The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 952

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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 952

Whoooosh.

I lowered my hand gripping the Heavenly Sword as I observed the black mist spreading outward around me.

‘I don’t sense any malevolent energy.’

Though the pitch-black mist obscured my vision, there was no malice emanating from it. This too seemed to be an arrangement by the First Patriarch.

‘Then that means I’ve passed the first trial.’

During our sparring match, the First Patriarch had remained expressionless, repeatedly demonstrating only the swordsmanship of Manhwagong.

The man who had moved like a machine smiled with satisfaction and nodded his head, so it seemed certain that I had passed his first trial.

‘That’s right. I think I’ve been too absorbed in the Ten Thousand Sword Technique lately.’

The Ten Thousand Sword Technique was certainly the supreme method of training that could place all swordsmanship in the world beneath my feet. But mastering the Ten Thousand Sword Technique didn’t make me invincible.

‘I should have thought of the Ten Thousand Sword Technique as merely one ingredient in the recipe of swordsmanship, but instead I made the entire dish itself into the Ten Thousand Sword Technique.’

Each sword technique has a recipe set by its founder. Adding just a small amount of new ingredients could create a special flavor, but adding large quantities of different ingredients would fundamentally change the dish itself.

‘Grandfather might be able to manage it. But it was too much for me.’

Arrogant in my belief that I was training in true Ten Thousand Sword Technique, I had added massive amounts of subtlety to already perfected sword techniques, tainting the original color they possessed. It was a foolish act that erased both the power and flow of the martial art.

The First Patriarch seemed to have prepared the first trial to give me enlightenment about that foolish thinking.

‘Without the First Patriarch, I wouldn’t have been able to learn this so quickly.’

In this entire world, I was the only one who had learned the swordsmanship of Manhwagong. The First Patriarch, having mastered the same sword technique, had done something that even Glen couldn’t do—he had guided me as a fellow martial artist. Without him, it would have taken at least several months to break this habit.

‘But…’

I narrowed my eyes to thin slits as I watched the black mist slowly begin to settle.

‘What’s the next trial?’

I had a feeling the First Patriarch’s test wouldn’t end with just one trial. There was certainly something else waiting for me.

‘I hope the next one is more straightforward.’

As I lifted my gaze upward while pondering what the next trial might be, the acrid stench of charred flesh and the damp scent of blood seeped into my nostrils.

Whoooosh!

The moment I narrowed my eyes at the thick smell of blood, the black fog receded like a curtain being drawn back from a stage.

‘What is this…’

An enormous city that appeared to be a kingdom was engulfed entirely in crimson flames. Countless people, drained of life, were consumed by the inferno, and the blood flowing from their corpses became rivers that drenched the main streets.

‘A battlefield? No. This situation is…’

A massacre.

The kingdom’s citizens, unable to mount any proper resistance, bore a dark terror in their lifeless eyes even in death. They had been slaughtered one-sidedly without even a chance to flee.

‘How is it possible to destroy such a massive kingdom so completely one-sided?’

Among the dead were Grand Master-level warriors and mages, yet the overwhelming disparity in power sent chills racing down my spine.

‘A thousand years ago…’

To my knowledge, no such kingdom existed, and I had no record of such a war. This appeared to be a war from a thousand years ago that remained in the First Patriarch’s memories.

‘Were those creatures the ones who attacked?’

I could see monsters destroying the buildings of the Royal Capital and tearing apart humans. I recognized some of them—orcs, trolls, ogres—creatures I often encountered, but something about them was different from what I knew.

‘Demonic Energy? They’re using Demonic Energy?’

Demonic Energy was an aura used by monsters.

Only monsters born as royalty, those with exceptional talent, or those who had lived for countless ages could possess this special power called Demonic Energy, yet every monster before my eyes was using it to slaughter the people.

‘How is this possible?’

Since the history of a thousand years ago was not recorded, historians had proposed the hypothesis that humanity’s military strength was weak at that time, and they had no choice but to be overwhelmed by Monsters and Demon Dragons.

