The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 602

 

The axe, which had flown fiercely as if riding the wind, swerved and left only a thin scratch on Shiran’s forehead before plunging into the river.

“Ugh!”

As soon as the axe grazed his head, Shiran urgently stepped back to distance himself from Raon.

“Mm…”

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

‘I was slow to react.’

If the axe had targeted him, he could have easily deflected it and decapitated Shiran. But the axe had aimed straight for Shiran’s head from the start.

This unexpected situation caused a delay in his response, giving Shiran a chance to escape. It was frustrating to have moved according to the axe thrower’s intent.

Raon didn’t chase the now-distant Shiran but looked in the direction the axe had come from. He saw a massive black ship cutting through the wide and deep Peren River.

It was the warship of the South-North Union, the notorious “Malice,” which one could never forget once seen.

Rumble!

A colossal presence emanated from the Malice as it approached, crushing the remains of the maritime market to pieces.

Boom!

With a thunderous sound, an old man holding a red axe descended onto the river. The overwhelming aura transmitted through his mere breath made the waves calm down as if frightened, and the tornado reaching the sky subsided.

Raon felt the fierce, stinging pressure and looked up.

The man, with his roughly combed white hair, black robe full of scars, and a dragon-head-shaped red axe, was Roman, the god of the Label River.

-Why does a small fry appear like the protagonist?

Wrath grumbled, clearly displeased. Sometimes, I envy his boldness and composure.

“Good timing, Roman!”

Shiran hurriedly ran to his father and quickly nodded.

“That guy is dangerous! He must be killed immediately, not a year later!”

He pointed vehemently, insisting that Raon be killed before he grew any stronger.

“…”

Roman didn’t answer Shiran’s outcry and instead looked at Raon.

“It’s been two years.”

“More than that, actually.”

Raon sighed as he met Roman’s gaze.

“Sighing in front of me? You still have no manners.”

Despite his words, Roman gave a refreshing smile.

“Pretending to target him and throwing off his rhythm, well done.”

Roman clicked his tongue briefly as he turned his gaze to Shiran.

“You used your head better than expected.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard praise.”

Roman chuckled and nodded.

“Roman! What are you doing?!”

Shiran, standing beside Roman, frowned.

“Kill him quickly! This chance won’t come again!”

“Head.”

Roman let out a frustrating sigh as he looked at Shiran.

“Pathetic.”

“What?”

“When I promised a duel to the death with that brat in three years, Rektor asked me a question.”

He continued, looking into Raon’s calm eyes.

“He asked what I would do if you killed him before the three years were up. Do you know what my answer was?”

“Uh…”

Shiran trembled as if he already knew the answer.

“I said I wouldn’t care. If he was someone who died by the hands of an old man whose teeth and claws had fallen out, there would be no need to feel regret.”

Roman twisted his lips as he looked at Shiran’s trembling eyes.

“So, the opposite is true as well.”

“What…?”

“If you’re at a disadvantage, there’s no need for me to help you. I, too, am a warrior who knows shame. I won’t do something as disgraceful as intervening in a one-on-one duel.”

He waved his hand with a chilling smile.

“Continue. I will act as a witness to the outcome.”

“Wh-what nonsense!”

Shiran’s lips trembled in anger.

“Why not just kill him here?!”

“Why should I?”

Roman shrugged his broad shoulders.

“My duel with that brat is on January 1st next year. Eating unripe fruit will only leave a bitter taste.”

He cradled the axe in his arms, closing his eyes as if he truly had no intention of fighting.

“Roman! You damned fool!”

Despite Shiran’s call, Roman did not open his eyes again.

“I have a question.”

Only after Raon called did Roman slowly lift his eyelids.

“What is it?”

“If you don’t intend to fight, why did you save him?”

Earlier, Roman had used his wits to save Shiran. Naturally, Raon thought they would both attack him, so it was strange for him to now claim he wouldn’t participate.

“You’re asking something simple.”

Roman raised his chin and moved his lips.

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

He smirked as if that was all there was to it.

“You crazy! If the Lord Leader finds out…”

“He will praise me.”

“W-what!”

“The Lord Leader ordered not to touch Raon Zieghart. You were the first to defy that command, so you can’t blame me for not saving you.”

