The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 741

*Thwack!*

The box of ice cream spheres that had been on Raon’s knee tumbled to the floor.

– “Ack! There are still three left! What are you doing?!”

Wrath flailed his tiny hands, desperately reaching for the fallen box.

‘What did you just say?’

– “I said there are three left! Why would you do this?!”

‘Not that! The trumpet!’

– “I told you—it’s the Trumpet of Apocalypse!”

Wrath frowned, confused at Raon’s insistence, as if Raon hadn’t heard him the first time.

– “Now hurry up and pick up the ice cream! After three seconds, dust will stick to it!”

‘Wait….’

Raon swallowed hard, looking at Wrath’s reddened face.

‘You just casually mentioned a trumpet that can bring about the end of the world, and yet you’re more worried about ice cream?’

Even if Wrath had the disposition of a glutton, he usually knew how to separate business from pleasure. His casual attitude about an apocalyptic trumpet while focusing on ice cream felt surreal.

– “Fool! Do you think just blowing a trumpet can immediately cause the end of the world?”

Wrath snorted, tilting his head upward.

‘What do you mean by that?’

– “First, pick up the ice cream!”

‘…Fine.’

Raon frowned but picked up the box and placed it back on his knee.

‘It’s already been three seconds, though.’

– “Dust can be brushed off! The three-second rule is flexible!”

Wrath muttered some nonsensical rule, letting out a relieved sigh.

– “Do you really think blowing a single trumpet will bring about the end of the world? It’s not that simple!”

‘Then what is the trumpet for?’

– “As you saw, it’s not just one trumpet.”

Wrath gestured lightly at his head as if to jog Raon’s memory.

‘Three of them?’

Raon recalled Uriel’s waist, where three fiery trumpets had hung.

– “No, seven.”

Wrath shook his head slowly.

– “Seven archangels, each with a trumpet. All seven must blow their trumpets in turn to summon the apocalypse.”

Wrath covered his eyes with his round hands as if shielding them from the darkness of the imagined scenario.

– “And it’s not as simple as just blowing into them. They must break the seals first.”

‘Seals?’

– “The trumpets called the Trumpets of Apocalypse are locked by divine seals. The archangels must also perform the Prayer of Resolve.”

Wrath explained that the Prayer of Resolve wasn’t an ordinary prayer but something far more significant.

– “And even before that, it’s nearly impossible to gather all the archangels in one place and have them blow the trumpets together. Like us Demon Kings, they each have wildly different personalities.”

Wrath smirked, as if saying the unlikelihood of such an event was obvious.

‘Then one more thing.’

Raon raised a finger.

‘If a trumpet with its seal broken is blown, what happens?’

– “Each trumpet brings about a different phenomenon. For example, the first trumpet summons flaming hailstones the size of small meteors.”

‘Flaming hailstones?’

Raon couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity.

‘Isn’t that already apocalyptic?’

If the first trumpet brought hailstones of that size, he couldn’t begin to imagine what the others might do.

– “The second trumpet causes underwater volcanoes to erupt, drying up the seas and annihilating marine life.”

Wrath explained the trumpets’ effects as if he had witnessed them firsthand.

‘And the last one?’

– “When the seventh trumpet is blown, a dragon descends.”

‘A dragon? You mean like the mythical creature?’

– “No, not some lizard. A true dragon.”

Wrath’s tone grew heavy, his voice sinking into seriousness.

‘Has such a dragon ever appeared in this world?’

– “It has.”

‘Then….’

– “That’s all I can tell you.”

Wrath shook his head, not out of unwillingness but as if there was simply nothing more to say.

‘Hmm….’

Raon clicked his tongue as he studied Wrath’s somber expression. For the usually talkative Wrath to fall silent, it seemed there really was nothing else to add.

‘A dragon, huh….’

The thought sent a chill down Raon’s spine. What kind of being could provoke such a reaction from Wrath?

‘But then….’

Raon gently stroked the ice cream box as he lifted his gaze.

‘Uriel had three trumpets. How do you explain that?’

Wrath had said each archangel was supposed to have one trumpet, yet Uriel had three.

– “I don’t know either,” Wrath admitted, shaking his head.

– “They could be fakes, or perhaps he took them from other archangels.”

Wrath’s half-lowered eyes showed that he, too, found it suspicious.

*Crunch.*

Raon clenched his fists, his teeth grinding.

‘Derus Robert….’

What are you scheming now?

There was no way the archangel appeared without reason, nor would Uriel possess three trumpets without a purpose. Even if it wasn’t the end of the world, they were clearly planning something.

