The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 886

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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 886

“Huh?”

I blinked at Balkan and Kuberard, who were smacking their lips in anticipation.

“Are you saying you’ll examine my sword first?”
“Of course. We’ve gathered such fine materials—it would be wasteful to leave them unused.”

Balkan nodded, running his gaze over the dragon bones and teeth that filled the area around the Smithy.

“Using the teeth, bones, claws, and scales, I’ll forge you a blade that will never shatter.”

He clenched his fist, saying he would use this opportunity to strengthen the Heavenly Sword further.

“I forged the Heavenly Sword when you’d just left your trainee days, so it’s time for an upgrade, wouldn’t you say?”

Balkan spoke of this being the perfect opportunity, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“I share that opinion.”

Kuberard stood beside Balkan and nodded.

“As I’ve mentioned before, the Soul Reaper Sword was never originally crafted for combat. Since you’re using it as a weapon, I’d like to refine it somewhat.”

He rotated his thick wrists, saying he wanted to hone it so the Soul Reaper Sword’s power could be used more efficiently.

“If both of you are willing to work on them, I have no reason to refuse.”

I clasped my hands together in gratitude.

Had any other Continental Master Craftsman made such an offer, I would have declined outright.
Refining a blade forged by another, no matter how skilled the craftsman, was an extraordinarily difficult undertaking.

But Balkan had personally forged the Heavenly Sword, and Kuberard had personally forged the Soul Reaper Sword.

These two masters could refine both blades to perfectly suit my current level.

“May I join in as well?”

Borgos lifted his short legs and wedged himself between Raon, Balkan, and Kuberard.

“Borgos?”

Raon stared at Borgos with wide eyes.

“What’s a dwarf like you thinking of joining? You didn’t even forge any of these weapons.”

Balkan waved his hand dismissively, telling him to rest.

“I have a weapon. I crafted a dagger for my benefactor.”

Borgos tilted his chin upward, referring to the Thousand-Slayer Dagger he kept inside his black dragon robe.

“So you’re saying you’ll repair that dagger?”
“There’s something else as well.”

Borgos pointed with his finger at Rimer’s sword hanging from his right waist.

“Surely not….”
“Could elves who only know how to grow trees possibly forge a Moonwheel Blade? Of course it’s the work of our ancestors.”

He spoke of Rimer’s sword as a creation of his own ancestors, his lips curling upward with pride.

“Moonwheel Blade….”

I grasped Rimer’s sword, my lips pressing thin.

“So that was its name.”

Until now, I had called it Rimer’s sword or the leaf blade, but its true name was apparently the Moonwheel Blade. It was so like Rimer to depart without even telling me the weapon’s name.
It was so like Rimer to leave without even telling me the sword’s name.

“Didn’t you even know his name?”

Borgos tilted his head with a puzzled expression.

“It was never my sword to begin with.”
“Ah, right. You said Rimer took it with him….”

He exhaled heavily, now understanding the situation.

“I appreciate your sentiment, Borgos, but since this sword isn’t mine, it would be difficult to accept.”

Raon shook his head, saying he would need Sterin’s permission.

“No, it should be fine. I’ve been maintaining it consistently while the Mok Ryun Sword was in Sepia.”

Borgos snorted, saying he would have repaired it long ago if he’d had sufficient materials.

“I even told Sterin I would fix it. If you don’t believe me, I can send him a letter right now.”

He thumped his chest with his fist, asking for trust.

“You can trust him.”

Balkan chuckled, looking at Borgos.

“Dwarves don’t lie when it comes to their hammers.”

He gestured with his fingers, urging Raon to entrust the sword to him.

“Right. If he’s been maintaining that sword all along, he’ll handle it without difficulty.”

Kuberard nodded in agreement, supporting Borgos’s credibility.

“Mm.”

Raon smacked his lips briefly, then unsheathed all three swords he had been wearing at his waist.

“Then I’ll entrust them to you.”

With those words, he handed the Heavenly Sword to Balkan, the Soul Reaper Sword to Kuberard, and finally the Mok Ryun Sword to Borgos.

“Wait a moment. I’ll hone them into blades that can more firmly protect your goals.”

Balkan patted my shoulder, telling me to have faith.

“I intend to attune the Soul Reaper Sword so the vengeful spirits within can move more freely. With your current strength, you should be able to control their power.”

Kuberard’s eyes gleamed quietly as he said the Soul Reaper Sword would change quite considerably.

“I shall forge you a weapon as fearsome as a demon itself. One that can cut down anyone.”

Borgos pressed his lips together firmly, as if trying to channel the emotions he’d endured against the Balrog into the blade.

The three Continental Master Craftsmen appeared evenly matched in skill, yet each pursued entirely different forging methods.

“Since we’ve come this far, shall we make a wager?”