Roman shook his head, saying it was a simple matter.

“Ugh…”

Shiran stepped back, twisting his lips. He seemed to be thinking of escaping, knowing he couldn’t win the battle right now.

“Head. Where do you think you’re going?”

Roman blocked Shiran’s path with a fierce look in his eyes.

“I am the witness of this duel to the death. Until one of you dies, you cannot leave.”

He raised a vicious aura, indicating he was serious about his role as a witness.

“You madman! Stop joking!”

“I am always serious.”

Roman motioned with his chin, signaling him to return.

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

Shiran gasped and returned to his original position, clearly intimidated by Roman’s presence.

“Feel free.”

Roman smiled leisurely as if it didn’t matter.

“What are you doing?”

He signaled to Raon standing before Shiran.

“I’ve set the stage for you, so finish it.”

“How can I trust you?”

Raon frowned as he looked at Roman.

“You don’t trust me?”

“Of course not.”

Instead of Raon, it was Rimmer who answered.

“Even after taking three of my moves, you were excited and kept coming. The duel to the death next year was set because of your whim, and now you want us to trust you?”

Rimmer gritted his teeth as he glared at Roman.

“Where did you sell your arm?”

Roman narrowed his eyes as he looked at Rimmer’s right shoulder.

“Never mind that, just answer.”

“That was then, this is now.”

Roman looked at both Shiran and Raon and twisted his lips.

“The battle between an old man, dragging his aged body to avenge his grandson, and a genius trying to kill both the grandson and the grandfather. Such a fight won’t happen again.”

Roman stomped his foot hard and laughed loudly.

“I will not intervene in this fight, and I will personally escort the winner home without laying a finger on him. I stake my title as the King of the River on it.”

He pounded his chest, promising on his title.

“No matter what he’s thinking. Let’s finish this first.”

Raon nodded at Rimmer.

“Hoo, alright.”

Rimmer sighed and took a step back.

“If Roman intervenes, I’ll stop him no matter what. Finish Shiran.”

“Understood.”

Despite his poor condition, Rimmer was a man who kept his word, unlike Roman. Trusting him, Raon stepped forward.

Crunch!

Shiran ground his teeth so hard they seemed about to break as he glared at Raon.

“I’ll chop you up so finely you won’t even be fish food!”

He raised his fishing rod. The waves surged again as a massive aura began to gather.

Raon narrowed his eyes as he looked at Shiran’s flushed face.

‘His willpower is impressive.’

Shiran knew he had lost. Despite his crushed spirit, he created a powerful aura out of pure vengeance for his grandson.

“Haaah!”

Shiran extended his fishing rod and swung it. The fishing line, infused with powerful energy, curved like a whip aiming for Raon’s neck.

Whoosh!

Raon covered his sword in flames from his core. The blazing hot sword cleaved through the descending fishing line.

Slash!

The fishing line, as tough as steel, was easily severed, sending the bobber and hook sinking into the water.

Raon smacked his lips as he watched Shiran stagger.

‘He’s weakened.’

Though Shiran’s aura was still strong, his resolve to kill had diminished. It seemed like the experience of defeat had subdued it.

‘But still…’

I can’t underestimate him.

A man consumed by vengeance is unpredictable. Instead of rejoicing in my apparent victory, I must stay focused until the end.

Raon aligned his steps with the river’s flow. Using the Supreme Harmony Steps, he approached Shiran and thrust the Heavenly Drive at his neck.

Clang!

Shiran gritted his teeth and raised his fishing rod to block. Blood dripped from his mouth, indicating severe internal injuries.

Sizzle!

Raon didn’t miss the moment Shiran tried to catch his breath and invaded his space.

“Kuh!”

Shiran hastily retreated, swinging his fishing rod. Though it lacked deep intent, the sheer amount of aura was overwhelming.

‘He won’t go down easily.’

Raon gripped the hilt of the Heavenly Drive tightly and stomped his right foot. Calming the surging river, he extended his left hand holding the Soul Requiem Sword. The red blade, casting a white shadow, enveloped the incoming energy.

Raon Zieghart’s Swordsmanship.