‘Wrath.’

– “What now?”

Wrath barely looked up, his eyes still fixed on the ice cream.

‘Demon Kings hate angels, don’t they?’

– “Of course! It’s like oil and water—born to destroy one another. But….”

Wrath glanced at Raon, narrowing his eyes slightly.

– “Some of us can suppress that instinct if it serves our desires.”

Wrath wrinkled his nose, calling the relationship complicated.

“Such a mess.”

Raon sighed, shaking his head. The story had grown too large for him to fully process.

‘But…’

Why is the number seven so significant?

Seven Demon Kings, seven archangels, and seven trumpets of apocalypse. It felt like the number held some hidden meaning.

– “As I said, it’s not worth worrying about yet.”

Wrath flicked his hand dismissively.

– “Uriel hasn’t broken the seals or performed the Prayer of Resolve. There’s nothing to fear.”

Wrath smugly tilted his chin, as if to say he had deliberately withheld unnecessary worries.

– “Now let’s finish the ice cream first….”

Raon shut the lid of the ice cream box and stood up.

– “W-where are you going?!”

‘To report this.’

Ignoring Wrath’s protests, Raon rushed to the meeting hall.

– “This is why I wanted to eat and then talk!”

—

“This concludes all the agenda items we prepared,” said Rosaline, the Black Market leader, tidying up her documents with a faint smile.

“Ugh, my shoulders are stiff,” Ogram grumbled, rolling his shoulders with a sigh.

“I’d rather fight than sit through another meeting like this.”

“M-me too….” Larian collapsed onto the round table, sticking out his tongue.

“I’m not coming out of my house for six months.”

“You’ll be working with me next month, so get ready,” Chamber snapped, furrowing her brows.

“Please, have mercy….” Larian hunched his shoulders, lowering his gaze.

“At least the meeting ended on a positive note,” King Lecross said, setting his papers down with a smile.

“It’s unfortunate we couldn’t capture Derus, but everything else went according to plan.”

“Exactly,” Glenn agreed with a nod.

“Now let’s wrap up.”

Chamber raised her hand with a grin.

“Late nights ruin your skin—”

*Boom!*

The door to the meeting hall swung open violently, as if it might break, and Raon rushed inside.

“Y-young master?”

“Is that you, Rimmer? Why would you break the door?!”

Roenn blinked, dumbfounded, while Sheryl let out a disbelieving laugh.

“My apologies for the sudden entrance.”

“Raon?”

Glenn narrowed his eyes at Raon, who was panting heavily.

“What is it?” Glenn asked, his sharp gaze assessing Raon.

“There is something I have not yet reported,” Raon replied, straightening his posture before bowing to the Five Kings’ leaders.

“Go ahead,” Glenn said, tilting his head slightly, sensing that Raon’s words carried weight.

“Do you remember the trumpets hanging from Uriel’s waist?”

“Yes, there were three peculiar trumpets,” Chamber said, recalling Uriel’s appearance in vivid detail, her mage-like memory serving her well.

“Those fiery trumpets…” Raon began, then shared everything Wrath had told him about the *Trumpets of Apocalypse*.

“…Trumpets of Apocalypse?”

“Such artifacts exist? That’s not just an artifact—it transcends even that concept!”

“No matter how much I trust the Light Wind Division Leader, it’s hard to believe something like that…”

Leaders of the neutral factions swallowed hard, struggling to accept Raon’s revelation.

“I-I’ve seen it!” Larian raised his trembling hand. “It was written in an ancient book of unknown origin. It said that when seven winged beings blow their trumpets, the world will meet its end.”

She shivered, recalling the passage she had once dismissed as mere fantasy.

“So… it’s real?”

“This is insane…”

“Ending the world with a trumpet… is it the angels or the demons who are the real monsters?”

Fear gripped the assembly, their lips quivering as Larian’s testimony lent weight to Raon’s account.

“Listen, this is—”

“That cannot be easily accomplished,” Glenn interrupted calmly, shaking his head before Raon could explain further.

“This world operates under unseen rules and forces. To cause such an apocalypse simply by blowing trumpets would require fulfilling many conditions.”

Glenn, bound by causality himself, understood that even such catastrophic artifacts couldn’t be used freely.

“That’s true,” Chamber agreed, nodding as she saw the gravity in Glenn’s eyes. “Triggering the apocalypse must involve countless prerequisites.”

She rubbed her fingers together thoughtfully. “It would also take significant time and effort.”