But seeing the actual situation, it wasn’t that humans were weak—it was that Monsters were strong.

Even seasoned soldiers struggled against the lowest-tier Monsters like Goblins and Kobolds, and Knights wielding aura were overpowered by Orcs’ brute strength, their bodies severed at the torso along with their armor.

‘Is this truly the age of Demon Dragons…?’

It was far too distant a past, and with so little record remaining, there were no shortage of people in the present era who dismissed Demon Dragons—I wished I could show them this sight.

‘Now I understand why Eden wishes to return to this era.’

Eden itself was stronger than anyone, so I had wondered why they yearned for this age, but now I saw the reason. The caliber of the Monsters themselves was on an entirely different level.

‘Wait…’

There aren’t only Monsters here.

Looking closer, I noticed people clad in black martial robes interspersed among the blood-drenched Monsters. They appeared to be controlling the Monsters, strategically dismantling the Kingdom’s defensive lines.

‘This is disorienting.’

Having suddenly arrived at a battlefield from a thousand years ago, I had no idea what to do.

‘There’s nothing I can accomplish here…’

Right now, I was in a state where I couldn’t interfere with this world, much like Wrath in his spiritual form. Especially since this was already a past that had transpired, even with a physical body, I couldn’t stop this war. I couldn’t fathom why the First Patriarch had sent me to this battlefield.

‘Is this meant for me to simply observe the battle?’

As I walked deeper into the Kingdom, a Burned Man with severe burns covering his entire right side came rushing toward me. His hands and knuckles were covered in blisters from constantly touching something hot.

“P-Please, Swordmaster! Save me!”

He ran toward me, crying out desperately for help.

‘Who is he talking to…? Wait, can he see me?’

I glanced back just in case, but there was no one there. That Burned Man seemed to be the only one who could see me.

“Please!”

The moment the Burned Man knelt, my spirit form solidified into flesh, manifesting on this hellish battlefield. The sensation of floating in empty space vanished, replaced by the weight of my feet pressing against the ground.

“My wife and children are inside! Please, save them!”

The Burned Man pointed to a small house engulfed in flames. The neighboring buildings had collapsed, blocking all the windows and doors, trapping those inside with no way to escape.

‘So that’s how he got those burns.’

The man raised his blistered hands, tears streaming down his face. It was clear he had suffered those terrible burns by throwing himself into the fire to save his wife and children.

“…Wait here.”

I nodded and rushed toward the collapsing building. Tearing away the burning wall, I found two children and a middle-aged woman inside, gasping and choking from the heat and smoke.

‘There’s still time.’

Fortunately, all three still had breath in them. I used my aura to purge the toxic fumes from their bodies, then brought them back to the Burned Man.

“Thank you! Thank you so much…!”

The Burned Man cried out his gratitude and pressed his forehead to the ground. Then, as if his strength had finally given out, he collapsed to the side.

“Run far from here.”

I gestured to them with a quiet voice, urging them to flee.

‘It’s probably pointless, though.’

This world is already the past. Here, I saved them, but in the actual timeline, the building likely collapsed and they all perished.

‘This leaves a bitter taste.’

As I bit my tongue at the sourness of it all, a Purple-Robed Mage descended from the empty air.

“There you are. You’re always the same, aren’t you?”

The woman smiled as she looked at the people she had saved. Her eyes held a familiarity, as if she knew me well.

‘This person….’

She was not someone I was seeing for the first time. She was definitely the mage who had been a companion of the First Patriarch—the one I had seen in the Underwater Cave and at the Holy Sword Association. As expected, this memory belonged to the First Patriarch.

“I found him. Let’s go.”

The Purple-Robed Mage told me to follow and flew toward the half-destroyed Royal Palace.

‘Hmm….’

Raon furrowed his brow slightly as he chased after the Purple-Robed Mage.

‘Does she think I’m the First Patriarch?’

