The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 602

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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 602

The axe that had been hurtling down fiercely curved as if caught by the wind, leaving only a thin wound on Siran’s forehead before plunging into the river.

“Ugh!”

The moment the axe grazed her head, Siran urgently shifted her footwork and created distance between herself and Raon.

“Hmm….”

Raon frowned as he watched the axe sink into the river waters.

‘My reaction was too slow.’

Had the axe been aimed at me, I would have easily deflected it and severed Siran’s neck, but the axe had rushed forward from the start as if to split her head open. My reaction to that unexpected situation had been delayed, creating an opening for Siran to escape. The realization that I had moved exactly as the axe-thrower intended irritated me.
His slow reaction to the unexpected situation gave Siran an opening to escape. He was irritated that he had moved exactly as the axe-thrower intended.

It was the Ill Fortune, the warship of the North-South Alliance—a sight one could never forget once seen.
It was the front-line Ill Fortune of the Nambuk Alliance that, once seen, could never be forgotten.

Cuckoo cuckoo cuckoo!

A massive presence that spanned the entire River surged forth above the Ill Fortune, crushing the remnants of the Maritime Market into pieces.

Whoooosh!

The waves that had been churning trembled as if frightened by the overwhelming aura transmitted through his mere breathing, and the waterspout that had soared toward the sky subsided.
The overwhelming momentum conveyed through his breath alone caused the waves that had been surging to settle down as if frightened, and the waterspout that had soared to touch the sky subsided.

Roughly swept white hair, a black long coat covered in scars, and an axe shaped like a dragon’s head gleaming with blood-red light—it was King Roman, who was spoken of as a god of the Rabel River.
With his roughly swept white hair, black robe covered in scars, and a dragon-headed axe gleaming with blood—it was King Roman, who was no different from a god of the Rabel River.

“Why is this narrow-minded bastard appearing like he’s the main character!”

Wrath grumbled as if something was bothering him. Sometimes I envied that iron heart and composure of his.

“Come on, welcome! Roman!”

Siran rushed toward King Roman, nodding rapidly.

“That monster is dangerous! We shouldn’t wait until next year—we must kill him right now!”

She pointed accusingly, demanding that Raon be eliminated before he grew any stronger.

“….”

King Roman did not answer Siran’s outcry. Instead, he gazed at Raon.

“Has it been only two years?”
“A bit longer than that, actually.”

I met Roman’s gaze and exhaled slowly.

“Sighing right in front of me—your manners haven’t improved.”

Roman’s expression belied his words, breaking into a refreshing smile.

“Feinting an attack on that one to throw off her breathing—clever.”

He turned his gaze toward Siran and clicked his tongue softly.

“You used your head better than appearances would suggest.”
“It’s been a long time since I received praise from anyone.”

Roman chuckled and nodded.

“Roman! What are you doing!”

Siran stood beside Roman, her eyes narrowing in frustration.

“Kill him now! An opportunity like this won’t come again!”
“Siran.”

Roman exhaled heavily, looking at Siran with exasperation.

“How shameful.”
“What?”
“When I promised that young pup a life-or-death duel three years from now, Rector asked me something.”

He continued, observing Raon’s composed eyes.

“He asked what I would do if you killed him before those three years passed. What do you think my answer was?”
“Ugh….”

Siran’s lips trembled as if she already knew the answer.

“I said I wouldn’t care. If you die by the hands of an old man who’s lost his teeth and claws, then that’s all he was worth—no need to regret it.”

Roman twisted his lips into a thin smile as he observed Siran’s trembling eyes.

“So the reverse applies as well.”
“What…?”
“Just because Raon is at a disadvantage doesn’t mean I need to help. I too am a warrior who knows shame. I won’t commit such a vile act as interfering in a one-on-one duel.”

He waved his hand with a cold smile.

“Continue. I’ll serve as a notary to witness the victor.”
“W-what nonsense is this!”

Siran’s pale lips quivered.

“Why not just kill him right here and now!”
“Why should I?”

Roman shrugged his broad shoulders, wide as a river.

“My life-or-death duel with that young pup is set for January first next year. Plucking unripe fruit only leaves a bitter taste.”

He closed his eyes, cradling his axe in his arms, showing no intention of joining the battle.

“Roman! You cursed bastard!”

Even at Siran’s call, Roman did not open his eyes again.

“I have a question for you.”

Only after Raon spoke did Roman slowly lift his eyelids.

“What is it?”
“You said you wouldn’t get involved in the fight, so why did you save that woman?”

Just moments ago, Roman had unexpectedly even used his head to rescue Siran. I naturally assumed the two of us would clash together, but his refusal to participate in the battle seemed odd.

“You ask something simple.”

Roman tilted his chin upward, his lips curving slightly.

“I wanted to see directly how much you’ve grown.”