Borgos raised a finger.

“Whoever creates the finest masterpiece.”

He shrugged his shoulders as if asking wouldn’t that be entertaining.

“Refining a blade isn’t about comparison with others—it’s a battle with oneself…”
“Lacking confidence?”

Borgos rolled his eyes teasingly at Kuberard.

“Who do you think you’re talking to! I am Kuberard!”

Kuberard’s composed gaze vanished as he bellowed. It seemed he too had been concealing a fiery nature beneath that composure.

“Not bad.”

Balkan nodded approvingly.

“With Geumtan present as well, this should yield quite interesting results.”

He withdrew six Geumtan and distributed them, two to each.

“We have exactly one week. That should be fine, right?”
“Of course.”
“That’s more than enough.”

The three Continental Master Craftsmen gathered the necessary materials and dispersed to their respective workshops, beginning work immediately.

“…Are those really Continental Master Craftsmen?”

Burren Zigheart exhaled in bewilderment at the childishly playful behavior of the three craftsmen.

“They seemed to be enjoying themselves….”

Lunan Slion nodded, remarking that they looked like children playing together.

“That’s all well and good, but when are they going to make our swords?”

Martha wrinkled her nose, concerned that all three of them might end up working on Raon’s blade.

“There’s no need to worry.”

Palentun shook his head.

“Now that competition is involved, they’ll continue striving to create superior works.”

He chuckled, saying that if we waited patiently, renowned weapons and equipment would pour out in abundance.

“They’ll return soon enough. I think it would be best to divide the materials first.”
“You’re absolutely right. Let’s move quickly.”

Palentun and the Mirtan Village Chief called over the craftsmen, suggesting they divide the materials first.

Perhaps because the leaders got along well, the craftsmen of Mirtan Village and the dwarves of the Grey Hammer Guild, despite meeting for the first time, worked together as if they were old acquaintances, beginning the material classification work.

“Village Chief….”

Lunan Slion approached the Mirtan Village Chief, who was moving dragon bones and scales.

“Ah, Lunan. It’s been a while.”

The Village Chief apologized to Lunan for his late greeting and bowed his head.

“Thanks for the sword. I’m using it well.”

Lunan drew out Seolhwa and showed it to him, then nodded respectfully.

“That’s fortunate. You’ll be able to wield an even finer blade soon.”

The Village Chief laughed, saying one of those three master craftsmen would forge him a superior sword.

“I don’t want that.”

Lunan shook his head.

“Pardon?”
“I want you to make it for me, Village Chief.”

She said she didn’t want to abandon Seolhwa and asked him to refine it the way Raon’s Heavenly Sword had been enhanced.

“A-are you serious?”

The Mirtan Village Chief’s lips trembled as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Those masters would forge you a legendary blade without lifting a finger. You’re asking me instead?”
“Yes.”

Lunan nodded without the slightest hesitation.

“…Please reconsider. I have confidence in my own skills, but I’m not on their level.”

The Village Chief waved his hand, saying this wasn’t an opportunity that came twice.

“This suits me perfectly. It has the same materials as Raon’s sword.”

Lunan shook his head, explaining that Seolhwa was also a pair with Raon’s Heavenly Sword.

“A pair, you say….”

The Village Chief smiled faintly and nodded.

“Since the materials have been divided, I suppose that’s one way to look at it. I understand.”

I bit my lip as I gazed at the dragon bone in my hand.

“I’ll do my best to not fall behind those three.”

The Mirtan Village Chief received Seolhwa from Lunan Slion and nodded firmly. In his reddened eyes, I could sense a burning desire to pursue the Continental Master Craftsmen.

“Good. I’ll….”

The moment Dorian saw Lunan’s decision, he headed toward where the Grey Hammer Guild’s craftsmen were gathered.

“Hello!”
“What brings you here?”

Palentun lifted his gaze while holding a bone larger than his own body in his arms.

“I have a request for someone.”

Dorian approached Borgos’s Apprentice, who was moving dragon scales.

“You… are you referring to me?”

Borgos’s Apprentice blinked in surprise as he looked at Dorian.

“Please make me a sword again this time!”

Dorian stood before Borgos’s Apprentice and immediately bowed his head deeply.

“Ah….”

Borgos’s Apprentice’s mouth fell open in astonishment at Dorian’s proposal.

“No, my skills are really insufficient….”

He shook his head, saying he fell far short compared to the Mirtan Village Chief.

“That’s not true.”

Dorian caressed his sword with a faint smile.

“I’ve seen and wielded many blades over the years, but none have ever suited me quite like this one.”

He bowed deeply once more, requesting that I craft a sword tailored to him again.

“Your kind words inspire me to do my very best.”

Borgos’s Apprentice expressed his gratitude instead, accepting Dorian’s sword.

