The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman - Chapter 747

“Rimmer.”

Glenn stood at the center of the ruined training ground.

“You’ve always said you’d make Raon the family head. You’ve often referred to him as a young king. But now…”

He looked down at Rimmer, who was kneeling in a formal sword salute.

“Why have you suddenly decided to make Raon a true king? Especially when Raon himself doesn’t even think about becoming the head of the family.”

Glenn frowned, unable to understand Rimmer’s actions.

“It doesn’t matter what Raon thinks of Zieghart’s throne.”

Rimmer slowly raised his head to meet Glenn’s gaze.

“I want to follow the path he chooses.”

“Raon’s path?”

“Yes. If Raon desires to become the head of Zieghart, I will pave the road to the throne. If he wishes to leave the family and build his own castle, I will be the first to grab a shovel and lay bricks.”

His eyes glimmered with resolute determination.

“Uh…”

Glenn swallowed a thin breath.

‘He’s serious.’

Rimmer’s aura was as sharp as it would be during a battle. It signified that he had made a decision and come here with that resolve.

“When Raon was attacked and went missing, I thought about many things.”

Rimmer, with his head bowed, bit his lips so hard it seemed his flesh would tear.

“Why couldn’t I protect him? Why couldn’t I stop it? Why was I so careless? I was so devastated by my own incompetence that I couldn’t eat or sleep, swinging my sword endlessly in despair.”

He trembled as he continued, his hand gripping the sword hilt shaking.

“When Raon returned and saved the family head, I realized something. I realized how significant Raon is to me and to the Light Wind Division.”

Rimmer let out a deep breath and lifted his gaze again.

“In the end, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, but if the same thing happens again, if Raon really dies…”

Grinding his teeth, he shook his head as if to dispel the thought.

“I want to set my own resolve.”

“That’s why you say you’ll serve Raon as your lord?”

Glenn nodded, finally understanding.

“Currently, the first person I must protect is the family head. Even if Raon and the Light Wind Division are dying right in front of me, I must prioritize the family head.”

Rimmer exuded a chilling killing intent, as if he were standing in the middle of a battlefield rather than a training ground.

“I want to break free from that. I want to protect Raon and the Light Wind Division before anyone else.”

He struck the ground with his clenched fist.

“I swear, no one will harm Raon as long as I live.”

Rimmer, as if pledging an oath, struck his bleeding fist against his heart.

“Please, grant me permission.”

He knelt on both knees, signaling his determination not to rise until his request was granted.

Sheryl, with her arms crossed, quietly observed Rimmer. It seemed she had anticipated this situation.

“Rimmer, you’re as impulsive as ever.”

Glenn looked up at the gaping sky before lowering his gaze.

“You’ve been impulsive since the day we first met. Many elves advised you not to follow me, but you stole a sword and chased after me anyway.”

He slowly directed his gaze to Rimmer’s sword.

“I didn’t steal it!”

Rimmer shook his head vehemently, insisting it was rightfully his.

“I liked that reckless side of you. That’s why I accepted you.”

Glenn locked eyes with Rimmer’s clear gaze.

“Ever since those children died, you’ve hidden your emotions behind a false smile. But now, you’ve finally returned to being the Rimmer I know, the Light Sword Rimmer.”

Glenn smiled brightly, as if genuinely pleased.

“Do as you please.”

He firmly grasped Rimmer’s shoulder, encouraging him to walk the path he had chosen.

“Thank… you.”

Rimmer trembled as he deeply bowed his head.

“Ha….”

Sheryl let out a long sigh, relieved the conversation had ended well.

“You fool.”

She leaned her head against a wall, her exhaustion evident.

“It does feel a bit lonely, though.”

Rimmer stood up and clicked his tongue.

“I haven’t even thought about how to treat the family head if I don’t serve him as my lord.”

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“It’s simple.”

Glenn looked back at Rimmer with a faint smile.

“Comrade. Friend. Isn’t that enough?”

It was something he would never have said before. However, his time with Raon and Sylvia had softened his emotions.

Now, he felt he could forge new relationships not only with Rimmer but with others as well.

“That sounds good.”

Sheryl nodded gently, seeming pleased with the notion.

“Ah…”

Rimmer trembled with emotion at Glenn’s words.

