The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 671
*Thud.*
The dark energy squirmed beneath his feet like a writhing bug. As if feeling fear, the ominous black energy trembled grotesquely and slipped through the gaps in the railing.
*Click.*
Raon clicked his tongue as he ascended the steps filled with the sticky dark energy.
*”It feels endless.”*
If it hadn’t been for the **<Wrath>** passed to him by Wrath, he would have completely drained the energy from both his *Mana Heart* and *Glacier* just by reaching this point.
It seemed that Bauren, who was conducting his twisted ritual at the top of the tower, believed that no one could break through the thick darkness he had spread.
– *Ughh…*
Wrath, perched on Raon’s shoulder, clenched his chubby fists, trembling.
– *This isn’t why I gave you my Wrath! This isn’t how I intended it to be used!*
With each step Raon took, Wrath groaned in frustration, seemingly unable to accept the fact that his power was being used as a mere tool.
‘I’ll get you some ice cream once this is over. Just stay quiet for a bit.’
Raon sighed and patted Wrath on the head.
– *Hmph!*
Wrath immediately shut his mouth, as if he had been waiting for this offer all along. It made Raon think that Wrath had planned this all along—what a peculiar demon king.
“Hey.”
Saintess Olga called out from behind, waving her hand.
“You’re not overdoing it, are you?”
“Overdoing it?”
“I mean, you’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”
She glanced at him in disbelief, as if she couldn’t comprehend how effortlessly he was pushing back the dark energy.
“If you’re burning through your life force or something…”
“I’m not as reckless as you. Don’t worry.”
“You bastard! I’m worried about you!”
Olga glared at Raon, gritting her teeth.
“What do you mean by ‘reckless’?” Rimmer asked, looking confused.
“That fake saintess over there. When she runs out of divine power, she burns through her own life force,” Raon explained, looking down at Olga’s pouting lips with a frown.
“What…?”
“Those black lines on her arms and legs? They’re not tattoos. It’s what happens when her skin melts away from converting life force into divine power.”
Rimmer’s eyes widened in disbelief, recognizing the consequences of fighting in such a reckless manner.
“Hey! That’s like borrowing money you can never repay! Why the hell are you living like that?”
Having once fought similarly, Rimmer couldn’t comprehend her actions.
“None of your business how I live.”
Olga waved him off dismissively.
“Don’t waste your divine power,” Raon warned, nodding toward her bitter expression. Her reckless tendencies reminded him of Merlin, and it made him uncomfortable.
“I’ll take care of my own damn body, so keep your mouth shut.”
“If you keep going like this, you’ll die before you even get to throw a punch.”
Wrath added another fact about Olga’s condition:
– *A premature death.*
Those born with an open *Upper Energy Center* were destined for short lives, no matter what they did.
‘She really doesn’t have much time left?’
– *I told you! Her energy center is even more open than that pineapple girl’s, so she won’t live long even if she tries!*
Wrath huffed as if annoyed by Raon’s repeated questions.
‘Now I understand what Bauren meant by wanting to kill the god that would come for her.’
Raon recalled Bauren’s statement about killing the god that would claim Olga, knowing now that it was because of her short lifespan.
‘She’s just as reckless as Merlin.’
Born with a short lifespan and yet choosing to shorten it even further to save others, Olga was like a moth rushing toward a fire.
“You’re—”
As Raon narrowed his eyes at her, Wrath suddenly burst out again.
– *Wait! With all this chaos, there’s no way the ice cream shops are still intact! We need to get out of here!*
‘Then I’ll buy it somewhere else… But there’s something above us.’
Raon stopped mid-sentence, sensing a surge in the thickening dark energy from above. Someone was up there.
He continued up the steps, soon arriving at a platform where Priest Piren and Royal Guard Commander Danieff stood on the gray ground, surrounded by a mix of divine power and dark energy.
“I didn’t think you’d actually make it here again,” Piren remarked with wide eyes.
Danieff, as always, remained silent, gazing at Raon with calm eyes.
“Piren! Danieff!”
Olga shouted their names as soon as she ascended the steps.
“You bastards!”
Her shoulders trembled with anger, as if she could collapse under the weight of her fury.
“Olga.”