“Should I have mine refurbished as well?”

Martha licked her lips and drew her own blade.

“I don’t want to change it since Father gave it to me as a gift.”

She shook her head, insisting she wished to continue using the present Denier had given her directly.

“….”

I narrowed my eyes as I watched Martha clutch her sword so tenderly.

‘Now that I think about it, Denier wasn’t here today.’

He had gone on a mission and was nowhere to be seen, which left me uneasy and filled with a creeping sense of dread.

Until I knew for certain whether he was ally or enemy, I would continue to be haunted by this ominous feeling.

-Hey!

Wrath struck my shoulder hard.

-We’re not just going to keep waiting here, are we?
‘Of course we need to head back.’

I brushed away the ominous thoughts and offered a faint smile.

‘If I don’t leave now, my sister will beat me senseless.’

*

*

*

Raon left word for the blacksmith to contact him once the sword was complete, then returned to Zigheart.

—Damn it!

Wrath gnashed his teeth as he gazed at the darkened Annex Building.

—Coming back from that sweltering village! It’s well past evening now! I missed two proper meals!

He sniffled, lamenting that he’d skipped both lunch and dinner.

—By now everyone’s asleep, and there won’t be any food left….

Wrath rubbed his head frantically, desperate to avoid eating bread and water again.

‘You don’t even need to eat.’

As I opened the Annex Building’s door with a smile, the rich aromas of various dishes wafted out, making my mouth water involuntarily.

“We heard you were coming and have been preparing. Your timing is perfect, isn’t it?”

Helen, who had been carrying dishes from the kitchen, waved with a bright smile.

“Raon’s here?”
“Son. Your punctuality is impeccable!”

Sylvia and Edgar emerged from the Dining Hall, waving their hands.

“Raon!”

Sia burst out from between them and threw her arms around me.

“Why are you so late!”

She pouted, complaining that there had been continuous thunder sounds coming from her belly.

“I’m sorry.”

I coaxed Sia and patted her back gently.

“Let’s hurry! Mom and my sisters have already prepared all the food!”

Led by Sia’s hand into the Dining Hall, I found the table overflowing with dishes still steaming hot.

-What, what is this? It’s night, so why are we having dinner now…?

Wrath’s eyes widened in confusion at why dinner was being served at such a late hour.

‘I asked Yua to prepare dinner a bit later today.’

I waved at Yua standing behind the table.

‘Though I didn’t expect it to be prepared this lavishly.’
-Huh…?

Wrath’s pupils trembled, as if he hadn’t expected such preparations.

-You, you made such preparations?
“I also brought pearl ice cream. Please enjoy it after your meal.”

Helen waved her hand, mentioning she had selected various flavors.

-Pearl, pearl ice cream too?
‘I promised, after all.’
-Kugh…!

Wrath wiped his tears with his round fist and nodded vigorously.

-You’ve finally come to your senses!

He nodded emphatically, moved with emotion.

-Excellent! Now I shall accept you as one of the Demon Race!

Wrath stretched out his arm as if urging me to come closer.

‘That’s completely unnecessary….’

I exhaled a long sigh. Wrath still seemed to be under a serious misunderstanding.

*

*

*

Four days later.

I stepped out of the Annex Building wearing formal attire with a deep crimson hue.

“Where are you going?”

Sia, who had been wielding her sword before Edgar and Sylvia, tilted her head curiously.

“There’s a meeting.”
“A meeting?”
“Yes. Important people gathering in one place.”

I waved my hand to Sia, who approached me with quick, eager steps.

“A grand assembly?”
“A sudden meeting… I wonder what it’s about.”

Edgar and Sylvia furrowed their brows with concern.

“I’m not sure what it’s about either, but it seems to be something important.”

Two days ago, I received notice to attend a meeting at noon today, and since all the executives of Zigheart would be gathering, it appeared to be a significant matter.

-Tsk!

Wrath clicked his tongue from where he perched on my shoulder.

This was supposed to be prime time for exploring restaurants! It’s a shame, but I guess I’ll have to eat at the old man’s place today.

Despite my words of regret, I smacked my lips together eagerly in anticipation.
From fine cuisine to street snacks, there wasn’t a single food I disliked. I honestly couldn’t fathom why I’d become the Lord of Wrath instead of the Lord of Gluttony.

“Should I come too?”

Sia tilted her head, clearly wanting to join me.

“It’ll be boring. You’ll just have to sit still.”
“Ugh, then I don’t want to….”
“Let’s play when I get back.”

I told Sia we’d play together and gently stroked her hair.

“Don’t worry about things here. Just focus on your work.”
“Right. We’ll keep an eye on Sia.”

Sylvia waved her hand with a smile, and Edgar chuckled while scratching his head. Just watching them warmed my heart. Now it felt like a truly happy home without a single wrinkle of worry.

