed Belus Lakion taking a respectful stance toward Martha.

‘Did he truly not know?’

Belus Lakion’s epithet was the Serene Sword. A man of composure and cold judgment, the future Head of the Rakion Family, falling for such a crude deception seemed incomprehensible.

‘There’s no need to be suspicious of everything, but it would be wise to remain cautious… wait?’

As I was considering him a person to be cautious of, an indescribable stench emanated from Belus Lakion.
A grotesque odor that seemed to seep from a pit where garbage accumulated endlessly stimulated not just my sense of smell, but my very soul for the briefest of moments before vanishing.

‘What was that?’

I opened my eyes wide and observed the others. Burren Zigheart, Martha, and Dorian stood right beside Belus Lakion, yet they conversed peacefully as if they had sensed nothing.

‘Did only I perceive that stench?’
-The True Demon King sensed it as well.

Wrath clicked his tongue, irritation flashing in his eyes.

-That is the scent of corrupted demonic energy.
‘Corrupted demonic energy?’
-Pure demonic energy fouled and caked with filth—a vile stench born of distortion. The corruption is so severe I cannot even discern whose aura it originally was.

He stroked his own nose as if to wipe away the foul odor.

‘Demonic energy…’

On the Continent, only the Black Tower and the Demon Shadow Society wielded demonic energy.
However, artifacts imbued with demonic energy could also be used, so I could not assume it was necessarily one of those organizations.

‘Regardless, I must not lower my guard.’

I examined the corpses once more just to be certain, but I detected not even a trace of demonic energy. Whatever secrets Belus Lakion harbored would have to be uncovered gradually.

“Geph.”

I turned my gaze toward Geph.

“What became of the Mountain Fortress to the south?”
“Ah, word arrived just earlier—they say the Mountain Fortress collapsed entirely and they fled.”

Geph responded with a bewildered expression, as if he still could not believe it was not the work of the White Blood Cult.

“Then the investigation should begin from there.”

Burren Zigheart clicked his tongue briefly.

As he said, I needed to investigate the Mountain Fortress, but a premonition whispered that I would find nothing there.

“First, let’s have these people returned to the Family Estate.”

I walked past the tent shrouding the corpses and closed my eyes in silent tribute.

“Yes, that’s the right thing to do.”

Dorian nodded in agreement with my words.

“After that, why not come to our Family Estate? There’s nowhere suitable to stay in this area.”

Belus Lakion approached Rimer, suggesting they head to the Rakion Family to the east.

“Hmm….”

Rimer smacked his lips as if lost in thought, then turned his gaze away.

“Raon, what do you think?”
“Let’s go.”

If someone was suspicious, it was only right to keep watch from closer proximity.

I bit my lip as I looked at the dead swordsmen of the Family, my eyes still unable to close.

‘Whoever the culprit is, I will repay this grudge.’

*

*

*

After asking a merchant company that dealt with Zigheart to arrange for the dead to be returned to the Family Estate, I and the Gwangpung Corps finally departed the Sinigan Branch.

Having examined each of the fallen one by one, it was only when the moon had climbed to the center of the sky that we could enter the Rakion Family Estate.

Though the late hour had draped the world in thick darkness like a curtain, the interior of the Rakion Family Estate blazed with light as bright as midday.

“Welcome to Rakion.”

Belus Lakion opened the main gate, which gleamed with a sun-like crimson radiance, with a dignified yet measured bow of his head.

‘This place is equally extraordinary.’

The scale of the Rakion Family was incomparable to ordinary clans.
Not merely a family estate, but a sight that evoked a royal castle—smaller than Zigheart, yet possessing structures and facilities of such magnitude that no common house could rival.

As I followed Belus Lakion down the central avenue, the swordsmen stationed nearby bowed their heads with practiced precision.
True to a clan renowned for longsword mastery, the warriors’ auras were uniformly sharp and noble.

“This is the Patriarch’s Hall, where the Head of House resides.”

Belus Lakion halted before a structure as grand as a towering pagoda, erected at the innermost sanctum of the estate. Its form resembled a longsword piercing the heavens.

‘This place….’

As I heard those words, I rubbed my fingertips together. An intense, blade-like aura emanated from within that building.

“Ahem.”

Belus Lakion gave a brief, measured cough and knocked upon the door, which bore the image of a crimson lion.

“Head of House. I have brought guests from Zigheart.”
“Enter.”

A weighty voice, laden with gravitas, flowed forth in immediate response. It seemed to emanate both from directly behind the door and from the far end of a cavernous passage.

“Yes.”

Belus Lakion nodded and pushed open the door, stepping inside.

I cast a glance toward the Gwangpung Corps before following Belus Lakion into the Patriarch’s Hall.
Unlike Zigheart, the hall itself served as the audience chamber—no other rooms were visible, only the grand avenue leading toward the central platform.