Piren addressed her by name, not by her title of Saintess, and smiled softly, as if recalling fond memories.
“You’ve spent so much divine power protecting the kingdom, yet you came all the way here? You’ll die if you continue.”
His calm voice implied that he knew her secret well.
“Yeah. I’ll die. But first, I’ll take you two down.”
Olga clenched her fists, her fury barely contained.
“But what I can’t understand is you, Raon Zieghart,” Piren continued, sighing as he turned toward Raon.
“You’ve pierced through this dark energy without divine power, aura, or mana. What kind of power are you using…?”
Raon didn’t answer. Instead, he calmly stepped toward the next staircase leading to the upper floors.
“I’m afraid this is as far as you go!”
Piren’s fist ignited with divine energy, while Danieff drew his sword, aiming for Raon’s throat.
Raon didn’t even spare them a glance. He continued walking, undeterred.
*Whoosh!*
Before Piren’s fist or Danieff’s blade could reach Raon, a white light and a gust of wind flared up, intercepting their attacks.
*Clang!*
It was Rimmer and Olga. They positioned themselves at Raon’s sides, flawlessly blocking the assault.
“I’m your opponent!”
Olga gritted her teeth, blocking Piren’s flaming fist with her arm.
“You were meant to be my target from the start,” Rimmer said, licking his lips as he locked swords with Danieff.
Raon didn’t bother watching the confrontation. He calmly ascended the stairs, heading toward the thickest concentration of dark energy.
“Hey!” Olga shouted, frowning as she glanced back at him.
“Drag that bastard Bauren down here!”
“If he’s still alive.”
Raon nodded lightly and continued upward. He didn’t look back or hesitate, fully trusting Olga and Rimmer.
“Stop him!” Piren’s form seemed to blur as he tried to pursue Raon, but Olga mirrored his movements, blocking his path.
*Boom!*
Their fists, infused with divine energy, collided, sending shockwaves through the air.
*Clang!*
Danieff tried to unleash a powerful strike at Raon, but Rimmer’s blade deflected the blow, causing the floor to tremble under the impact.
“Move…,” Danieff muttered.
“If you’re going to sit at the table, you might as well play the hand you’re dealt. Where do you think you’re going?” Rimmer said, nodding toward Danieff’s shaking eyes.
“Olga! You must trust the king!” Piren shouted as he tried to push her back.
“Trust him? The king who made a deal with demons and sacrifices his people? You want me to trust that?”
Olga smirked, mocking Piren’s words.
“We live in chaotic times. The six monarchs of the devildom—no, worse monsters—roam the continent. This was the only way to survive! The king did it to save the kingdom!”
“I think the gods are worthless too. They’re deaf and blind. But you lot? You have no eyes or ears at all!”
Olga roared, sending her divine energy-infused fist crashing toward Piren.
—
*Boom!*
Piren lightly deflected Olga’s powerful strike, countering with a chop aimed at her abdomen.
*Thud!*
Olga blocked Piren’s chop with her elbow, but the force was too great. Her face twisted in pain as she was forced to retreat.
*Thump!*
She pressed her foot into the ground, launching herself back toward Piren, fists flying relentlessly. Her strikes seemed chaotic, but every move was honed by years of training and precision.
Yet, Piren effortlessly evaded each attack, flowing with her movements as if he had anticipated them all.
“Olga,” Piren said quietly, his posture mirroring hers, “you seem to have forgotten who taught you this style.”
He extended his hand, his fist engulfed in the pure white flames of divine energy, narrowing his eyes as he prepared to strike.
“Yeah, you were the one who taught me,” Olga replied, her voice calm as she nodded in acknowledgment.
*Forgotten? Absolutely not.*
Memories of her childhood, of practicing Piren’s techniques with her small hands, filled her mind. She could recall the warm smiles of Bauren and Danieff standing behind them, the sunlight warming her face, and the cool breeze that dried her sweat.
Nothing had been forgotten—not those memories, nor the fact that it was now her responsibility to stop her mentor, a man who had forsaken his humanity. Even if it meant this would be her final battle.
“Olga. You cannot defeat me,” Piren said with certainty.
“Every master rejoices when their student surpasses them, isn’t that what they say?” Olga’s stance lowered like a predator stalking its prey through the brush.
“But how about you?”