“Then I’ll be going.”

I left the Annex Building with a faint smile and headed toward the Main Mansion.

On the way to the Patriarch’s Hall, I encountered many swordsmen, all of whom bowed their heads with tense, reverent eyes.

—Hmm….

Wrath nodded briefly as he observed the swordsmen bowing deeply.

—In the past, he only received curses. He’s grown considerably. Now he finally possesses the audacity befitting the True Demon King’s vessel.

He nodded approvingly, pleased with what he saw.

‘You still haven’t given up?’

I tilted my head as I observed Wrath’s solemn expression.

—The True Demon King knows no surrender! Whenever the time comes, I shall devour your flesh and claim this body as my own!

Wrath shook his head, saying he couldn’t simply abandon the stats and traits he’d devoted to his physical body.

‘Yet lately, he hasn’t even provoked me or attacked…’
-Silence, you fool! The True Demon King bides his time! A cheetah! Yes, like a cheetah charging from behind, catching up even when….
‘I see, Your Majesty.’

Raon entered the Patriarch’s Hall while teasing Wrath.

Creak.

The iron doors of the Audience Chamber—imposing enough to inspire tension merely by sight—stood wide open, and within, the executives had arranged themselves in neat formation.

As befitted a grand council, even the rarely-seen executives and the Elder Council’s veteran swordmasters occupied seats, making the vast Audience Chamber feel completely filled.

“Hey there, nephew!”

Valdemar, leaning his back against a pillar, raised his voice in a booming call.

“….”

Karun stood with arms crossed and eyes closed, as if utterly uninterested.

“Come over here!”

Valdemar beckoned with a finger, gesturing for him to stand beside him.

“My apologies, but that’s not yet my place to occupy.”

Raon shook his head, explaining he couldn’t take the patriarch’s seat.

“Hmm, surely that’s not the case anymore?”

Valdemar smacked his lips, suggesting it would be fine to come early.

“It’s still too soon.”

He politely declined and took his usual position, waiting for Glen to appear.

When all the executives who weren’t away on missions had entered the Audience Chamber, the inner door opened and Glen, Roen, and Sheryl emerged.

“Greetings to the Head of House!”

Following Karun’s salute, the executives in the Audience Chamber knelt and bowed their heads.

“….”

Glen Zigheart, unlike usual, did not tell them to rise. Instead, he ascended the platform with heavy, deliberate steps.
Rather than sitting upon the Jade Throne, he stood at the edge of the platform and tilted his chin slightly.

“Rise.”
“Yes!”

Only after his quiet command echoed through the chamber did the executives lift their heads and straighten their spines.
Their faces bore a tension distinctly different from their usual composure.

A low, resonant aura filled the air.

Glen Zigheart radiated an overwhelming presence that seemed to press down upon the shoulders of those before him, as though he had returned to those days twenty years past when he wielded nothing but cold ruthlessness.

“The agenda for this council meeting is….”

His dry gaze turned toward Raon, who stood to his right.

“The promotion of the Gwangpung Corps.”

He lowered his chin, indicating this was the most critical matter on today’s agenda.

“Pardon…?”

Raon’s eyes widened as he looked at Glen Zigheart. He had sensed the importance of the matter, but it had never occurred to him that it would concern himself.

“I shall elaborate on the details.”

Chad, who stood beneath Glen Zigheart, bowed respectfully.

“Since ascending to transcendence, the Master of the Gwangpung Corps has dismantled the schemes of Derus Robert, rescued Aris Zigheart, and repelled the assault of ancient dragons in Sepia….”

Chad proceeded to enumerate, one by one, the achievements that Raon and the Gwangpung Corps had accomplished.

“…Therefore, the Bi-Yeon Society acknowledges that the Gwangpung Corps has accumulated sufficient achievements to warrant promotion to the Gwangpung Hall.”

He nodded calmly, stating these were accomplishments no one could deny.

“Should anyone wish to voice opposition, please raise your hand.”

Chad gestured for dissenters to raise their hands, bobbing his head slightly.

“Hmm.”
“It does seem rather swift….”
“There’s no reason to object.”
“If anything, by their track record, it’s overdue.”

Not a single executive raised their hand. Most wore expressions suggesting this outcome was inevitable.

“With no objections, we shall proceed….”
“I object.”

At the cold voice, all eyes turned toward the right end of the hall. Karun’s hand was raised, standing by the pillar nearest the platform.

“Karun…?”

Glen’s eyebrows furrowed deeply in disbelief.

“Have you finally lost your mind? You’re the one who called this meeting!”

Valdemar’s finger spiraled across Karun’s forehead as his own brow creased deeply.

“Did you develop dementia in the meantime?!”

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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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