The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 850

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 850

“Ah….”

Aris Zigheart’s lips trembled as she gazed up at the ornate brown ceiling adorned with elegant patterns.

‘I’m alive?’

She had believed she would never open her eyes in this world again, yet here she was, unmistakably breathing, unmistakably alive.

‘Where am I….’

As her eyes moved, she took in the luxurious furnishings and wallpaper, and on the table to her right lay medicine and bandages stained with blood.
It appeared a high-class mansion had been converted into a treatment room.

‘Is this Uncle Pedrick’s Residence?’

Pedrick had used one of Zigheart’s mansions as a treatment facility, and this appeared to be one of those infirmaries.

With great effort, she lifted her head and looked out the window, catching sight of the path leading to the Annex Building. There was no doubt. This was Zigheart.

‘Why am I here?’

She had been captured by Seif in the deepest part of the Wizard Dungeon. She couldn’t recall how she had returned to Zigheart.

‘After I was stabbed in the Cavern… ah!’

As her consciousness gradually returned, the final scene from her remaining memories surfaced.

“Ri, Rimer….”

The image of Seif’s black sword piercing through Rimer’s chest, of Raon witnessing that moment—a memory so vivid it seemed impossible to dismiss as a nightmare crept back into her mind.

“Aaaaahhh….”

Aris Zigheart clutched her head, releasing a cry that seemed to tear from the depths of her throat.

‘No! No! If I’m here, then Rimer must be okay too, right?’

I grasped at a sliver of hope—since I had survived and returned to Zigheart, perhaps Rimer had also lived.

But at the same time, my senses as a warrior spoke the truth: the wounds Rimer had sustained were beyond what anyone could survive.

‘Seif. Why did you…?’

The Seif I knew was not righteous, but he possessed a gentle and kind heart.
I had strengthened him precisely to protect that tender spirit from breaking or being wounded, yet I never imagined a person could change so drastically.

‘Is Raon alright?’

Seif had absorbed my blood and shattered the wall of transcendence.
Worries flooded in about what he might have done to Raon and whether the children of the Gwangpung Corps were safe.

“Ugh…”

As Aris Zigheart sat in anguish, clutching her head with both hands, the infirmary door opened and Pedrick and Rabawin entered.

“…Aris. You’ve awakened.”

Pedrick released a heavy groan upon seeing her distorted eyes.

“Lady Aris!”

Rabawin rushed toward her without even noticing the bandages and wet cloth fall from his hands.

“Are you… are you alright?”

He pressed his trembling lips firmly together as he gazed at her gaunt cheeks.

“Rabawin.”

Aris parted her parched lips with frustrating slowness.

“What happened? What became of Rimer and Seif!”

She asked about them before anyone else.

“That’s….”
“Rabawin. Summon the people.”

Pedrick exhaled slowly and nodded toward Rabawin.

“Yes, understood….”

Rabawin gazed at Aris Zigheart’s trembling eyes before leaving the Infirmary with heavy steps.

“Sir. Why did you send Rabawin away? Please tell me. I’m so frustrated I feel like I’ll die again….”

Aris Zigheart pressed her hand against her still-healing chest and coughed blood. Her heightened emotions seemed to have reopened the internal injuries that had begun to settle.

“Neither I nor Rabawin can tell you that story.”

Pedrick grasped the cloth on the table and shook his head.

“The one who holds the answers you seek will come. Wait for him.”

He showed no intention of giving her the explanation she desired, merely wiping away the blood trickling from her lips.

“The one who holds the answers….”

Aris Zigheart bit her lip and swallowed the blood rising in her throat, lifting her head.

“Is it Raon?”
“Yes.”

Pedrick nodded calmly, as if this much was permissible to reveal.

“Haa….”

Aris Zigheart released a breath of relief, her trembling hands clasped together.
She had been worried about Raon’s condition, but knowing he would come here brought her some comfort. At least it meant Raon was safe.

“Thank goodness. Really….”

As she waited for Raon while clinging to a faint hope that Rimer might still be alive, a commotion erupted from outside the Infirmary.

Whoosh.

The sound of shallow breathing reached my ears before Raon and Glen entered the infirmary.

“Ah….”

The moment I saw Raon’s eyes, I swallowed the question I had been about to ask.
In my nephew’s eyes, which once perceived the world through bright light, now lay a mature darkness.

Snap.

I realized the fragile thread of hope I had been clinging to had broken, and my hands, which I had been holding against my chest, fell away.

‘Rimer….’

*

*

*

Raon bit his lip as he watched Aris trembling.

‘I never thought Aunt could appear so fragile.’