Splendor. The space itself seemed to embody that very word. The crimson carpet felt alive with each fiber, as though treading upon living grass, while treasures of immeasurable worth lined both sides in orderly succession.

“Welcome, then.”

Upon the platform, stacked with gold instead of stone, the red-haired Old Man rose to his feet.
Though his frame was not particularly large, a raw, mountainous presence emanated from him, and despite the wrinkles etched across his face, his eyes blazed with vitality.

“I am Huan, Head of the Rakion Family.”

Huan Lakion surveyed the entire Gwangpung Corps with arrogant authority, tilting his chin downward.

“We honor you, Head of House Rakion.”

Following Raon’s salutation, the Gwangpung Corps bowed their heads to Huan.

“It gladdens my heart to see such distinguished heroes.”

Huan accepted the Corps’ greeting while his gaze fell upon Rimer, who stood motionless.

“It has been quite some time, Commander of the Gwangpung Division.”
“Ah….”

The moment Rimer heard the words “Gwangpung Division,” his eyes narrowed sharply.

“I am now Commander of the Gwangpung Corps. Would you address me correctly?”
“Ah, my mistake. The burden of age, you understand.”

Huan Lakion chuckled heartily, waving his hand dismissively.

“Then you must be the Dragon Slayer.”

His dark gaze shifted from Rimer and fixed upon Raon.

“Truly, you carry a different caliber about you. At twenty-one with such martial prowess—I would have found it difficult to believe had I not witnessed it myself.”

Huan’s throat bobbed visibly, genuine astonishment written across his features.

“With the Dragon Slayer and the Sword of Light gracing us with their presence, we must hold a grand feast.”

He muttered to himself that on such a joyous occasion, he could not simply sit idle—wine and tables must be prepared at once.

“My apologies.”

Raon stepped forward and shook his head.

“Given that we’ve lost comrades, I’m afraid the circumstances don’t permit drinking. I hope you understand.”

He declined with careful consideration.

“Ah, quite right. I nearly made a blunder.”

Huan struck his own forehead and chuckled.

“My apologies. At my age, foolish words slip out far too often. I trust you’ll forgive me.”

He apologized for his rudeness and called for Belus.

“Belus.”
“Yes.”

Belus rose to the platform at Huan’s summons.

“So, what of it? Were those who attacked the Sinigan Branch truly from the White Blood Cult?”
“No, they were not.”
“No?”
“No. Thanks to Prosecutor Raon and Prosecutor Martha, we discovered something….”

He reported everything that had transpired at Sinigan to Huan.

“You fool!”

Huan gnashed his teeth and struck Belus across the face. With a sound like a drum splitting, blood sprayed from Belus’s mouth, staining the crimson carpet.

“Unable to discern even such a simple matter—what an embarrassment before our guests!”

He turned Belus’s face and struck his cheek once more, letting out a curse.

“Hmm….”

I narrowed my eyes as I observed Huan and Belus.

‘The consensus was that his power is formidable, but he’s impulsive and short-sighted. Curiously, he seems well aware of his own limitations.’

Huan was precisely the man described in the intelligence files of the Black Market and the Bi-Yeon Society.

Yet I never imagined he would insult and resort to violence against Belus, whom he had chosen as his successor, right before outsiders from the Gwangpung Corps. He was far more crude than I had anticipated.

“I apologize for the unnecessary trouble this fool has caused.”
“Not at all.”

I shook my head while observing Belus’s back as he hung his head.

“You must be exhausted. I fear I’ve kept you far too long. For today, please take your rest.”

Huan smoothed out his furrowed brow and gestured to the Butler standing behind him.

“This way, if you please.”

The Butler bowed quietly, then opened the door to the Patriarch’s Hall and escorted the Gwangpung Corps outside.

“Ah, yes….”

The Gwangpung Corps, unable to speak in the awkward atmosphere, followed the Butler out of the Audience Chamber.

Before leaving, I glanced back slightly. Huan and Belus stood facing opposite directions, neither uttering a word.

‘What is the nature of their relationship….’

*

*

*

“Phew.”

Rimer stretched his back against the sofa in the lobby of the Abandoned Annex.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”
“You’ve visited before?”

Crain approached Rimer’s side with curiosity evident in his expression.

“Yes. I visited once when they submitted to us.”
“Submitted? So you fought against Rakion?”
“That’s right. It was back when the Head of House didn’t have a single wrinkle on his face.”

Rimer chuckled softly and nodded.

“At that time, Rakion was a rising family. They were brimming with confidence, and since our territories overlapped, we clashed frequently. Eventually, a full-scale war broke out, and we emerged victorious, bringing them into our Vassal Houses.”

