The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 598

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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 598

I applied gentle pressure to my grip, as though merely grasping a fallen leaf.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

The refined young man had cultivated some martial skill, but the overwhelming disparity in strength left him helpless—he could only shriek.

“Y-you madman!”
“Release him at once!”
“Are you begging for death!”

The warriors seated at the same table rushed forward, drawing their blades with practiced urgency.
The killing intent that emanated from them was viscous as blood—they had clearly taken many lives.

“Other guests are dining, after all.”

I let out a soft chuckle and hurled the young man over my shoulder.

“Conversations should take place in quieter surroundings.”

I flung him toward the empty wall to my right.

Crash!

The arrogant fool shattered the wall with his back, crumpling to the floor.

“Gahhhhh!”

He didn’t lose consciousness, but the agony was severe—he writhed on the ground, his back scraping against the debris as he wailed.

“Uh… uh…”
“That… that madman…”

The warriors trembled, their jaws quivering as if they’d never imagined such a scene would unfold.

I left them to their shock and stepped over the ruined wall, seizing the arrogant fool’s head in my grip.

“How dare you! Do you have any idea who this person is!”

The Ogre Warrior, who appeared to be the leader among the warriors, approached with trembling lips.

“Who?”

I asked while maintaining my grip to prevent any information from slipping away.

“He is Markren, the second son of the Komarn Sword Family!”

The Ogre Warrior thrust his sword forward, demanding I release my grip if I valued my life.

“The… the second son of the Komarn Sword Family, Markren?”

My mouth fell open as I heard those words.

“If you’re a warrior, you should know what kind of family Komarn is. If you don’t want your family dead as well, release him at once!”
“Krkrkr….”

Markren, the so-called second son of the Komarn family, curled his lips upward.

“It’s already too late. Not just you, but all the women here and your family—I’ll slaughter every last one of you!”

He wore a bloodthirsty smile, as if everything was already decided.

“How terrifying. But where exactly is Komarn located?”

I let out a hollow laugh and glanced at Dorian.

“What, what?”
“You crazy bastard!”

Markren and the Ogre Warrior’s eyes widened in shock.

“It’s an up-and-coming renowned sword school located in the south-central region of the Continent.”

Dorian, who had been compensating the Dining Hall owner for the collapsed wall, nodded. He had apparently paid quite generously, as the owner was actually smiling.

“Strong?”
“The unit commander could sweep them all away by himself.”
“What, what nonsense is this!”

Markren let out a cry of disbelief.

“Kill these insolent bastards at once!”

At the Ogre Warrior’s shout, armed men with swords rushed toward Raon.

Clang!

Raon turned away as if it were meaningless, and Dorian, Rimer, and Leiran moved into action.

“It’s troublesome. Lower your swords.”
“I don’t want to kill people in someone else’s dining hall. So cooperate with us.”
“I’ll kill you all.”

The three of them aimed their blades and bow at the warriors’ throats, their killing intent palpable and chilling.

“What, what is this!”
“I couldn’t even see them move….”

The Komarn Sword Family’s warriors, instantly recognizing the gap in their abilities, trembled as they lowered their swords.

“You, who are you.”

Markren Komarn asked, his lips quivering.

“I ask the questions.”

Raon drew a faint smile and tightened his grip slightly.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!”

That alone was enough to make Markren scream in agony, his arm hanging limp as he let out a piercing wail.

“What do you mean by offering more than the auction?”
“P-please, let go first….”

He pleaded with trembling lips for me to loosen my grip. I eased up just enough to let him speak.

“Speak straight, or I’ll crush your skull.”
“I-I meant it literally. I was going to buy an Elf.”
“You’re wearing a robe—how did you even notice?”
“W-well, Elves have been appearing in the market lately, so it was a bit obvious.”
“Appearing in the market?”
“Ah, you don’t know? After the Grand Forest burned and Sepia’s barrier collapsed, injured Elves are being put up for auction as merchandise… AAAHHHHH!”

The word “merchandise” made my grip tighten involuntarily. Markren thrashed and screamed that he was dying.

“So you’re telling me they’re kidnapping injured Elves and putting them up for auction?”

Raon rephrased what Markren had said, seeking confirmation.

“Y-yes, that’s right. Elf slaves are extremely rare, but ever since that incident, they’ve been appearing at auctions….”

Markren explained that he was on his way to buy slaves, so he’d assumed Siyan and the other Elves were slaves as well.

Raon furrowed his brow as he watched Markren tremble.

‘This is bad.’

I’d hoped my suspicions were wrong, but it seemed they’d aligned with the worst possible scenario.