Her skin began to burn as divine scars carved into her arms and legs. She didn’t seem to feel any pain, her face remaining tranquil as she launched herself at Piren again.
She reappeared to his left, her tightly clenched fist shooting toward his waist.
“Hmph.”
Piren, slightly taken aback, lifted his hand to block the strike.
*Whoosh!*
Expecting this, Olga closed the distance even further, her punches flowing faster and harder than before. The force of each blow created shockwaves as they collided.
“For you to surpass me… hmm?” Piren’s voice faltered as his eyes widened in surprise.
*What’s this?*
Olga’s attacks began to deviate from their expected paths, slipping past his defenses and rattling his bones and organs. The strength behind her strikes was far greater than what he had known of her.
*Thud!*
The force behind Olga’s punch overwhelmed him, making it increasingly difficult to defend. When his guard faltered, her fist slammed into his waist.
“Urgh!” Piren gasped, blood spurting from his mouth as he was hurled backward. His waist caved in, crumpled like a piece of paper.
“Wh-what…?” he stammered.
“Don’t get too surprised just yet,” Olga grunted, her fists trembling as she closed in on him again.
“Argh!” Piren raised both hands, adopting a defensive posture. He shifted all of his divine energy into reinforcing his defense.
However, Olga’s punches now moved like whips, bending and twisting through the air. Her strikes bypassed his defenses, tearing through his shoulder and abdomen.
*Smash!*
Piren coughed up more blood, slamming against a wall of dark energy.
“Wh-what is this…?”
“I always wanted you to stay above me,” Olga murmured, clenching her lips as she stood over his trembling body.
“Surely not…”
Piren’s lips trembled as he shook his head.
“Did you hide your power all this time?”
“Life pushes you to the limit as you approach death. It’s strange how your abilities skyrocket when you know you don’t have much time left.”
Olga gave him a heavy nod.
“Perhaps it’s a gift from death itself.”
She twisted her mouth downward as she aimed a left-handed punch directly at him.
“Urgh…”
This time, Piren couldn’t even attempt to block. Her fist struck his right side, sending him sprawling across the floor.
“Get up. I’m not finished yet.”
“You… you’re remarkable… but…” Piren muttered, spitting out black blood. He clapped his hands together in prayer, and for the first time, black energy flared over his white divine power.
The wounds Olga had inflicted began to heal, his torn flesh knitting itself back together.
“I cannot fall here!”
Piren’s face twisted into a vicious snarl as he charged toward her, his formerly kind expression replaced with hatred.
*Rumble!*
His fists, now engulfed by both divine power and demonic energy, surged forward, the power to erase everything in this space crashing toward her.
*Thud!*
Olga firmly planted her feet into the ground, her eyes showing no fear, only resolve.
“This is the last technique you taught me.”
The faint white light surrounding her small fists intensified, growing brighter, stronger. The divine fragments scattered by the demonic energy began to entwine, creating a brilliant beam of light.
*Boom!*
Olga and Piren mirrored each other, their stances like reflections in a mirror. But the difference in their resolve decided the outcome of this battle between teacher and student.
*Slash!*
Having never deviated from her path, Olga’s fist shattered the black energy surrounding Piren, landing a devastating blow on his right cheek.
“Urgh…”
Piren’s face crumpled, his jaw shattering as he spat out his teeth. His body collapsed to the floor, his eyes losing all light as he slipped into unconsciousness.
*Gasp…*
Olga fell to her knees, coughing up black blood. Three more black scars appeared on her legs. It was a miracle she was even alive at this point.
“Damn…”
She looked up at the ceiling and swore, grinding her teeth in frustration as her body refused to move.
“Bring him down!”
—
“Surpassing the master…” Rimmer nodded toward Olga as he faced Danieff. “It’s what every teacher hopes for. Isn’t that right, knight?”
“…”
Danieff said nothing, his sword slicing upward with an aura-infused strike, narrowly grazing the tips of Rimmer’s hair.
“Knights follow a code, don’t they? And does that code say you should do things like this?”
“A knight is someone who would lay down their life for their lord,” Danieff said coldly, eyes gleaming with intent.
“When commanded, a knight should walk into the flames of hell.”