He recounted his own experiences as lightly as if reading from a history book.

“It’s surprising you let them live.”

Martha tilted her head as if hearing this for the first time.

“Rakion was formidable, and they didn’t resort to any strange tricks or schemes. They always fought head-on with pure strength, and it seems the Head of House took a liking to that.”

Rimer’s eyes rolled upward as he recalled those days.

“I see.”
“I… I didn’t know that.”

The swordsmen exhaled as if they had naturally assumed Rakion had pledged allegiance to Zigheart first.

“But will Belus be alright? The Head of Rakion seemed quite angry…”

Dorian swallowed hard, concern etched across his face.

“He’s a man without sense.”

Martha also furrowed her brow, as if she hadn’t expected Belus to be struck.

“Ugly.”

Lunan muttered his disapproval of Huan, his vacant eyes glaring.

“He was far too violent compared to Belus.”
“Right. To strike his own son right in front of us…”
“He seemed like someone who just lives by his temperament.”

Not only the unit leaders, but every swordsman of the Gwangpung Corps cursed the Head of House Rakion and muttered that Belus was pitiful.

I narrowed my eyes as I listened to the consistent opinions that Belus was pitiful and the Head of House Rakion was tyrannical.

‘Could he have wanted this reaction?’

For a brief moment, the Gwangpung Corps’ perspective shifted from the Zigheart branch to Belus and Huan.
It felt deliberate—as if he’d struck Belus intentionally to project the image of an ignorant and tyrannical head of house.

Crack!

I clapped my hands lightly to gather the attention of the Gwangpung Corps swordsmen.

“You’ve all worked hard today. You must be shaken by what happened, so go rest now.”
“We’re… really resting?”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Right? I thought you’d make us train today too…”

The swordsmen widened their eyes in surprise at my unexpected permission to rest.

“Want me to change my mind?”
“Huh!”
“N-No, sir!”
“We’ll leave at once!”

When I tilted my head as if asking whether they wanted training instead, the swordsmen quickly shook their heads and rushed to their chambers.

“Unit leaders, stay behind.”

I had Burren, Martha, and Lunan remain on the sofa and closed the door.

“What is it?”

Burren tilted his head, wondering why I’d kept only them.

“The Rakion Family seems suspicious to me.”

I told the unit leaders everything I’d been thinking about until now.

“In truth, establishing a branch in Sinigan was likely meant to keep the Rakion Family in check from the start. As time passed and the Rakion Family grew quiet, it probably became nothing more than a formality.”
“That’s right.”

Rimer nodded with a look of surprise in his eyes.

“The moment we brought the Rakion Family under our control, we established the branch as a precaution. Decades have passed, and since the Rakion Family hasn’t caused any trouble, everyone forgot about it. How did you know that?”
“Because it’s only natural.”

I lowered my hand, speaking as if it were nothing remarkable.

“Then when the branch was attacked, wouldn’t the Rakion Family be the first suspects?”

Burren Zigheart narrowed his eyes as he looked at me.

“That’s what most people would naturally think. But there are plenty of opinions that the Rakion Family shouldn’t be considered suspects. Just looking at all of you now, no one is actually suspecting the Rakion Family.”

I shook my head calmly.

“Most importantly, Belus Lakion failed to recognize the wounds of the White Blood Cult.”

Even without knowledge of the White Blood Cult, it was incomprehensible that he would overlook such a significant time difference in when the wounds were inflicted.

The biggest suspicion was naturally Maggie, but since that was something only I felt, I decided not to say anything for now.

“The Rakion Family Head seems like just a foul-tempered man—I can’t believe someone who hits his own son in front of guests would scheme so carefully.”

Martha twisted her lips, suggesting that the Rakion Family Head seemed like a simple person.

“Even that could be an act.”

I looked at the three unit leaders in turn and tapped my finger on the table.

“And most importantly, traitors don’t have much time.”
“Not much time?”
“Right. Everyone knows we recently rooted out the traitors within the family, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Now that the internal purge is complete, everyone knows the next step is to scrutinize the Vassal Houses. There’s a possibility that those growing impatient—those whose feet were itching to act—were discovered at the branch before they could carry out their plans, prompting them to attack it instead.”

We had no concrete evidence of what exactly happened or proof that the Rakion Family was responsible, but there were certainly enough grounds for suspicion.

“Then why did you come here? It could be dangerous.”

Lunan Slion drove home a fair question with his piercing gaze.

“It could be dangerous, yes. But….”

I lifted the corners of my mouth as if I’d been waiting for that very question.

“There are things I can only learn by coming here.”
-Food!

The moment those words left my lips, Wrath jolted awake, drool still glistening on his face.

-I’ve been starving all day, so let’s eat first! That’s the most important thing, isn’t it!
‘…Please, just go back to sleep.’

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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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