The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman
Chapter 899:

“Huff! Huff!”

Trevin wiped the cold sweat from his forehead as he ran toward the summit of Northgaze Mountain.

‘Wh-What the hell was that…?’

Just moments ago, Raon had suddenly leapt out from the darkness and assaulted the Iron Division swordsmen and Dorian.

And it wasn’t an exaggeration—he literally ‘smashed- Dorian’s head with his sheathed sword. There was no better word than ‘assaulted.’

‘He’s insane.’

To think he would crack open the head of a trusted subordinate just because he badmouthed him from a distance? Raon had to be crazy.

‘I was almost next.’

Thanks to Dorian being struck first, Trevin had barely managed to defend and escape, but the force Raon had poured into his sword sheath was so strong that his hand still ached.

Raon had said that they just needed to endure the night on Northgaze Mountain while eating Nadine Bread. So why was he launching surprise attacks?

‘Wait. Come to think of it…’

When they were climbing the mountain, the Light Wind Division swordsmen had gone pale like they’d lost their souls, and just earlier, Dorian was drooling like he was out of his mind.

Putting the pieces together, it wasn’t that Raon had gone crazy—this ‘was- the training all along.

‘Yeah. That must be it.’

There was no way someone like Raon would consider “just enduring” as field training.

It was clearly a surprise attack training exercise from the start.

‘Kyaaaagh!’

“Hey, Iron Division! Let us rest a little—urk!”

“You lunatic! Don’t unsheath your sword!”

From below, powerful shockwaves and screams echoed. Raon seemed to be attacking both the Iron Division and the Light Wind Division indiscriminately.

‘There’s no point in running.’

Even at full sprint, the screams were getting closer. There was no escaping Raon.

‘Wait a second…’

He said it was field training.

And in field combat, concealment and cover are the most important. Raon likely wanted them to hide and suppress their presence, or counterattack.

‘Hide.’

Trevin made a quick decision. He erased his presence and crouched beneath a thick patch of bushes under a tree.

‘Hm?’

But someone was already there.

“Krein?”

The most carefree member of the Light Wind Division, Krein, was sitting with his knees drawn in, hands trembling violently.

“You’re hiding too?”

“…Hiding?”

Krein tilted his eyes strangely, as if Trevin had said something absurd.

“Hiding is pointless. I’m just… eheh…”

He rocked back and forth, laughing creepily.

“I’m just waiting to get hit later.”

“W-What do you mean, get hit later?”

“You’ll understand soon enough, Division Leader. This isn’t training.”

Krein closed his eyes, saying running and hiding meant nothing.

“Wait, what do you—”

‘Kyaaaagh!’

“Shouldn’t the squad leaders be spared at least, you psycho?!”

“Division Leader? I was going to reach enlightenment tomorrow—urk!”

Screams burst out from just below them.

“Ugh…”

Krein clutched his head with his fingers, saying it was all over.

“…”

Trevin gripped his sword and lowered his stance, calmly breathing in to prepare for a counterattack when Raon appeared.

“It’s useless.”

Krein chuckled at him.

“That man… this isn’t training, he’s just out to destroy everyone…”

As Krein shook his head, Raon’s sword sheath burst through the bushes.

‘Whack!’

Krein took the sheath to the gut and tumbled down the mountain without even letting out a scream.

‘I expected that.’

Trevin had predicted Raon would go for the noisy Krein first, so he prepared to defend against the next strike.

“Come on…huh?”

Just as he was about to block and flee like before, Raon unsheathed his sword.

‘Goooo!’

A crimson [Aura Manifestation] surged over the silver blade.

“A-Aura Manifestation?”

Unlike him, who had just reached Grandmaster level, Raon’s aura was complete—and the power flowing from his sword far surpassed his own realm.

“W-Wait, Raon! I can’t block that yet!”

Trevin shook his head and shouted, saying he wasn’t ready.

“That’s exactly why we’re doing this.”

Raon smiled coldly and swung his sword downward.

“Gaaaaah!”

Trevin tried to gather all his strength to block, but Raon’s superior technique and aura overwhelmed him instantly.

[You filthy demon bastard…]

[That man… he’s not training. He’s just beating us senseless…]

As the flame surged through his guard, Dorian and Krein’s words echoed in his head.

‘They were right… this guy…’

Trevin swallowed dryly as Raon brought his sword crashing down.

‘He’s just a madman!’

Trevin’s sword was knocked from his hand, and Raon’s blade struck the top of his head.

‘Thunk!’

He collapsed backward from the blunt edge of the sword. As his vision blurred like mist, he saw Raon smiling.

“Damn it…”

I never should’ve come here…

* * *

‘That should be enough of an introduction.’

Raon brushed off his hands after conducting concentration training until sunrise for the Light Wind Division and Iron Division.