“What are you waiting for?”

Sheryl nudged Rimmer’s elbow lightly.

“Answer him.”

She tilted her chin, urging him to speak.

“Um, family head…”

Rimmer’s eyes turned red as his lips quivered.

“I’m sorry, but the age gap is just too big for us to be friends.”

He covered his mouth, shaking his head.

“I look like I’m still in my twenties wherever I go, but family head, with all those wrinkles, it wouldn’t be strange if you ascended to the heavens right now….”

“You crazy bastard….”

Sheryl, who had been smiling, closed her eyes tightly, her face stiffening.

“If we became friends, people would curse at me. For now, I’ll keep serving you as family head….”

As Rimmer rambled, spreading his arms, a crimson lightning bolt gathered in the sky, forming the shape of a sword.

“Uh, family head?”

Rimmer’s lips trembled as he stared at the red lightning sword covering the entire night sky.

“My aura is completely drained right now, so if that hits me, I’ll really die.”

He awkwardly smiled, waving his hand.

“Then die.”

At Glenn’s command, the lightning sword split the sky and descended.

“Wait, comrade! Friend! Family heaaaad!”

Rimmer’s scream echoed as the massive lightning bolt struck, shaking the family training ground to its core.

Boom!

Raon, sensing the overwhelming energy, turned around.

“Red lightning?”

Seeing the giant crimson bolt fall from a clear sky, he guessed Rimmer had annoyed Glenn and gotten himself hit.

“I guess today’s training will just be with Gambling Monster.”

As it was an everyday occurrence, Raon shook his head and headed back to his room.

—

-That looks a bit intense…

Wrath narrowed his eyes, sensing the unusual aura.

‘Don’t worry. That elf will never die.’

Raon smiled as he removed his outer garment. Even if he and Wrath were to perish, Rimmer seemed like someone who would outlive them all.

-Oh! There’s a sandwich here!

Wrath licked his lips at the sight of a sandwich sitting on the desk.

-This is Helen’s work! Quickly, bring it to me!

Wrath, who loved Helen’s cooking the most, began drooling.

‘Before that, there’s something I need to check.’

-Check? What do you mean?

‘The gift from the Soul Requiem Sword.’

Raon inspected the reward given by the Soul Requiem Sword.

[The Soul Requiem Sword has absorbed the energy of the Soul Severing Orb.]
[The Soul Requiem Sword offers purified energy.]
[All stats have increased by 25 points.]
[A new trait, “Blood Road,” has been created.]

The power contained within the orb hidden by the Demon King had exceeded expectations. All his stats rose by 25 points, and he even gained a new trait.

-Ugh…

Wrath groaned as if he’d only now processed the information.

-It’s maddening! First, it siphons off power from my true form, and now it even feeds on the blood and hatred of humans! It’s a parasitic creature!

‘You’re the parasite here, not me.’

Raon smirked, pointing at Wrath.

‘You experience taste whenever I eat. You can’t do anything without me. If that’s not parasitism, what is?’

-Eh…?

Wrath blinked, at a loss for words.

-What nonsense! I am no parasite! My purpose here is not food but your body and vengeance—

‘So I can just settle for this as a midnight snack?’

Raon dangled a loaf of hard bread in front of Wrath’s face.

-No, no! Don’t eat that! There’s a sandwich right there!

Wrath, trembling, gestured frantically at the sandwich.

‘I need to activate Gluttony first.’

Raon grinned at Wrath and bit into the loaf.

The bread’s tough texture and cloying flavor filled his mouth as though he were chewing on rubber.

-You wretched being!

‘It’s really not bad…’

-Nooooo!

‘Your bias is why you don’t like it. It’s actually not unpleasant.’

-Wretched mortal!

Wrath’s anguished screams continued until Raon finished the sandwich.

—

A gray mist enveloped the fifth training ground at dawn.

Raon stood opposite Martha, drawing the Heavenly Drive.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready?”

Martha brushed back her black hair, which had fallen over her forehead, revealing a fierce smile.

“I’ve been waiting so long I almost rusted. Hurry up.”

She let out a deep breath, eager to begin.

“Let’s start with your swordsmanship.”

Raon motioned with a nod, standing two steps back.

“This is the Tyrant Sword I learned from my father.”