Form Five: White Shadow Slash.

The Soul Requiem Sword’s White Shadow Slash swept away the immense energy from Shiran’s fishing rod in an instant.

“What…?”

Shiran’s eyes widened in disbelief as the massive energy vanished in the blink of an eye.

Hiss!

Raon, seizing the moment, thrust the Soul Requiem Sword forward with thirty-six slashes of flame, targeting Shiran’s vital points.

Slash!

Although Shiran managed to protect his heart and neck, the other wounds bled profusely, covering his entire body in blood.

“Grr…”

Shiran lowered his fishing rod powerlessly, his face twisted in pain and despair.

As Raon moved to finish him, Shiran grabbed the Heavenly Drive with his left hand and his wrist with his right hand.

“Got you!”

Despite the blood pouring from his hand, Shiran grinned wickedly.

Raon tried to free his sword and wrist, but Shiran’s grip, bolstered by not only his aura but also his life force, held firm.

“If I can’t kill you, then we’ll die together!”

Shiran’s skin turned red hot as his core began to pulsate violently, ready to explode with immense power.

“You killed my grandson and expect to live? Never…”

“That’s what I expected.”

Raon nodded briefly, looking at Shiran, who was sneering at him.

“What?”

“Your act was too obvious.”

From the beginning, Raon hadn’t been fooled by Shiran’s vengeful retreat and weakened demeanor.

Boom!

Raon released the Heavenly Drive and spread his palm wide.

“You…!”

As Shiran hastily tried to strike with his left hand, Raon intercepted and thrust his extended right hand forward.

Wrath’s Final Skill: Silver Moon Palm.

With Wrath’s scream, the silver light struck Shiran’s chest, instantly freezing his entire body.

Crackle!

Since Shiran had concentrated all his aura in his core for self-destruction, he couldn’t defend against the freezing energy and turned into an ice sculpture.

“You…”

“I told you. I’ll send you to where your grandson is.”

Raon looked into Shiran’s trembling eyes and struck down the hand gripping his wrist.

“D-damn…”

Shiran couldn’t even finish his last words as he froze completely and fell into the river. His eyes, momentarily surfacing, were bloodshot as if he couldn’t believe his own death.

“Reunite with your grandson in hell.”

Raon watched Shiran’s cold, lifeless body sink into the river.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

As he exhaled a ragged breath, loud applause rang out. Turning around, Raon saw Roman smiling warmly as he clapped.

“Impressive. A magnificent psychological battle.”

Roman nodded and stepped forward.

“You really didn’t intervene.”

“Didn’t I say? I keep my promises.”

Roman waved his hand as if it were a given.

“Hoo…”

Raon sighed briefly and shook his head.

“So, can I leave now?”

“Of course. This fight between you and the elder was a legitimate duel.”

Roman nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“However…”

He unfolded his arms and gripped the red axe handle with his right hand.

“A new fight is different.”

“What?”

“What I want to see is not a psychological battle but a clash of strength.”

Roman smirked and took another step closer. His massive frame made it seem like he was closing the distance by several meters with each step.

“I need to see if your sword is sharp enough for a proper duel to the death.”

“What does that mean?”

“Three moves.”

Roman raised three fingers.

“If you can withstand three of my moves, I promise not to lay a finger on you and let you go.”

Roman lowered the axe. The river began to bubble and boil where the axe touched the water.

“That lying bastard.”

Rimmer frowned as he looked at Roman.

“He can’t seem to keep a promise! Didn’t he say he’d stake his title on it?”

Rimmer gripped his sword, ready to intervene.

“Then don’t call me the King of the River anymore.”

Roman laughed, saying he would abandon his title for breaking his promise.

“Damn bastard…”

“Leave this to me.”

Raon pushed Rimmer back and stepped forward.

“You want to see my skill?”

“Yes. Many spectators will come, and I can’t show them a lousy fight.”

“Fine.”

Raon nodded and readjusted his grip on the Heavenly Drive and the Soul Requiem Sword.

“Then let me check something as well.”

“What?”

Roman frowned, not understanding.

“If your axe isn’t as heavy as I expect…”

Raon’s eyes gleamed with a red lightning flash.

“I will take your head right here.”