The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 95
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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 95
“My lady. I… I can’t watch.”
Helen couldn’t open her eyes before the duel even began. The thought of Raon, whom she had raised like a son since birth, facing off against Rayden—a man notorious for his brutal swordsmanship—left her breathless with tension.
“You have to watch anyway.”
Unlike Helen, Sylvia kept her eyes wide open, fixed upon Raon.
“That boy is fighting for us, after all.”
Helen cracked her eyes open slightly. Raon stood in the center of the Training Ground, warming up his body. His familiar composure eased her tension a little.
“Sigh… I’m still trembling. How are you so calm, my lady…?”
She turned to look at Sylvia and her eyes widened. Sylvia’s hands were shaking so violently that the railing trembled beneath them.
“My lady…”
Helen barely held back tears welling up in her eyes. Sylvia was more anxious and trembling than she was, yet desperately trying not to show it.
Knowing the hardships of her difficult childhood, Helen felt both pride and heartache wash over her.
‘When will she finally find happiness…?’
Both Sylvia and Raon were unbearable to watch. If only she had the power, she would have taken them both far away from this place.
“It will be fine.”
Judith turned her calm gaze toward the two of them.
“The young master has prepared day and night against Rayden’s continuous sword technique. He will surely show everyone here something that will astound them.”
“If… if that’s the case, there’s nothing more to wish for…”
“That’s right, Helen. Let’s think that way. Thank you.”
Sylvia sent a grateful nod toward Judith.
“Come, hold hands. Your hands.”
“Pardon?”
“Hold hands and pray for Raon to win.”
Sylvia took Helen’s hand first. Helen, looking bewildered, grasped Judith’s hand beside her. Soon, all the maids of the Annex Building were holding each other’s hands.
“Hmm….”
Judith shook her head, feeling the trembling, sweat-dampened hands of Helen and the other maid.
‘There’s truly no need to worry at all.’
Raon is a monster.
Compared to the countless powerhouses I’ve encountered thus far, his martial prowess is certainly weaker. But his very essence is different.
Those two eyes I saw that night—I could never forget them in a lifetime. Even now, remembering the terror and killing intent that dominated the space sends chills down my spine.
He is the real thing.
He was not someone who could lose to such a brutish fake, no matter how much he might wish it.
As Judith was lost in thought about that day when she witnessed Raon’s true nature, the announcer declared the duel’s beginning.
“Hah!”
Sylvia’s grip on the hand beside her tightened.
Boom!
From the moment it began, Rayden displayed a dazzling swordsmanship so brilliant it hurt the eyes. That sharpness and kaleidoscopic variation reached even this distant vantage point.
In stark contrast to that brilliance, Raon employed an honest, straightforward flowing sword technique, his footwork steady and grounded.
His form appeared precarious, like a petal adrift within a tempest.
“Hmm….”
“Ah….”
Sylvia and Helen’s hands trembled uncontrollably.
‘You’re all mistaken.’
Judith licked her lips. Raon’s gaze was the same as it had been when he crushed her beneath his heel. He remained utterly unflustered.
A thunderous roar erupted!
Rayden showcased an ornate sword strike with obvious pride. Just as the blade energy, twisted like rose vines, was about to engulf Raon, he stepped into the Garam Footwork.
It was a fundamental technique that even he should have known, yet Raon evaded that sharp and intricate swordplay, raising his blade toward Rayden’s right side.
Rayden seemed oblivious, his gaze fixed forward as he left his neck completely exposed.
“I won! I won! My lady!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
Helen and the handmaidens erupted in cheers at the sight of Raon’s blade pressed against Rayden’s throat.
“Sigh…”
Sylvia gripped the railing and exhaled deeply. She seemed relieved that the match had ended with Raon unharmed, more than pleased about the victory itself.
“Ha…”
Judith let out a hollow laugh. She had known he would win, but she never expected it to be this simple, this effortless.
‘Truly remarkable… wait?’
As she was marveling, Raon lowered his sword and struck Rayden’s mouth with his fist.
Rayden was sent flying backward, blood streaming from his lips, yet his overall strength seemed unchanged. If anything, his aura flared up like flames, ignited by rage.
“Why, why on earth!”
Sylvia cried out. The match had ended overwhelmingly, yet she couldn’t fathom why he had released him.
Rayden twisted his wrist. The flexible blade writhed like a serpent, shooting toward Raon’s heart.
Raon stepped back into the Garam Footwork, but Rayden’s flexible blade pursued him relentlessly, as if bound by a tracking spell.
Rayden’s blade writhed toward my heart, yet my expression remained serene. Like a lotus floating upon water, I drifted to his left side.