Martha nodded, lifting her sword high above her head.

As she swung down, the atmosphere trembled, and the ground shook. The sheer power was overwhelming.

‘The Tyrant Sword, huh?’

Raon rotated his wrist, observing Martha’s explosive strikes.

‘Still all about raw power. No, it’s even more extreme now.’

Martha’s swordsmanship had always emphasized speed, precision, and brute force. Now she had even incorporated the mastery of overwhelming power that characterized the Tyrant Sword.

-I sense sorrow in that sword.

Wrath furrowed his brows in sympathy.

‘A sword meant to save her mother.’

Martha, knowing she might only have one chance to stab the White Blood Cult Leader, was relentlessly training her overwhelming swordsmanship, focusing solely on the moment she couldn’t afford to miss.

It exuded a chilling yet sorrowful determination—a resolve to kill her opponent even at the cost of her own life.

“How is it?”

Martha, having displayed the full range of the Tyrant Sword, rested her sword on her shoulder.

“It’s recklessly aggressive.”

Raon twirled the Heavenly Drive and stepped forward.

“You’re ready to start.”

“You’ve already analyzed it?”

“Your sword is straightforward, easy to read. I’ve also seen it plenty of times.”

Raon gestured with a flick of his fingers, inviting her to come at him.

“I’ll make you regret it!”

Martha let out a fierce cry as she charged forward, slashing down with her sword. The blade, imbued with the aura of a titan, descended with the force of a storm.

‘The power is undeniable.’

Raon narrowed his eyes, watching Martha’s devastating strike tear through the ground.

‘She doesn’t need to change her approach.’

Unlike other swordsmen, Martha had a precise understanding of the swordsmanship she needed to pursue. Raon thought it better to guide her to further develop her strengths.

*Chiiiing!*

Raon intercepted Martha’s strike with the same form she had used.

*Boom!*

The clash of their swords unleashed a massive shockwave, shaking the entire training ground.

“Ugh…”

Martha staggered back five steps, barely keeping her balance. Meanwhile, Raon hadn’t budged an inch.

“What…?”

Martha bit her lip as she watched Raon calmly raise his sword again.

‘His aura was clearly weaker than mine.’

Raon’s aura had only been at the lower master level earlier, and he hadn’t relied on his monstrous physical strength.

Despite using greater power in the same form, she couldn’t understand why she had been pushed back.

‘I can’t figure it out with just one attempt.’

Grinding her teeth, Martha unleashed the fifth technique of the Tyrant Sword, *Violent Overthrow.*

Her strike descended heavily like storm-laden clouds, bearing crushing weight and force.

Raon once again used the same form to counter her attack.

*Boom!*

The clash of their identical techniques caused another explosion, sending Martha reeling backward.

“No way…”

Martha swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on Raon, who stood unaffected, his clothes untouched by the shockwave.

“Is it balance?”

Her lips trembled as she swung her sword furiously.

“Is the difference caused by something as simple as balance?”

“It’s not simple.”

Raon shook his head calmly.

“The center of balance in the body can change the essence of swordsmanship itself. It’s a crucial factor that makes heavy strikes heavier and light strikes lighter.”

“But I followed the exact movements in the swordsmanship manual!”

Martha stomped her foot in frustration.

“The manual doesn’t know who you are.”

Lowering the Heavenly Drive, Raon opened his eyes and spoke evenly.

“Don’t settle for following someone else’s teachings. Find your own sword and direction. Strong swordsmanship doesn’t create strong people.”

He added that she, of all people, could understand this, as he rolled his shoulders.

“There’s no need to rush. You’re not alone.”

“Ah…”

Martha bit her lip, repeating Raon’s words in her mind. The impatience in her eyes began to fade.

‘Was I that obvious, even to this dense guy…?’

Then again, it would have been hard not to notice.

The White Blood Cult Leader she had faced on the battlefield had grown far stronger, almost mockingly so.

The overwhelming aura she exuded made it feel impossible to even approach her.

Ever since experiencing that crushing power, every day had been a torment.

Even as she trained her swordsmanship and refined her footwork, the thought that she couldn’t save her mother weighed heavily on her. Her nights were haunted by nightmares.

On the surface, she appeared as calm and disciplined as ever, but it was a facade.