They had all passed out. Time to go down the mountain.

– “Introduction?”

Wrath let out a dumbfounded snort.

– “You ‘beat them all into the ground’! How is that an introduction?!”

He furrowed his brow, calling him insane for calling that an ‘introduction.’

‘I feel bad too, but it couldn’t be helped.’

Raon clicked his tongue, looking at the unconscious swordsmen.

‘The battles ahead will be far worse than this.’

With a full-scale war against the Black Tower likely, he had to raise both divisions’ combat power as much as possible before then.

It was brutal now, but the training would help them tremendously later.

– “Well… I guess you’re not wrong…”

Even Wrath had nothing to say to that.

‘Let’s go down. I got to enjoy some action, so I’m satisfied.’

Raon dusted off his clothes and turned toward the mountain path.

– “That’s a good ide—wait! Did you just say ‘enjoyed’?! So it ‘was- for fun!”

Wrath flailed his hands furiously.

‘Just a feeling.’

– “Feeling, my ass! You just beat everyone senseless to relieve stress! You twisted—”

‘What do you want for breakfast?’

– “Huh? Oh!”

As soon as breakfast was mentioned, Wrath’s pupils spun. He had already forgotten the beatings.

– “It’s morning… I’m in the mood for something light—like lobster.”

‘Light… lobster…’

Muttering at the absurdity, Raon descended the mountain. Just as he was about to return to the annex, a familiar face approached from the right.

“Long time no see.”

Denier smiled and waved his right hand.

“Lord of the Black Tortoise Palace.”

Raon turned and bowed.

“What brings you here?”

Since there was quite a distance between the Fifth Training Grounds and the Black Tortoise Palace, his presence was unusual.

“I was on my way back and heard the rumor that you defeated the Demonblade. I wanted to congratulate you.”

Denier nodded, saying it was an extraordinary feat. His gentle smile radiated genuine goodwill.

“I just got lucky.”

Raon shook his head, saying it wasn’t a big deal.

“Even if he was mentally compromised by the demonic energy, the Demonblade is still the Demonblade. You changed history.”

Like Balder, Denier told him not to downplay his achievement and nodded.

“…”

Raon silently looked into Denier’s eyes.

“In three days, you’ll become a Palace Master. Younger than Martha, no less—I still can’t believe it.”

He joked that he wouldn’t be able to speak casually anymore.

“I still have a long way to go.”

“That kind of humility made you who you are. Keep walking the same path—and take care of Martha for me.”

After glancing at Northgaze Mountain, Denier waved and left.

‘Denier Zieghart.’

Raon narrowed his eyes as he watched him walk away.

‘What’s he really thinking?’

Recalling his words, expressions, and gestures—there seemed to be no ulterior motive. It was just an uncle congratulating his nephew.

Though Raon had taken precautions against this mysterious man, the sincerity in his calm eyes made him feel even more uneasy.

– “That guy…”

Wrath scowled, watching Denier’s unwavering gait.

– “It’s like he’s a different person every time I see him. I can’t read him at all.”

Even Wrath said he had never encountered a person with such an unreadable nature.

‘He’s complicated.’

Raon clicked his tongue and returned to the annex. As soon as he opened the door, Sia ran up and hugged him.

“Raon! A kid shouldn’t sleep outside!”

Sia pouted, scolding him for not coming home.

“You didn’t come back, so I slept here with a sleeping bag.”

Silvia sighed, saying she couldn’t stop her.

“Thanks to that, I got to sleep with Sia after a long time. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Edgar chuckled as he rolled up the sleeping bags.

“Breakfast is ready. Hurry up and wash up.”

Helen waved her hand, saying she’d prepared a hearty meal.

– “Khh! What a mouthwatering aroma!”

Wrath wagged his tail as he licked his lips.

“Got it.”

Looking at the smiling family and maids before him, Raon clenched his fist.

‘Denier. No matter what you’re planning or what you do…’

I will protect these people.

* * *

The dried-up riverbed of the plains, tainted by violet demonic energy.

A black shadow rose over the cracked terrain like a spiderweb.

The shadow writhed, ignoring the brilliant moonlight, and vomited out a blue-haired woman in a robe.

‘Step.’

The woman narrowed her eyes as she looked at a shard of ice embedded in the ground.

“He died here.”

She recognized the Demonblade’s remains as she gently touched the ice.

‘Wooooong.’

When she lowered her hand, a warm white light flashed—and the lingering demonic energy sealed in the silver shard gathered into a violet orb in her palm.

“Less than expected.”

She frowned at the shimmering sphere.

“You tried to use others’ resentment, so you can’t complain.”

She spoke coldly to the Demonblade and tucked the orb into her robe.

“How far will you go… Raon Zieghart?”