In some ways, I had always regarded Aris as even stronger than Glen.
She was always brimming with confidence, a composed warrior worthy of admiration regardless of gender.

But the Aris before me now stood pale and trembling with anxiety.
She looked like someone whose every hope had shattered, drowning in despair.

‘Aunt….’

After Rimer’s death, I had blamed myself, then redirected my resentment toward others.

The person I had directed my greatest resentment toward was Aris.
I had harbored absurd grievances—why had she sought out Seif, why had she fallen into emotion and failed to prevent Seif’s ambush.

But after bidding Rimer farewell, I came to understand. There was someone else to blame.

The one who destroyed Seif and killed Rimer was Derus Robert. He was the only person I should resent, the only one I needed to kill.

‘The person suffering the most right now isn’t me—it’s my aunt.’

She had been betrayed by the son she’d barely found, that son had killed Rimer whom he treated like a friend, and ultimately she died by her nephew’s hand.

If all of this had been my burden, I might have lost my mind despite the mental fortitude I’d gained from living a second life.

“Sigh…”

I released a quiet breath to dispel the tangled emotions weighing on me, then approached Aris.

“Are you feeling alright?”
“…”

Aris bit her dry lips as she met my somber gaze.

“…Will you tell me what happened while I was gone?”

She seemed to know the outcome to some extent, yet she wanted to hear it from me.

“Of course.”

I nodded and sat in the chair beside her bed.

“I’ll tell you everything. After you were stabbed by Seif…”

There was no point in hiding something like this. I decided to trust in her mental strength and tell her everything.

“…and so I chased Seif and Bardiel out of the dungeon.”

I paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling before lowering my gaze again.
I watched her eyes, which seemed ready to burst if touched, before speaking the final words.

“After that, I killed them both with my own hands. I’m sorry.”

I lowered my head as I told her I had killed Seif with my own hands.

“…”

Aris closed her eyes without speaking, and tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes fell, wetting the blood-stained pillow.

“I’m sorry.”

Aris opened her eyes again and struggled to sit up. She tumbled from the bed and tried to force herself onto her knees.

“It’s all my fault.”

Aris let out a groan like metal scraping against metal as she bowed her head.

“If I hadn’t volunteered to find Seif, if I hadn’t let my emotions weaken me, if I hadn’t let my guard down against Seif! Me! Me! Meeeee!”

She blamed herself and struck her chest wound—still not fully healed—with her fist. The white bandage soaked through with blood, and blood burst from her mouth.

“It is not Aunt’s fault.”

I grasped Aris’s blood-soaked fist and shook my head.

“The one to resent is Derus Robert, not Aunt.”
“No! It’s all because of me! I….”

Aris, lacking the strength to pull her fist away, sank down and began to sob.

“Aunt….”

I bit my lip as I watched Aris, drained of all strength, unable even to cry properly.
A different kind of ache pierced my chest than when I learned of Rimer’s death. I wanted to say something to comfort her, but there was nothing I could offer.

“Aunt. I….”
“Raon.”

As I tried to speak words of comfort, Glen placed his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. It seemed to mean that Aris needed time.

-You weren’t stable from the beginning either.

Wrath looked at Aris and clicked his tongue bitterly.

-That reckless fool will need time as well.
‘Yes. That’s right.’

Just as Wrath had said, Aris’s current state was no different from when she first awakened.

“Aaaahhh….”

Aris gasped for breath as her chest tightened, then closed her eyes and collapsed.

“Aunt!”

Raon grabbed Aris’s shoulders and arms, shaking her body, but she did not wake.

“Step aside.”

Pedrick exhaled deeply and examined Aris’s condition.

“She’s merely lost consciousness from mental exhaustion. It’s not serious yet, so there’s no need to worry.”

He assured them it would be fine, then placed Aris back on the bed.

“Lady Aris….”

Rabawin seemed to understand Aris’s feelings, covering his mouth as he wept quietly.

“We’ll have to postpone the sparring match.”

Glen Zigheart said they would spar another time, shaking his head heavily.

“Yes.”

Raon nodded, then caught sight of Glen Zigheart’s eyes and clenched his teeth tightly.

‘Now that I think about it….’

Grandfather’s face was in no better state.

Focused on his own emotions, I hadn’t noticed, but Glen Zigheart’s eyes had darkened considerably.

‘Of course.’

He had lost Rimer, his closest subordinate; his grandson had killed his grandson; and his daughter was devastated both mentally and physically—Glen Zigheart must be suffering the most right now.

However, as befitted the Head of House of Zigheart, he revealed his sorrow to no one, instead offering comfort and care to those around him.
It was admirable that he could not expose his own emotions, yet it was also heartbreaking.