“Where is the Maritime Market located?”
“O-on the Feren River.”
“A river, not the sea?”
“It’s a river connected to the Rabel River, but it’s so wide that calling it a sea wouldn’t be an exaggeration.”

Gripped by terror, he answered even questions I hadn’t asked.

‘The Rabel River….’

The Nambuk Alliance controlled the Rabel River. It seemed the Maritime Market they were referring to was somehow connected to the Nambuk Alliance.

“If we go now, can we participate in that auction?”
“Y-yes, we can.”
“Do you have an invitation?”
“Pardon?”
“You must have an invitation letter.”

A slave auction of this caliber wouldn’t accept just anyone. There had to be an exclusive invitation for entry, reserved only for the select few.

“H-here….”

Markren withdrew a black envelope from his coat—one that seemed to devour light itself.
Upon opening it, I found Markren’s name inscribed alongside an invitation to the Maritime Market.

“Demonic bastards!”

Leiran’s clenched fist came down hard against the ground, unable to contain her fury.

“Raon.”

Siyan approached and bowed her head. Her eyes no longer held their usual timid gaze.

“Could you delay our departure to Zigheart for a while?”

Even in her soft voice, rage burned beneath the surface.

“Of course we’re going.”

Rimer shed his usual playfulness, his eyes gleaming with cold murderous intent.

“Dorian.”

I gestured toward the three of them, calling out to Dorian.

“You have disguise tools, right?”
“Of course—they’re essential.”

Dorian nodded and retrieved a large box from his ship’s storage pouch.

“If we disguise ourselves as them and enter, we won’t raise any suspicion.”

I pointed the invitation in my hand toward Markren and the warriors of the Komarn Sword Family.

“I’ll bring my kinfolk back, so Siyan and Leiran should wait outside….”
“No, that won’t do!”

Leiran shook her head firmly.

“Please, let me come with you!”

She dropped to her knees in supplication.

“I’m asking too.”

Siyan bowed her head carefully beside Leiran.

“Even with a disguise, the Elves will be exposed immediately because of their ears.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem.”

Dorian shook his head and pulled out an Elf-specific disguise tool from his collection that could alter the shape of ears.

“Why do you even have that?”
“It’s essential equipment.”

Dorian chuckled and waved his hand dismissively.

-What exactly isn’t essential equipment for that bastard?
‘I have no idea….’

*

*

*

After completing our disguises, I headed toward the Feren River with Rimer, Dorian, Leiran, and Siyan.
Just as Markren had said, a river stretched wide as if viewing the sea, and in its center floated a medium-sized ship.

‘Is that the Maritime Market?’

Markren said there was a Maritime Market inside that ship.
On the surface, it appeared to be an ordinary vessel, but when I released my senses and observed carefully, the mana flow was slightly distorted.

“Branch.”

Disguised as Markren of the Komarn Sword Family, I arrogantly tilted my chin and approached the ferryman who had leaned his small boat against the gravel bank.

“I wish to cross the waters.”

As I handed the ferryman an invitation and spoke the secret phrase, a blue gleam flowed from his seasoned eyes.

‘An expert.’

I sensed Master-tier lower-grade combat power. This ferryman appeared to be responsible for the initial inspection.

The ferryman created wrinkles around his eyes and bowed his head.

“I shall guide you far and wide.”

He raised his hand, gesturing for me to board the boat.

I nodded and climbed onto the weathered small boat. Despite its appearance of sinking, the boat moved smoothly and reached the ship floating in the center of the river.

A rope ladder descended from the ship, inviting us to climb aboard.

“I shall go first.”

When Dorian tried to grab the ladder, I struck his hand and shook my head.

“Don’t waste time with unnecessary gestures.”

To maintain my arrogant portrayal of Markren, I pushed Dorian aside and boarded the ship first.

The deck was unremarkable. Several sailors were cleaning it, and among them, a bear-like middle-aged man with his upper body bare gestured with his chin toward the crew quarters.

“Hmph.”

I snorted and opened the door to the crew quarters the middle-aged man had indicated.
Inside, there were several doors on both sides, all of them dark, with only a soft candlelight illuminating the central corridor.

I tilted my head in confusion, unsure of which direction to go, when a man in formal attire emerged from the left door and bowed respectfully.

“Markren. Welcome to the Maritime Market.”

He bowed and gestured with his hand for me to enter. The room appeared to be an ordinary cabin, but a staircase leading downward stood in the center.

“Who are you?”
“I am Harry, and I will be guiding you today, Markren.”

The formally dressed man introduced himself as Harry and bowed again.

“Please, this way.”

Harry turned and descended the staircase, motioning for me to follow.

‘Skilled warriors are hidden here.’