He said that was all, lifting the corners of his mouth into a smile.

“You madman! If the Alliance Leader learns of this….”
“He would praise me.”
“W-what!”
“The Alliance Leader’s order was not to touch Raon Zigheart. Since you violated the Alliance Leader’s command first, there’s no grounds to fault me for not saving you.”

Roman shook his head as if it were a simple matter.

“Ugh….”

Siran twisted her lips and retreated backward. It seemed she was trying to escape along the front line, lacking confidence in winning the battle right now.

“Where are you going, Wonchu?”

Roman blocked her path, his eyes gleaming fiercely.

“I am the notary of this life-or-death duel. I cannot leave this place until one of you dies.”

He unleashed a vicious aura of energy as if genuinely committed to his role as notary.

“You lunatic! Stop playing around!”
“I am always sincere.”

Roman gestured with his chin for her to leave quickly.

“If you leave, I will never forgive you!”

Siran, overwhelmed by Roman’s presence, breathed heavily and returned to her original position.

“Suit yourself.”

Roman smiled with leisurely composure, unbothered.

“What are you doing?”

He gestured with his eyes toward Raon, who stood before Siran.

“I’ve set the stage—now finish it.”
“How am I supposed to trust that?”

Raon furrowed his brow as he looked at Roman.

“You don’t trust me?”
“Of course not.”

Rimer, stepping forward, answered in Raon’s stead.

“You got excited and attacked me even after I blocked three of your strikes. The life-or-death duel happening next year exists because of your whims—and now you want us to trust you?”

Rimer glared at Roman, grinding his teeth.

“Where did you sell off your arm?”

Roman narrowed his eyes, looking at Rimer’s right shoulder.

“Never mind that—just answer the question.”
“Then was then, now is now.”

He swept his gaze across Siran and Raon in turn, twisting his lips into a smile.

“An elderly man dragging his frail body to avenge his grandson, and a prodigy seeking to kill not only his grandson but his grandfather as well. A clash like this will never come again.”

King Roman stomped his foot heavily and burst into wild laughter.

“I swear by my title as Demon King that I shall not interfere in this battle, nor shall I lay a finger on the victor. I will escort them home safely.”

He struck his chest, pledging his oath by his own epithet.

“Regardless of what he intends, we should see this through to the end.”

Raon nodded as he glanced toward Rimer.

“Very well, I understand.”

Rimer stepped back and exhaled deeply.

“If the Demon King interferes, I’ll stop him by any means necessary. Now finish this with Siran.”
“Understood.”

Though Rimer’s condition was far from ideal, he was a man of his word—unlike King Roman. I stepped forward with confidence in him.

Crunch, crunch, crunch!

Siran glared at Raon, grinding his teeth with such force they seemed ready to shatter.

“I’ll shred you so thoroughly you won’t even feed the fish!”

He raised his fishing rod. Waves surged once more as a formidable aura began to coalesce.

Raon narrowed his eyes as he observed Siran’s eyes, now blazing crimson.

‘His resolve is remarkable.’

Siran knew he had already lost. Despite his spirit being shattered, he forged his will from nothing but the desire for vengeance—to avenge his grandson.

“Hraaaaah!”

Siran extended his fishing rod fully and swung it down. The fishing line, imbued with Kangwhan, whipped like a lash toward my neck.

Whoooosh!

I coated my blade with the sparks erupting from my core, drawing a searing line of crimson heat across the descending fishing line.

Screeeech!

The fishing line, which had been as rigid as steel wire, tore apart effortlessly and scattered into the air. The float and hook attached to it snapped clean off and sank into the water.

I watched Siran stagger and licked my lips.

‘Indeed, she’s weakened.’

Siran’s aura remained formidable, but the very intent to kill me had diminished. It seemed the weight of her defeat had taken its toll.

‘Still…’

I couldn’t afford to underestimate her.

A human consumed by vengeance was unpredictable. I couldn’t celebrate victory prematurely—I had to maintain my focus until the very end.

I wove the river’s current into my footwork. Moving with the fluid grace of Taewhasa’s three steps, I closed in and thrust the Heavenly Sword toward Siran’s throat.

Clang!

Siran clenched her teeth and raised her fishing rod into a defensive stance. Blood scent bloomed from her lips—she’d suffered severe internal injuries.

Ting!

I seized the moment as Siran regulated her breathing and drove deeper into her space.

“Ugh!”

Siran retreated with urgency, swinging her fishing rod in a wide arc. While her intent lacked depth, the sheer volume of her aura was overwhelming.

‘She won’t break easily.’

I gripped the flat of the Heavenly Sword firmly and drove my right foot down, quelling the turbulent river. Extending my left hand with the Soul Reaper Sword, white shadows traced across the crimson blade, enveloping the incoming river energy.

Raon Zigheart-style swordsmanship.
Fifth Form: White Shadow Flash.