“I shall remain here. Go and inform the other children that Aris has awakened.”
“Understood….”

After bowing deeply, I left Pedrick’s Residence.

“….”

I gazed up at the brilliant sky, exhaling a turbid breath, my heart heavy with unspoken thoughts.

“Human relationships truly are difficult.”

*

*

*

“So this is the black sword everyone speaks of.”

Balkan narrowed his eyes as he examined Seif’s black sword, which resembled dark amethyst joined together.

“What a peculiar form. It looks as though the jewel was carved rather than forged.”

He stroked his chin, remarking that he had never seen a sword like this before.

“Raon said it possessed this form from the moment he first laid eyes upon it.”

Roen nodded as he placed the black sword upon the table.

“This blade is possessed by a demon—a demon cursed with a terrible curse at that. How can such malice and ill intent be so concentrated?”

Balkan muttered in understanding how the sword had stolen Aris’s power, releasing a hollow breath.

“You must not touch it directly yet.”

Roen blocked Balkan’s hand as he reached for the black sword.

“As you said, a curse is placed on it, so it rejects anyone who isn’t its master. Even in its current dormant state, anyone but the Master will lose consciousness the moment they grasp it.”

He furrowed his brows, explaining that one must reach at least Master rank to wield this blade.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Balkan shrugged, asking what could be done when he couldn’t even hold it.

“That’s why the sorcerer from the Beast Alliance has come. If they suppress the curse, we should be able to see it.”

As Roen lowered his head, an elderly man with a gray beard, who had been leaning against the wall, stepped forward.

“Fasciron.”

The Beast Alliance’s sorcerer introduced himself as Fasciron and gazed down at the black sword with hawk-like eyes.

“Indeed, a vicious curse dwells within it. It seems to have consumed the blood of at least a thousand people.”

Fasciron let out a low groan, saying it had been a long time since he’d seen an object imbued with such a powerful curse.

“This blade was forged by coagulating compressed blood through curse sorcery. It would be harder than steel—harder than any metal, really.”

He covered his nose and mouth with his hand as if feeling nauseous.

“However, the curse is currently dormant. It seems other conditions must be met for it to awaken.”
“That is correct.”

Roen nodded, looking at Fasciron.

“According to the Gwangpung Corps Master, the curse of blood dwelling in the Cavern was also utilized together.”
“Many people must have died there as well. However, it seems that’s not all.”

Fasciron placed his hand on the blade of the black sword and chanted an incomprehensible incantation.

“It’s not just that?”

Balkan tilted his head, not understanding what he meant.

“Restrictions. Like martial arts or magic, sorcery can exert greater power when restrictions are placed upon it. For example, if you place a restriction such that only a certain person can use the blade, or murders can only occur in a specific location, the power granted becomes stronger.”

Fasciron furrowed his brow, stating that this was the foundation of sorcery.

“….”

Roen said nothing more and closed his mouth.

“Only the White Blood Sect and Eden possess the power to wield sorcery of this caliber. Of course, there’s also Derus Robert. If that demon has hidden forces, that would be another matter entirely.”

Fasciron exhaled shortly, saying he would need to examine it further.

“So can you break the curse embedded in this blade?”

Balkan’s eyes gleamed with anticipation, saying that would be necessary before he could examine the sword closely.

“….”

Fasciron examined the blade without answering, then shook his head heavily.

“It can be broken, but not by myself alone. As I said, with over a thousand layers of blood accumulated, dozens of sorcerers would have to die.”

He lowered his eyes, saying that breaking the curse on the black sword would require considerable sacrifice.

“Sigh, how vile.”

Balkan bit his lip, utterly exasperated.

“Would it be alright if I took a look as well?”

Denier entered through the Reception Room door. He smiled faintly, expressing his desire to examine the black sword once.

“Ah, now that I think about it, the Master of Hyunmu Division studied this field as well.”

Roen clapped his hands softly as the memory came to him.

“Right. I remember the nickname ‘omnivorous’ now.”

Balkan nodded, saying he had also heard rumors of Denier’s reputation.

“It’s not omnivorous, but rather that I possess extensive miscellaneous knowledge.”

Denier let out a hollow laugh and grasped the black sword resting on the table.

“Sorcery isn’t my specialty, but I do know a thing or two about curses. This is…hmm?”

As he attempted to lift the black sword from the table, a hand materialized alongside a gust of azure wind, seizing the blade.

“My apologies….”

It was Raon. Having materialized like a thunderbolt, he stood with the black sword firmly in his grasp, his expression cold as he shook his head.

“The Head of House cannot touch this sword.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————