Based on the Purple-Robed Mage’s reaction, it seemed I had manifested in this world through the First Patriarch’s body.

‘Then….’

I glanced back. I smiled as I watched the man wake his unconscious wife and children and flee.

‘So the First Patriarch also saved those people.’

It seemed the First Patriarch and I shared quite a few similarities.

Thud thud.

Raon felt a small sense of relief as he entered the Royal Castle, which trembled as if it might collapse.

Roooaaarrr!

The interior of the Royal Castle was engulfed in flames, and knights and soldiers were fighting monsters that had invaded inside. The knights in the castle were skilled, but there were so many monsters using aura that they were being pushed back.

“We can’t. This isn’t the time to deal with small fry.”

The Purple-Robed Mage cried out that she had no time to help others and waved her hand urgently for me to hurry.

‘It seems there’s an entity in the Audience Chamber that I need to fight.’

Raon nodded calmly and followed the Mages into the inner chamber of the Royal Palace.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The ceiling of the Audience Chamber, erected high to praise the King, shattered as if a meteorite had fallen, and the golden pillars symbolizing the knights’ loyalty crumbled like dried autumn leaves.

Roooar!

In blood deeper than the crimson carpet, a Transcendent who appeared to be the Captain of Royal Guard lay dead, and the middle-aged man who seemed to be this kingdom’s King crawled across the floor, impaled on a saw-toothed blade.

“Why did you come so quickly…?”

The King offered a faint smile as he looked at me.

“Do not concern yourself with me. Save the others, I beg you…”

He waved his blood-soaked hand, urging me to forget about him and save the others instead.

‘That man…’

He is no warrior.

This middle-aged man who appeared to be the King possessed not a single drop of aura. It was astounding that someone with no tolerance for pain could smile despite such grievous wounds.

I did not know what kind of person this King was, nor did I harbor any feelings toward this kingdom, but revulsion welled up within me toward those who had created this hellscape.

“Did you do this?”

I turned my gaze to the right, toward the blood-soaked Jade Throne. The man sitting arrogantly atop the severed throne slowly lifted his head.

‘His eyes…’

His right eye was an ordinary black iris, but his left eye had inverted pupils—black where white should be, white where black should be.

‘Anima…’

The Sword Saint had warned me to be cautious, and this creature appeared in the First Patriarch’s memories—the Strange Being Anima, bearing eyes of inverted black and white. A profoundly dangerous aura emanated from him.

“He is Parrel, that creature’s subordinate. We must kill him here before the corruption spreads further.”

The Purple-Robed Mage bit her lip, thinking she needed to kill Anima right now.

“Who is that… person?”

I tried to ask the Purple-Robed Mage a question, but she remained motionless like a statue.

No, it wasn’t just her. The blood flowing from the King’s wound had stopped, and the screams and sounds of clashing blades from outside had faded away. It was as if time itself had frozen.

Thud.

Only Parrel, the one-eyed Anima, seemed unbound by time’s constraints as he walked down from the platform with natural ease.

‘Now I understand.’

I clicked my tongue softly as I watched Parrel.

‘Defeating that creature must be the second trial.’

Given that he had frozen time, it seemed everything up until now had merely been a vision of the past. Defeating this Parrel appeared to be the second trial.

“So it’s you lot.”

Parrel drew a cold smile as he pulled the jagged blade free from the King’s body.

“I’ll make sure to kill you so you can never interfere with us again.”

He carved a sinister smile across his face and kicked off the ground.

Whoooosh!

Before I could even feel the violent wind, Parrel’s jagged blade was already descending toward my throat.

‘Fast.’

The attack came in an instant—faster than even the maximum speed of Tae Hwa Bo.

Clang!

I drew Red Crimson and deflected the Anima’s descending blade.

‘Pushed back?’

Even with my physical abilities restored, I was being overpowered in raw strength. This Parrel didn’t seem human at all.

‘No, wait—are these Anima not human to begin with?’