“And the fact that the book Larian mentioned still exists is proof that the trumpets were blown without destroying the world,” Glenn added, his gaze settling on Larian.

“Yes, that’s right. The book, though old, was clearly written in this world,” Larian said, blinking rapidly as she affirmed Glenn’s logic.

“Whether the Trumpets of Apocalypse exist or a demon king descends, our mission does not change,” Glenn declared, placing his hand on the round table and raising his voice.

“Derus and the central force of the Five Demons will be immobilized for a time. Before they rise again, we must grow stronger—both as individuals and as a collective force.”

He emphasized his point by locking eyes with each faction leader in turn.

“In the meantime, leave intelligence and reconnaissance to us,” Rosaline said, placing her hand on her chest and urging the assembly to trust the Black Market.

Watching the others firm their resolve, Raon clenched his fists.

‘I, too, must prepare… for that place.’

—

After the meeting adjourned, the Five Kings returned to their respective domains. Raon, though he had tasks to attend to, first stopped by the annex to reassure Sylvia and the maids.

“Raon!”

“Young master!”

Sylvia and the maids rushed out to greet him, quickly encircling him.

“They say Derus Robert was a truly vile man!”

“He’s the one who brainwashed the children, isn’t he?”

“That bastard! Even calling him trash is too generous!”

The maids rarely expressed such strong emotions, but their fury was palpable, likely stemming from their care for the children Derus had manipulated.

“Raon, I heard you exposed Derus’ true identity…” Sylvia frowned as she scrutinized Raon’s entire body for injuries.

“Why did you take on such a dangerous task?!”

“It was the only way,” Raon replied, scratching his neck with an awkward smile.

In the past, such concern would have annoyed him, but now it warmed his heart. He felt he could listen to it endlessly.

“Yua, Julius, are you both unharmed?” (TL Note: Is it me or did the Author JUST remembered that he made a character Julius. Its been a while since he was last mentioned.)

“Completely fine!”

“We didn’t do much, honestly,” the two children said, bowing their heads.

“I’m glad everyone’s safe.” Sylvia sighed in relief, placing her hand over her heart. “I’ve prepared a feast for tonight to celebrate your return. You can look forward to it.”

Her bright clap reflected her joyful mood.

“Just wait a little longer,” Helen said with a warm smile, leading the other maids inside to prepare the meal.

—

Wrath floated above, twisting in the air like a snake.

– “A feast to welcome the Demon King! How delightful!”

The absurdly optimistic Wrath beamed as he basked in his delusions.

“I’ll stop by the main house for a bit,” Raon said, bowing slightly toward Sylvia.

“The main house? Why?” Sylvia asked.

“I have something to report to the Patriarch.”

“Alright, but come back quickly.”

Sylvia waved him off, letting him leave with little concern.

– “Wait! You’re leaving?! They’re making a feast, and you’re just going to walk out?!”

Wrath anxiously glanced at the smoking chimneys in the annex.

‘I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.’

Waving off Wrath’s protests, Raon made his way to the main house. Walking through the now-familiar halls of the Patriarch’s residence, he stopped in front of the audience chamber.

“Raon?”

Roenn blinked, surprised to see him at the main house so soon after returning.

“I have something to discuss with the Patriarch,” Raon said, bowing to Roenn.

“He’s receiving reports at the moment, but—”

“Let him in,” came Glenn’s voice from inside the chamber, as if he had been listening all along.

“He says you may enter,” Roenn said with a soft chuckle, opening the door.

Raon took a deep breath and stepped into the chamber.

As Roenn had mentioned, Glenn was receiving a report, with Chad standing below the platform.

“Apologies for disturbing you when you must be tired,” Raon said, bowing deeply as he stood at the chamber’s center.

“It’s fine,” Glenn replied, waving a hand dismissively. His gaze, still warm from the previous night at the beach, put Raon at ease.

It was clear Glenn was willing to listen to whatever Raon had to say.

“You granted me permission to enter the *Room of Ego*, correct?” Raon asked, lifting his head.

“Yes,” Glenn confirmed.

“I’d like to use that permission now.” Raon bowed again, politely making his request. Given Glenn’s demeanor and the supportive atmosphere, he felt confident his request would be granted.

“That is not possible.”

Glenn’s firm refusal left Raon dumbstruck.

“…Excuse me?”

Raon’s jaw dropped, his mind scrambling to process the unexpected response.

“I did not refuse without reason,” Glenn said, gazing down at Raon and clicking his tongue lightly.

“There is already a guest in the Room of Ego.”