Crack!
I pressed my sword against Rayden’s neck once more. This time, I struck his cheek.
The second time. I had the power to end this, yet I released Rayden a second time.
Now Rayden’s eyes blazed with the fury of a raging beast as he swung his blade with renewed ferocity. I remained unchanged—serene, evading his strikes, and subduing him from the front.
Thud!
I kicked Rayden’s face with such force that the sound echoed through the Spectator Stands.
Helen bit her lip. Now she understood why I had released Rayden.
‘He’s taking revenge for us.’
I was methodically repaying every transgression Rayden had committed since arriving at the Annex Building.
The first strike to his mouth was for the false letter he claimed to have sent. The second blow to his face was for spitting. This last kick was the price for trampling the flowers.
“Ah….”
An overwhelming emotion pierced through her chest.
In Zigheart, blood is power. Sylvia was the only one who treated them with proper respect, despite being neither direct descendants nor even members of the Branch Family.
Only after she left did he realize that harsh reality. She was the only one who treated the handmaidens as human beings in this cold land.
But now there was one more. Raon, Sylvia’s son and someone who had been with her since birth.
He was fighting against the direct line for us and was smashing them to pieces.
I couldn’t hold back the tears that flowed down as Raon’s feelings reached me.
“Hmm…”
Helen turned her head at the sound of a suppressed sob. The other maids, understanding Raon’s intentions, were all shedding tears.
They shared the same emotion—moved to tears by someone who was caring for them for the first time.
And Sylvia watched Raon with her lips pressed firmly together, her face radiating pride. It was the confident expression of the woman she had been before losing her aura and swordsmanship.
Yet Sylvia felt far greater emotion than Helen could perceive.
Since birth, no one had ever truly seen her. She had lived cowed and diminished, treated as though she didn’t exist despite being of the direct line.
Crushed beneath the weight of her father, her siblings, and the family itself, she could barely breathe.
So she had chosen severance. She had abandoned the family and seized freedom.
‘But.’
That was not the answer. Here, in this harsh land, one had to overcome through strength.
And now her own son, Raon, was telling her this.
A child born weaker than anyone, yet now possessing a stronger spirit than anyone—he showed her through his back that one must fight to the end, never allowing oneself to be looked down upon, regardless of the opponent.
“Raon….”
Sylvia clenched her fists as surging emotion welled up within her.
*
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Crunch.
Valdemar ground his teeth as he looked down upon the Training Ground.
“How did this happen.”
He had believed the duel’s outcome was already decided—Rayden’s victory was certain.
It wasn’t just his thought. More than ninety percent of those in the Training Ground must have predicted Rayden’s overwhelming triumph.
But when I lifted the lid, reality unfolded in a way entirely different from my expectations.
Rayden was being beaten one-sidedly by Raon. By Raon, who was using only lower-tier swordsmanship and lower-tier footwork.
If Raon had merely wished it, the battle would have ended at their first clash. The gap between them was that overwhelming.
Whoooosh!
Raon had just used the Yeonseong Swordsmanship and Garam Footwork as they were, shattering the final technique of the Crystalline Consecutive Sword that Rayden had unleashed.
“That madman….”
Valdemar let out an involuntary gasp. Even watching it directly, I couldn’t believe it. Raon Zigheart had infused the true essence of Yeonseong Swordsmanship into his blade.
The true essence of swordsmanship meant embedding one’s own will into the sword itself. It was a realm that could only be attempted at Expert rank or higher.
‘Yet that bastard….’
He had achieved it as someone who had barely entered the Expert rank, and at just fifteen years old. It felt like a dream. A terrible nightmare, at that.
Rayden, whose sanity had already half-fled, could never pierce through Raon’s blade. This duel was already decided. The exact opposite of what I had anticipated.
‘A genius. No, he’s transcended even that level.’
The Continent is vast, and geniuses are commonplace.
Not just in Zigheart, but even in small martial organizations, there is always someone called a genius.
The Raon before me now could not be explained by such a word. A monster that devours geniuses and grows. A demon that would wield a blade at the pinnacle of the Continent.
‘A Branch Family member!’
Even if he was Sylvia’s son, the thought that a lowborn bastard of unknown origin could defeat my own son filled me with overwhelming rage.
“That bastard….”
“Wow! This is insane!”
Just as I was about to rally my momentum, a crude and tasteless shout erupted from beside me. It was Rimer.
“A complete turnaround!”
He waved the papers in his hands wildly, letting out a triumphant shout.
“Quiet!”
“Oh? My apologies.”
Rimer scratched his head and bowed, though his eyes gleamed with the savage intensity of a warrior before battle.
“I told you so. Raon would win.”