Martial artists lay concealed in every direction around the staircase—above, below, left, and right.
They possessed considerable skill, and I identified their positions as I descended. After going down stairs equivalent to one floor of a building, I pushed aside a blue curtain and a new world opened before me.

Beneath the brilliant illumination cast by golden chandeliers, people in elegant suits and dresses indulged in gambling.
There were familiar games like poker and roulette, alongside bizarre gambling games I had never encountered before.

“A modest entertainment for our guests.”

Harry raised his hand, as if suggesting I try a game.

“Not interested.”

I shook my head firmly.

“You have a singular focus, I see.”

Harry smiled faintly and nodded in understanding.

“What you seek lies further below.”

He walked past the gambling house with measured steps, gesturing for me to follow once more.

I glanced back just to be sure, and fortunately, Rimer showed no interest in gambling whatsoever. When it came time to be serious, he was more composed than anyone else.

Harry descended the stairs beyond the darkly luminous door, going deeper than when heading to the Gambling House. Only after descending more than four flights of stairs could we reach our destination.

“Here we are.”

As Harry opened an antique-looking door that appeared to be made of red leather, a dark chamber with soft lighting on the floor came into view.
It resembled a tiered platform, but it was extraordinarily spacious and deep—like a lecture hall on the scale of what you’d find in the Magic Tower.

‘Quite a collection of unsavory characters.’

The auction hadn’t even begun, yet most of the seats were already filled with people.

“This way, please.”

Harry guided me to seat 253. As I settled into the luxurious chair with its black leather backing, a woman in a maid’s uniform approached and poured wine into my glass.

“The auction will begin in thirty minutes, and the items you desire should come up starting two hours from now.”

He smiled knowingly, as if he already understood what Markren wanted.

“Understood.”
“Then please enjoy your time.”

As I waved my hand dismissively, Harry quietly withdrew.

“Just wait a little longer.”

After setting up a thin barrier that no one else could perceive, I looked toward Leiran and Siyan.

“Haah…”

Leiran lifted her head, which she’d been bowing with trembling hands.

“I apologize. I don’t think I can hold back.”
“What?”
“I can sense the presence of my kin from deeper within.”

She bit her lip, having already detected the existence of the Elves.

“….”

Siyan felt it too, her fists trembling against her knees.

‘Hmm….’

I furrowed my brow.

‘I deliberately didn’t mention it….’

I had intentionally refrained from mentioning the Elves’ presence to keep Siyan and Leiran from becoming agitated, yet both of them seemed to have sensed it on their own.

“Don’t get excited. Let’s wait for now.”

Rimer stroked the back of his neck and closed his eyes. He maintained his usual composure, yet he appeared far more enraged than anyone else present.

I steadied my breathing and waited for the auction to begin. Before long, lights illuminated the platform, and a handsome man with a refined appearance emerged, dressed in a pristine black tuxedo.

“Welcome to the Maritime Auction. I am Eren, your host for today.”

He bowed respectfully, his hand placed over his chest. The auction participants watched the host in silence, offering no response.

“It seems we have many taciturn guests today.”

The host smiled refreshingly and nodded.

“Then let’s begin without delay.”

As he clapped his hands briskly, a woman in a crimson dress emerged from behind the right curtain, carrying a small jar.

“We have something splendid right from the start.”

The host accepted the jar and placed it upon the central table.

“This jar is called Sionene—an ancient artifact. When you place fruit or food inside, it grants an exquisite sweetness to the palate. Remarkable in itself, but if that were all, it would hardly warrant an appearance at this auction.”

He set the jar down carefully and raised his fingers.

“The true purpose of the Sionene jar is the enhancement of elixirs. When crafting elixirs with this jar, the efficacy increases by at least ten percent, or so it is said. In times like these, when elixirs are scarce, this is an indispensable treasure.”

The Announcer finished his explanation and stepped back behind the jar.

“Then we’ll start at ten gold coins. Oh! Straight to one hundred gold coins! Gentleman number 222 has bid one hundred gold coins!”

The people who had shown little interest in the jar quickly raised their hands at the mention of strengthening their spirit elixir.

-Buy it!

Wrath shot to his feet and raised his finger like the other bidders.

‘Why are you buying that? You don’t even consume spirit elixir….’
-Doesn’t it say the sweetness becomes stronger!

I furrowed my brow at his ridiculous reasoning.

-Just imagine putting pearl ice cream inside it! Think about how delicious that would be!
‘….’

For a moment, I had been under a grave misunderstanding. I sighed and shook my head.

‘Please, just behave yourself today.’

*

*

*

As I watched the auction while exchanging light banter with Wrath, time slipped away unnoticed.

Crack!