The White Shadow unfolded by the Soul Reaper Sword washed away the massive aura that had exploded from the fishing rod as if erasing it entirely.

“Huh?”

Siran’s eyes widened in disbelief as the colossal aura vanished in an instant.

*Screeeech!*

Raon surged forward at the startled Siran, driving the Thirty-Six Strikes of Crimson Flame through her vital points. The blade that severed thirty-six directions in a single strike tore across her weak spots.

*Splurt!*

Though I had protected her heart and throat, the other wounds burst open, and Siran’s entire body became drenched in blood in an instant.

“Ugh….”

Siran lowered the fishing rod weakly, her expression revealing pain and despair.

As I brought down the Heavenly Sword to finish it, Siran gripped the blade with her left hand and seized my wrist with her right.

“Got you!”

Despite the vicious torrent of blood pouring from her grip, Siran’s lips curled into a long, twisted smile.

I tried to pull the sword and wrist free, but she wasn’t using just aura—she was channeling her very life force, and it wouldn’t budge.

“If I cannot kill you, then we shall go together!”

Siran’s skin blazed crimson as if burning, speaking of mutual destruction. Her core pulsed violently, beginning to emit a tremendous surge of energy. It seemed she intended to detonate her aura and self-destruct.
His dantian began to throb violently, emanating a tremendous aura. It seemed as though he was trying to detonate the Unit’s aura and self-destruct.

“I thought you would.”
“I thought that would be the case.”

Raon gave a short nod as he watched Siran draw a scornful smile.

“Your act was too clumsy.”
“Your acting was really bad.”

Siran retreated with eyes burning with vengeance, feigning weakness. But I had seen through her deception from the start—I knew she harbored ulterior motives.

Boom!

I released my grip on the Heavenly Sword that Siran held and opened my palm wide.

“You, you bastard!”

As Siran thrust her left hand forward in desperation, I deflected it with my shoulder and unleashed my right hand in a sweeping arc.

Wrath’s Demon Lord Clash Technique.
Silver Moon Demon Field.

-No! My technique!

As the silvery flash erupted alongside Wrath’s cry and struck Siran’s chest, his entire body froze solid in an instant.

Crackle, crackle, crackle!

He had concentrated all his aura in his core for self-detonation, leaving him defenseless against the freezing cold of the Silver Moon Demon Field. He became nothing but a block of ice.

“You….”
“I told you. I’d send you to where your grandson is.”

I watched Siran’s trembling form and brought down his right arm—the one gripping my wrist.

“D-dying….”

Siran couldn’t even finish his final words before freezing completely and plummeting into the river.
His eyes, which briefly surfaced, were streaked with crimson veins—unable to accept his own death.

“You’ll be reunited with your grandson in hell.”

I watched Siran’s cold corpse sink beneath the river’s surface.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

As I exhaled a turbid breath, thunderous applause rang out like the striking of a gong. Turning around, I saw King Roman clapping his hands with a refreshed smile on his face.

“Excellent. That was impressive psychological warfare.”

Roman nodded and stepped forward.

“You truly didn’t move.”
“I told you. I’m a man of my word.”

Roman waved his hand as if it were obvious.

“Hah….”

Raon exhaled sharply and shook his head.

“So I can leave now?”
“Of course. Your battle with the Elder Council here was a fair duel.”

Roman nodded as though it were self-evident.

“However….”

He uncrossed his arms and gripped the crimson axe handle tightly with his right hand.

“A new battle is different.”
“What?”
“What I wanted to see wasn’t psychological games—it was a clash of pure power.”

Roman grinned and stepped closer. His massive frame made each stride seem to close several meters at once.

“I need to test whether your blade is sharp enough for a true life-or-death duel.”
“What do you mean?”
“Three strikes.”

He held up three fingers on his left hand.

“If you can withstand three strikes from me, I swear I’ll let you leave without laying another hand on you.”

Roman lowered his axe. Where the blade barely touched the river, the water began to bubble and churn.

“That lying bastard.”

Rimer furrowed his brow as he regarded King Roman.

“You can’t even keep a single promise! And you wagered your very name!”

He twisted his lips and gripped his sword as if to step forward himself.

“Then from now on, do not call me Demon King.”

The Demon King laughed, saying he would forfeit his title since he had broken his oath.

“That bastard….”
“Leave this to me.”

I pushed Rimer back and stepped forward.

“You wanted to see my true strength?”
“Yes. With so many spectators coming, we cannot afford to put on a pathetic display.”
“Very well.”

I nodded and adjusted my grip on the Heavenly Sword and Soul Reaper Sword.

“Then let me verify something as well.”
“What?”

King Roman squinted, as if questioning my meaning.

“If your axe is not as heavy as my expectations….”

Crimson lightning flickered across my eyes.

“I will sever your head right here and now.”

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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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