Just looking at those chilling eyes was enough to tell me that Anima were fundamentally different from humans.

“Your blade is far too light,” Anima sneered at the fallen Captain of Royal Guard, bringing his serrated sword down in a vicious arc that carved past my shoulder.

‘Red Flash?’

Did he just use Red Flash?

I wasn’t mistaken. Parrel had just replicated my Red Flash exactly. No—not exactly. He’d executed it even more powerfully.

“Still, your blade has some merit. Refreshing, even.”

“Still, your sword has improved a bit. It’s pretty refreshing in its own way.”
I traced the familiar Revolving Heaven with practiced precision, aiming for Parrel’s throat.

Whoooooosh!

Parrel’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as he drew his own Revolving Heaven—faster and more powerful than mine.

Crash!

The two Revolving Heavens collided, sending crimson sparks cascading across the crumbling ceiling of the Audience Chamber.

‘Hmm…’

I narrowed my eyes, studying Parrel’s Revolving Heaven as it pressed forward with overwhelming force.

‘Is it even possible for him to replicate my martial arts and make them stronger?’

To test my suspicion, I unleashed not a basic technique, but the Manhwagong’s secret art—Flawless Flame Harmony.

Just in case, I unfolded the comic book season, Yeomhae-mulgyeol, rather than the basics.

Whoooooosh!

A wave of crimson flames surged forth, engulfing Parrel’s entire body.

“This is quite impressive.”

Parrel grinned with satisfaction and pointed the tip of his serrated blade downward at the ground. Flames streamed from his sword, and an even larger Infernal Tide erupted upward.

Boom boom boom boom boom!

Flame clashed against flame as a tremendous explosion tore through every wall of the Audience Chamber.

‘He’s copying even the Infernal Tide?’

I was driven backward, my teeth clenched.

‘This is absurd.’

Unlike Red Island and Heavenly Rotation, the Infernal Tide was one of Manhwagong’s supreme techniques. The fact that he could instantly replicate this complex and intricate swordsmanship with even greater power was staggering.

“Show me more of your blade!”

Parrel licked his lips with keen interest, his chin tilting slightly.

“Very well.”

I twisted my lips and aimed the Heavenly Sword at Parrel.

“I’ll cut until you exceed your capacity.”

Determined to pierce through this mirror-like opponent, I kicked off the ground.

*

*

*

Claaaaaang!

I deflected Parrel’s blade and bit my lip.

‘Everything is being blocked….’

Was this even possible?

Parrel had replicated every sword technique I displayed—from the Manhwagong’s foundational methods to the Raon Zigheart style I had created myself.

‘What kind of ability does he possess?’

Parrel wasn’t simply copying my swordplay; he returned it with greater force and speed. This was beyond human capability. It had to be some form of divine power.

‘Did the First Patriarch defeat someone like this?’

Judging by the fact that he remained unscathed in the distant future, it seemed he had broken Parrel without excessive effort. Truly, he was a remarkable man.

“Your sword techniques are all quite pleasing to me.”

Parrel unfolded successive frost-edge strikes, slashing at my forearm. They were faster and sharper than my own, making them difficult to block.

“Show me more! Dazzling, brilliant techniques!”

He pressed forward with excitement, unleashing countless sword techniques. His physical abilities surpassed mine, his aura was superior in both quantity and quality, and his swordplay itself was formidable—it was not easy to contend with him.

‘What should I do?’

My opponent was a monster capable of replicating my techniques with even greater power. In a sense, it was an extension of the first trial.

‘The insight I gained from the first trial was that there are times when one must empty oneself.’

Through my sparring with the First Patriarch, I had learned that filling the vessel of swordplay beyond its capacity with subtle techniques only weakened it. This trial was surely similar.

“More! Bring everything you have!”

Parrel unfolded successive techniques from the Heavenly Bow Sword, creating overwhelming pressure that constricted my body. The weight generated by the blade made even moving my fingertips difficult.