Half of the platform’s lights suddenly extinguished. The remaining lights dimmed further, creating an eerie atmosphere.

“We are truly grateful for all the VIP guests who have remained with us.”

The Announcer raised his voice slightly and offered a subtle smile.

“We will now begin a special auction operated exclusively by our Auction House.”

The moment I heard the words “special auction,” I knew the time I’d been waiting for had arrived.

“Everyone present today has seized good fortune. It’s truly exceptional, after all.”

The Announcer gave two light claps.

Clang.

With the sound of chains rattling, a woman in a yellow dress emerged from behind the right curtain. Around her neck hung chains that clashed with her attire.

Though a thick veil obscured her face, her silhouette alone revealed she was a stunning beauty.

“Everyone here surely knows of the great fire that recently consumed Sepia. We were fortunate enough to ‘happen upon’ those injured there and rescue them.”

With those words, the Announcer touched the veiled woman’s shoulder. She trembled with fear, her shoulders quivering.

“We treated their wounds and gave them this wonderful opportunity to meet a fine master. Isn’t this what a generous society looks like?”

The Announcer spouted his nonsense while gesturing with his fingers.

“Now, allow me to introduce her. Kasia of the Wuren Branch Tribe!”

With that, the Announcer removed the woman’s veil. Pointed ears, translucent skin, and flowing hair—an elf’s enchanting face was revealed beneath the lights.

“Ooooh!”
“A real elf!”
“Breathtakingly beautiful….”
“Worth the wait!”

The fervent excitement of the crowd engulfed the entire Auction House.

“She is….”
“Never mind! Start already!”
“Aha! You’re eager, I see. Very well. Let’s begin this auction at one gold coin.”
“1,000!”

Some didn’t even raise their hands—they simply shouted the amount of gold coins themselves.

“Ugh….”
“Damn it….”

Siyan and Leiran trembled as if seized by convulsions, clearly recognizing the Elf named Kasia.
Blood trickled from between their lips. They were desperately restraining themselves with every ounce of their strength.

“We don’t know how many others are here. Please wait just a moment longer.”

I gestured silently to the two of them, my hand raised in a calming motion. They nodded heavily in understanding.

“What a generous gentleman! Kasia has been sold to Bidder 210!”

By then, Kasia’s auction had already concluded. She was being led away to an elderly man whose belly protruded prominently—purchased for an astronomical sum.

“There’s no need for disappointment. Or rather, you already know this, don’t you? We’ve only just begun.”

The Announcer chuckled and clapped again. Before the second clap even faded, another woman—slightly smaller in frame than Kasia—emerged with her face similarly veiled.

“Sadly, this child lost her parents in the recent fire disaster. She’s looking for kind new parents to care for her.”

He grinned wickedly as he approached the child and removed the veil covering her face. A female Elf with short golden hair and slightly upturned eyes trembled with fear, her lips quivering.

“Heyrin of the Cotton Branch Tribe seeks a new mast—”
“Heyrin!”

Leiran could no longer contain herself and cried out. From the moment they mentioned she was of the Cotton Tribe, she had anticipated this outcome.

“Oh… sister….”

Heyrin’s lips trembled a sickly pale color as she gazed at Leiran.

“You bastards!”

Leiran drew her bow, radiating a murderous aura so intense it was suffocating.

“Well, well. We have some distinguished guests.”

The Announcer remained utterly unfazed, smiling broadly.

“How wonderful and kind the world is, when the merchandise walks right into the auction house on its own.”

At a snap of his fingers, armed men hidden throughout the Auction House burst forth and surrounded us.

‘There’s no helping it.’

If the handmaidens of the Annex Building had ended up in such a state, I too would have found it difficult to restrain myself.

“Elves? This is not Sepia. There is no guardian here to save you.”

The Announcer smirked and tilted his head. It seemed this was far from his first time doing this.

“All rivers belong to the Nambuk Alliance. Once you enter these waters, you cannot leave as you please.”
“Hah….”

I exhaled sharply and rose to my feet.

“The Nambuk Alliance owns this river? If we go just a bit upstream, we’d be in Zigheart Territory.”
“It seems you are not an Elf after all, but rather affiliated with Zigheart.”

The Announcer chuckled and nodded.

“Your words are correct. Go just a bit upstream and you enter Zigheart Territory. But that is land, and this is a river. The flag planted in these waters belongs only to the Nambuk Alliance….”
“No. From this moment on, this river belongs to Zigheart.”

I pulled back the hood that had concealed my face. Golden hair fluttered down in the breeze, and crimson eyes that banished darkness gleamed with a sharp, piercing light.

“Wherever I stand is Zigheart.”

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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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