“No,” Rimmer said again, shaking his head at Danieff’s declaration. His sword moved with a grace that seemed almost effortless, but there was weight behind every parry and deflection. “You’ve misunderstood what it means to be a knight.”
“How dare you, a mere swordsman…” Danieff growled, pushing harder, swinging his sword with renewed vigor.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. A ‘lowly swordsman’ like me shouldn’t be lecturing you, right?” Rimmer’s voice was calm, almost teasing, as his sword danced through the air. His blade deflected Danieff’s strikes with precision, the sound of steel clashing echoing through the tower.
“But let me show you what real knighthood is about.”
At that, Rimmer’s grip tightened, and the air around him shifted. The wind and lightning that had always surrounded his swordsmanship swirled with renewed intensity. The air crackled, and the ground beneath his feet vibrated as he prepared to unleash his next attack.
“Let’s finish this, Danieff.”
Without another word, Rimmer’s blade lit up with energy—wind and lightning coalescing into a single point on the tip of his sword. The natural forces around him responded, swirling faster, fiercer.
“True Sword Manifestation,” Rimmer whispered. “The Song of Wind and Thunder.”
As Rimmer’s voice echoed through the room, the entire world seemed to pause. The dark miasma of the tower seemed to shrink in fear, as though even it recognized the power that was building.
Danieff’s expression shifted. His eyes widened slightly, but his grip on his sword remained firm. He summoned every ounce of aura he had, pooling it into his blade until it glowed with an intense, almost blinding light. The ground beneath him cracked as his power surged upward.
“This is it,” Danieff muttered under his breath. “The final blow.”
Both warriors stood still for a brief moment, gathering all of their strength. It was an unspoken agreement—a duel that would be decided in one strike.
Drip.
A single droplet of dark energy fell from the ceiling, hitting the floor with a quiet plop.
And then they moved.
Boom!
The ground exploded as the two forces collided. Danieff’s sword, radiating with a sea of overwhelming aura, crashed down like a tidal wave. But Rimmer’s blade, guided by the forces of nature themselves, sliced upward, cutting through the air like a bolt of lightning.
Slash!
The clash of their blades sent shockwaves through the tower, shattering the walls and sending debris flying. The miasma that had filled the room was torn apart, obliterated by the sheer force of their strikes.
For a moment, it was unclear who had won. The two figures stood frozen in place, their swords locked together.
And then…
Shatter!
Danieff’s sword cracked, the aura surrounding it splintering. His eyes widened in shock as the force of Rimmer’s blade overwhelmed him. His body jerked, and then…
Thud!
Danieff collapsed to his knees, his sword falling to the ground, broken in two.
Blood spilled from a deep wound in his chest, but Danieff didn’t seem to feel the pain. He stared blankly ahead, his strength leaving him.
“How… could this…?” he muttered, his voice weak, as though he still couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
“Knighthood isn’t just about following orders,” Rimmer said softly, standing over him. “It’s about knowing when to protect your lord… and when to save them from themselves.”
Danieff’s breath was ragged, but his eyes, though clouded with pain, seemed to hold understanding.
“What… should I have done…?” Danieff asked, blood dripping from his mouth.
Rimmer looked down at him, his expression solemn. “A knight’s duty is to more than just obey. The knights I’ve seen, those who truly embodied the code, would fight not just for their lord, but for their people… even if it meant standing against their lord.”
Danieff’s face twisted with regret. “I… should have stopped him…”
“Yeah, you should have,” Rimmer agreed, his tone soft, almost compassionate. “But it’s not too late for you to find peace.”
Danieff clenched his fists as he looked up toward the ceiling, as if seeking redemption in his final moments.
“You won’t have to worry about Bauren much longer,” Rimmer said, his eyes flickering with determination. “My lord will see to that.”
“Your… lord?” Danieff asked weakly.
“Yeah. The one I serve,” Rimmer said with a small smile. “I follow a lord who kicks my ass as often as he kicks his enemies’. A young king… and one you might recognize.”
At that moment, the dark miasma in the upper floor parted, revealing a brilliant golden flame that surged through the opening. The air itself seemed to tremble in response to the overwhelming power.
Rimmer grinned, stepping back to gesture toward the golden flame. “There he is—the young lion of Zieghart, Raon Zieghart.”