‘He is certainly stronger than me. But….’

The First Patriarch would never create a trial that he could not overcome.

‘Think.’

I resonated the Ring of Fire with extreme polarity. I focused on defense while observing Parrel’s swordsmanship as he unfolded it.

Ching!

Even as my entire body accumulated wounds, continuing to observe Parrel’s swordsmanship, I felt something… natural about it.

‘My swordsmanship is unfolding more powerfully, yet it feels natural?’

Was such a thing even possible?

I refocused my mind and observed the Enemy Sword that Parrel was displaying. Fast yet powerful and precise—his swordsmanship contained a unique subtlety all his own.

‘He filled it.’

This man Parrel had infused his own swordsmanship subtlety into the Enemy Sword, a technique that harmonized powerful strikes, swift strikes, and precise strikes. And he did so in a manner perfectly suited to the Enemy Sword’s capacity. It seemed to be both an authority and a realm of sensation.

‘That’s right. If you empty it, you must fill it.’

Through the first trial, I had learned that excessive subtlety corrupts a technique’s inherent power.

Yet continuing to rely solely on a technique’s fundamental subtlety was a disadvantage for a swordmaster who had mastered ten thousand techniques.

Rather than clumsily filling it with quantity, I needed to infuse only the subtlety suited to that technique and advance one step beyond perfection.

‘Enemy Sword.’

The Enemy Sword was fast, powerful, and precise. I infused the subtlety of the Prediction Technique, which harmonized most naturally with those three qualities.
I wove them together seamlessly so they would not interfere with one another.

“That won’t work. Bring forth a new technique!”

Parrel scoffed dismissively and brought the Enemy Sword down.

Crash!

As the Enemy Swords collided, a tremendous shockwave erupted in all directions.
The Royal Palace pillars shattered completely, and dark cracks spider-webbed across the floor.

“Look at that. Your swordsmanship has already fallen to me….”

Parrel, confident in his victory, widened his eyes as he saw my Red Sword pierce through his aura.

Crash!

My Red Sword shattered Parrel’s blade strike and carved a long wound across his chest.

“So that’s how it works.”

I curled my lips as I gazed at the Heavenly Sword burning with vivid flames.

‘This was the true way to wield the Ten Thousand Swords.’

Mastering the Ten Thousand Swords didn’t mean I needed to incorporate every subtlety into every technique. Like the final brushstroke that brings a dragon to life—the finishing touch—the answer was to add minute refinement to perfected swordsmanship. That was the true mastery.

“How dare you!”

Parrel, his pride wounded, unleashed the Manhwagong’s Flame Wave Unbroken. Two torrents of flame crashed down as if to swallow me whole.

“Impressive.”

To strengthen the power of his swordsmanship while merely mimicking it—that was an ability beyond the Ring of Fire. It seemed to be an authority he possessed.

‘But it no longer matters.’

Through this battle, I had grasped the true way to use the Ten Thousand Swords. Now, no matter how powerfully Parrel returned my strikes, I could defend against them.

Manhwagong Heavenly Flame Unbroken.

I unfolded the Flame Wave Unbroken in the exact same manner that Parrel had unleashed it.

Whoosh!

The Flame Wave Unbroken I created was noticeably smaller compared to the crimson waves Parrel had unleashed.

But hidden within those flames was the subtle essence of the Absolute Blade—a technique that severed the opponent’s sword flow completely.

Boom!

Parrel’s massive Flame Unbreakable shattered into fragments, and his eyes, wide with shock, were finally revealed.

Ching!

Just as the First Patriarch had relentlessly driven me forward, I surged in without hesitation and plunged the Heavenly Sword into Parrel’s chest.

“Ugh!”

Parrel trembled, his lips bleeding as pain and confusion still clouded his mind.

“Disappear.”

I twisted the blade through Parrel’s heart and wrenched it free, jerking my chin dismissively.

“I’m far too busy to waste time on someone like you.”

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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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