Raon’s words, coupled with her trust in him and the rapid growth of her fellow division members, rekindled hope within her—a belief that she could also succeed.

“Yeah…”

Martha nodded.

“The Rakshasa who crawled out of hell isn’t going to stop here!”

With a fierce battle cry, she charged at Raon once more, her sword swinging down.

*Boom!*

By slightly leaning her knees forward and adjusting her arm’s angle, the force behind her strikes increased by half.

The result was astonishing, leaving even her breathless with disbelief.

“You’re not there yet.”

Instead of praising her, Raon beckoned her forward with a flick of his finger.

“I know!”

Determined not to lose the sensation she’d just discovered, Martha unleashed all the forms of the Tyrant Sword. Using Raon as her mirror, she began refining her movements and making them her own.

“Let me make this clear.”

Raon parried her strike and spoke with a calm, piercing gaze.

“You’ve talked about becoming a Grandmaster, but before the next war, the odds of you or any other squad leader reaching that level are slim. It’s practically impossible.”

He shook his head, his tone brutally honest.

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“What else?!”

Martha’s savage yet radiant smile appeared.

“We keep going anyway!”

This wasn’t the reckless defiance of her past. It was a determined pledge to do her best in the face of any challenge.

Only after pushing Raon back by a step did she lower her sword, exhilarated by the realization that she might reach the next level if she consolidated her newfound understanding.

“I’m not done yet. Let’s keep going!”

Just as she prepared to charge at him again, a voice interrupted.

“That’s enough.”

Runaan stepped in front of Martha, shaking her head.

“Why now…?”

“Time.”

Runaan pointed to the sky, now well past noon.

“Ugh, but I was just getting into it…”

“Next is me. Miss Rakshasa, you’re done.”

Runaan declared the session over, firmly shaking her head.

“Who are you calling Miss Rakshasa?!”

Martha scowled at her.

“You called yourself that. A Rakshasa from hell.”

Runaan tilted her head, quoting Martha’s earlier words verbatim.

“You little…!”

“Step aside, Miss Rakshasa.”

Just as Martha and Runaan were about to draw their swords and clash—

*Boom!*

An intense surge of aura rippled from the right side of the training ground.

*Chiing!*

It came from Dorian and Krein, whose swords were blazing with tangible aura.

“That’s aura manifestation.”

“Have they reached the Master level?”

Runaan and Martha’s eyes widened as they watched the blazing aura emanating from Dorian and Krein’s swords.

“Is this… aura manifestation?”

Krein, on the verge of tears, seemed unable to believe what he had achieved.

“My hand’s about to fall off! What do I do? Help me!”

Dorian, trembling in fear at his own aura, shook his hands wildly.

“With this…”

Raon smiled as he watched their auras, each radiating a distinct hue.

“The first piece has fallen into place.”

—

In front of Derus Robert’s faded throne, four gray screens appeared.

“It’s been a while. Or should I say, this is our first time meeting in this form.”

Derus gestured with his fingers toward the figures reflected in the gray screens.

“Derus Robert.”

The White Blood Cult Leader, visible in the first screen, lifted the hem of her dress as she crossed her legs.

“You’ve been deceiving everyone for a long time.”

She frowned, clearly displeased with Derus.

“And yet, didn’t we profit in our own way thanks to him?”

The Fallen One, reflected in the second screen, chuckled faintly.

“Of course, if he had explained things to us, we could have gained even more.”

He muttered regretfully, his eyes glinting at Derus.

*Crackle.*

The third gray screen showed no figure, only a deep, churning abyss of darkness.

“So, why call this meeting of the Five Demons?”

The White Blood Cult Leader waved her hand dismissively at the fourth screen.

“If that sword-crazed old man and the scoundrel are dead, isn’t it just the Four Demons?”

She scoffed, questioning if Derus could even count.

“Whether the Holy Sword Alliance leader lives or dies, the alliance participated in this meeting.”

At Derus’s gesture, the last gray screen shimmered to reveal a sharp-eyed elder with a fearsome presence.

“From now on, I will lead the Holy Sword Alliance.”

The man, Rektor, known as the Blood Sword Master and the Sword Demon, raised his chin confidently.

“If anyone has objections, speak now.”

His fiery gaze burned brightly, illuminating the darkness.