As she whispered his name, she disappeared with the blue wind, leaving only the empty ice behind.

* * *

‘Rumble…!’

Zieghart’s grandest dueling arena—reserved for the family head—opened magnificently.

Normally even swordsmen were barred entry, but today, even common citizens were allowed to pass through its towering gates.

“Didn’t they just get promoted to a Division a while ago? And now a Palace already?”

“From division to palace in less than ten years, right?”

“Seriously? Then this must be a record.”

“What’s more surprising is that no one objects. Their skill and achievements speak for themselves.”

“Well, they ‘did- defeat the Demonblade.”

As they climbed the arena stands, people chatted about the Light Wind Division’s promotion.

“What do you think?”

In the VIP seats, Balder nudged Karoon with his elbow.

“Your nephew’s nipping at your heels—are you okay with that?”

He grinned and shrugged.

“The Light Wind Division’s handled many missions admirably. If anything, this promotion is overdue.”

Karoon calmly shook his head, showing no sign of jealousy.

“And honestly, I don’t care what happens to them. It has nothing to do with me.”

He waved dismissively.

“Huh? Funny—word is you rushed back as soon as your mission ended. Left a few people behind, too.”

Balder snorted.

“Is that so? No wonder you returned so fast.”

Denier chuckled with amusement.

“Ahem. Nonsense.”

Karoon brushed them off and waved his hand.

“Haaah…”

Silvia pressed her hands together on her knees and sighed deeply.

“I’m so nervous, I think my heart’s falling out!”

She trembled, unable to compose herself.

“Dear… do something…”

She turned to Edgar, but—

“Grrrkk…”

Edgar was foaming at the mouth from nerves.

“You idiot!”

Silvia’s gaze turned icy, and she smacked him on the back of the head.

“Raon! When is Raon coming out?”

Sia leaned on the railing, calling his name.

“As the star of the day, he’ll come out a bit later.”

Aris sat next to Silvia and nodded.

“Huh? Sis?”

Silvia blinked at Aris.

“You’ve already finished your training?”

“Not yet.”

Aris calmly shook her head.

“To absorb the Dragon Heart’s mana, I still need to raise my condition further. It’ll take a while. But…”

She smiled softly as she looked down at the arena.

“I can’t miss the day my dear nephew becomes a Palace Master.”

Aris leaned back in her seat like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you…”

Silvia smiled, relieved to see the old Aris again.

“I still can’t believe it. That our young master is becoming a Palace Master…”

“I know. We just prayed for him to grow up healthy.”

“Maybe our prayers were too strong—he grew up ‘too- well.”

Helen and the maids recalled Raon’s childhood, tearing up.

“He was different from the start.”

Judiel gave an awkward smile, remembering their first meeting.

“What was Raon like? Tell me, please?”

Sia began asking the maids.

‘Rumble…!’

The left gate of the arena opened, and a powerful vibration swept the area.

Amid the rising smoke, the martial forces of Zieghart entered one by one.

From the newly established Wise Star Squad to the Sky Sword Division directly under the family head—all the warriors not currently on missions or guarding the family gathered in a thunderous formation.

‘Boom!’

As the martial forces finished entering, the gate guards stomped and turned to the center.

“The Sky of Zieghart enters!”

At the shout, all swordsmen and spectators turned their backs and knelt.

“We greet the Lord!”

“Rise. Today’s main character isn’t me.”

Glenn calmly walked onto the stage and raised his hand.

Unlike usual, he hadn’t waited to appear last—he arrived before the Light Wind Division and was already seated on the throne.

‘Rumble.’

The swordsmen stood and returned to formation, and the spectators let out quiet sighs as they sat down.

“Let’s begin.”

At Glenn’s gesture, Chad of the Shadow Agents stepped forward and bowed.

“We will now commence the promotion ceremony. Light Wind Division, enter.”

At his words, the still-closed right gate opened with a grand rumble.

‘Boom!’

The gate guards stomped louder than even for Glenn’s entrance and raised their heads.

“Entering are the Light Wind Division and their leader—who has slain dragons and defeated the Demonblade!”

Under the resounding announcement, solemn footsteps echoed.

Despite numbering over thirty, their footsteps blended as one.

Crossing the shadowy threshold of the arena entrance, the Light Wind Division finally revealed their full presence.

Clad in black ceremonial uniforms, with white swords at their waists, they emitted a heavy presence—like heroes marching to war.

“Honor to the swordsmen who have upheld the name of Zieghart!”

At Chad’s shout, the swordsmen split to the sides and drew their swords.

Pointing their reversed blades to the ground, they formed a path of reverence. Bathed in sunlight, Raon and the Light Wind Division entered through Zieghart’s sword salute.

(T/N: Fking chills man!!!!)