He approached Valdemar’s side with a smirk.
“I’ll need quite a bit of money and time to prepare the betting compensation. Well, even setting that aside, I’ve made a tidy sum.”
Rimer chuckled and gestured to the papers in his hand—betting slips collected from all around.
“I told you to be quiet.”
Valdemar’s demeanor shifted, becoming sharp as a honed blade. He looked ready to lunge at any moment.
“Since the results are in, I’ll say one thing and be on my way.”
Rimer stepped directly in front of Valdemar and stopped.
“From this point forward, many eyes will be watching Raon. Unless you’re confident you can evade all those gazes, don’t touch Raon or the Annex Building.”
“You insolent bastard….”
Valdemar’s expression twisted. Rimer’s eyes hadn’t changed one bit from when he was called the Radiant Sword. They gleamed with the ferocity of a father wolf protecting its cub.
“Fear the Patriarch instead. You know well how much he despises broken promises.”
He extinguished his menacing aura in an instant, transforming into a carefree libertine as he departed.
‘That bastard’s right.’
If I fail to eliminate Raon decisively today, it becomes far more difficult to touch him or the Annex Building.
‘And….’
His two sons and other direct nephews would be crushed beneath Raon’s shadow. That man was a threat of that magnitude.
-Rayden!
Valdemar covertly fired aura to send a message to Rayden.
-Forget about adaptation and sharpness! Use raw power! Smash through with brute force! Fight using your advantage!
He conveyed a hint that could help Rayden defeat Raon. It might certainly become a problem later, but winning came first.
‘Break him! I’ll handle the rest somehow!’
*
*
*
‘Hmm?’
I narrowed my eyes slightly. Rayden, whom I thought had given up, suddenly tensed and began rising to his feet.
Unlike before, he didn’t scatter his aura widely. Instead, he wrapped it around the entire blade as if wielding an ordinary sword.
‘I see.’
The Ring of Fire had just detected a faint aura leaking from the Spectator Stands. I thought it was nothing, but it seemed Valdemar had told Rayden how to defeat him.
‘Like father, like son.’
I turned to look at Valdemar, who was feigning innocence in the stands.
A duel is a contest where two swordsmen pit their pride and martial prowess against each other.
Yet he showed no shame in interfering with that sacred confrontation. His gaze burned with the arrogance of a direct descendant, a son of Glen—as if daring me to do something about it.
“Hgh…”
Rayden’s eyes blazed with the same defiant fire as the distant Valdemar. Following the advice given, he drew every last drop of aura from his core and concentrated it into his blade.
A roaring sound erupted.
He adopted a standard cutting stance rather than a Crystalline Sword technique, his gaze fixed upon me. From his appearance, Valdemar’s crude interference had certainly proven effective.
“That’s right. It should have been this way from the start.”
Rayden spat out blood-tinged saliva and bared his teeth. His sword aura surged upright, igniting an intense blade energy.
“I should have subdued you from the beginning using my most advantageous method!”
His words held truth. The magnitude of Rayden’s aura far exceeded my own.
‘However.’
Just as overwhelming swordsmanship alone does not determine victory, the quantity of aura does not decide the outcome.
“Do you believe you can win through sheer power?”
“Of course! I’ll tear apart that pathetic aura of yours!”
Rayden kicked off the ground and brought his sword crashing down. A devastating blade strike capable of splitting the earth itself descended upon me.
A sharp metallic ring.
I caught the blade with my sword. Tiny sparks blooming from the sword’s edge multiplied into a torrent of flames.
A thunderous clash resounded.
The flame-wreathed blade that melted the very air collided head-on with the sword aura wrapped in verdant green.
“Ugh!”
Rayden clenched his teeth. The impact sent his insides reeling. He couldn’t comprehend how merely increasing the flames could produce such devastating power.
“How are you….”
“This isn’t over yet.”
My eyes burned as fiercely red as my sword blade.
Ten Strikes of the Crimson Blade.
Continuous Flash.
The dance of the crimson flower, racing along the blade’s edge, incinerated Rayden’s aura and pierced through his chain sword.
Crash!
The chain sword crumbled like sand, and Rayden’s eyes bulged as if they might burst from their sockets.
“No, this can’t be!”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Rayden retreated backward as if fleeing, but I was faster.
“Wait, just a moment! I’ve already lost—”
“You still have two more rounds.”
I drove my fist, still gripping the sword, straight into Rayden’s mouth.
“Guh—”
Rayden’s teeth scattered like corn kernels, and he toppled backward with his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Consider the rest settled.”
I brushed off my sword. As the flames extinguished from its blade, the entire Training Ground fell into silence.
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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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