The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman 814

Chapter 814

Editor: Aldbnlf

Raon's eyes trembled slightly.

“Dancing Sword?”

Was it really the Dancing Sword?

The old book that Darkan had handed over contained details about the Dancing Sword.

Not just simple explanations or concepts, but it also meticulously described the principles and methods for mastering and using the Dancing Sword.

‘That man….’

Raon exhaled softly as he looked down at Darkan beneath the book.

'Is he in his right mind?'

Although he had saved Darkan's life, the same was true for Darkan.

If Darkan hadn’t stepped forward to block Lust, Raon might have been captured and dragged into the Devildom.

No, setting all of that aside, Darkan had kept his promise to Raon despite having the power to kill everyone here.

It wouldn’t have been strange for him to demand a substantial reward, yet he instead handed over such a rare martial arts manual. It was baffling.

“What are you thinking?”

Raon narrowed his eyes at Darkan.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

The situation was so absurd that the question slipped out unconsciously.

“Raon?”

“What? What’s wrong now!”

Runaan and Martha lowered their stances as if ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

“Did a sword really jump out of the book or something?”

Lawrence, looking concerned, clasped his hands together in preparation.

“This book….”

Raon pointed at the martial arts manual, his brows furrowed.

“It details the methods of using the Dancing Sword.”

“What?”

Jarek widened his eyes, glancing at Darkan.

“D-Dancing Sword?”

Burren, too, drew in a sharp breath, clearly shocked.

“……”

Rector, on the other hand, looked at Darkan with calm eyes, as if he had somewhat expected this.

“I don’t need it anymore,” Darkan said, waving his hand dismissively.

“You don’t need it?”

“Yeah. I’ve memorized everything in that book so thoroughly I could recite it word-for-word in my dreams.”

He chuckled, saying the book was useless to him now.

“Even so… huh?”

Raon, glancing at the martial arts manual again, frowned slightly.

‘Wait a second. This isn’t Darkan’s Dancing Sword.’

At first, he had been astonished that the manual contained the Dancing Sword, but upon closer inspection, its methods differed slightly from Darkan’s version.

‘This… is more like….’

The more he read the principles and the operational methods, the more it reminded him of someone else’s Dancing Sword, not Darkan’s.

‘The Dancing Sword of the first head of Zieghart!’

The sword of Zieghart's ancestor that he saw in the dream moments ago. His Dancing Sword that drew constellations in the sky to form a barrier—came vividly to mind.

“Darkan.”

Raon quickly scanned the book before calling out to him again.

“Where did you get this book?”

"So it was related after all."

Darkan tilted his chin slightly as he looked at Raon.

“When I saw your Dancing Sword, I had a feeling.”

He smirked while looking at the hilt of the Blade of Requiem.

"That my Dancing Sword and the one from that manual were mixed together."

A black, sword-like current flickered from Darkan’s finger before vanishing.

“Of course, the principles and the method are a bit crude, but the flow—or should I say the image it draws—is the same.”

He smiled, saying he could feel the Dancing Sword described in the book in Raon’s blade.

“Now, let me ask you. Where did you learn that Dancing Sword?”

Darkan’s gaze, filled with curiosity, locked onto Raon. Despite his severe injuries, his obsession with the sword couldn’t be erased.

“…In a dream.”

Raon lowered his eyes, giving an answer that was both true and untrue. There was much he didn’t understand himself, so this was all he could say for now.

“A dream….”

Darkan studied Raon’s eyes before nodding gently.

“Your gaze doesn’t seem like it’s lying, and it makes sense. That book is over a thousand years old.”

He chuckled, saying it would’ve turned to dust long ago without preservation magic.

“A thousand years….”

Raon pressed his lips together, holding the martial arts manual with both hands.

‘It seems my initial guess when I came here was correct.'

Seeing the back of Zieghart’s ancestor in the cave had led him to suspect a connection with the Holy Sword Alliance. Now, the manual and the flower the ancestor had planted seemed to confirm it.

“Where exactly did you find this book?”

Raon closed the manual and stared at Darkan.

“Here.”

Darkan gestured lightly with his chin.

"This place has been land passed down through the Holy Sword Alliance from the beginning, so we only managed it moderately and didn't search it thoroughly. But..."

He smirked, licking his lips.

“After I became the master of the Holy Sword Alliance, I combed through everything, thinking there might be something here. That’s how I found this book.”

Darkan nodded toward the manual.

"Thanks to it, I learned the Dancing Sword and realized that this world is much broader than I knew."

He smiled deeply, saying it was a great stroke of fortune.

"But your Dancing Sword is different from the one described in this book."

Raon tapped the manual lightly. Darkan’s Dancing Sword and the ancestor’s Dancing Sword were similar in appearance but fundamentally distinct.

Each had its own strengths and weaknesses, but overall, the ancestor’s Dancing Sword appeared superior.

“True. The Dancing Sword in that manual is more complete than mine.”

Darkan nodded solemnly, admitting his own shortcomings without hesitation.

“But isn’t it boring to recreate what someone else has already perfected?”

He laughed, saying he’d rather create something uniquely his own, even if it was weaker.

“Ha….”

Raon widened his eyes as he looked at Darkan, who was genuinely enjoying himself.

‘He’s definitely not normal.’

Normally, people want to master a perfected sword, but Darkan wanted to perfect a sword of his own, even if he was lacking in capability.

His way of thinking was fundamentally different from ordinary people.

“But for Zieghart’s direct line to dream of the Dancing Sword described in this book… That's not just strange. It’s very strange.”

Darkan rubbed his chin as he observed Raon.

“There might be a deeper connection between Zieghart and the Holy Sword Alliance than we know.”

He grinned, finding the idea amusing.

“Zieghart and the Holy Sword Alliance?”

Burren let out a hollow laugh, as if he found it absurd.

“Ridiculous!”

His pride in Zieghart was too strong to entertain the idea, and his eyes flashed fiercely.

“Ah, I’m only saying it’s a possibility.”

Darkan raised his hands calmly.

“In any case, I’m no longer part of the Holy Sword Alliance, so it’s not my concern.”

He shook his head, saying it was mere curiosity.

“Really…”

Raon let out a low sigh as he raised the manual containing the Dancing Sword.

“Are you really giving me this book?”

“Surely you don’t want to make me out to be someone who takes back something he already gave?”

Darkan tapped his forehead, telling Raon to get a grip.

“Hmm….”

A groan escaped Raon’s lips unconsciously. To be honest, because Darkan was such an unpredictable man, receiving the martial arts manual didn’t bring joy but rather a sense of burden.

"If you don’t understand, don’t bother trying to."

Darkan chuckled at Raon’s stiff expression.

“You just need to fulfill the promise you made to me—to show a new realm of swordsmanship that doesn’t yet exist in this world.”

“I know that.”

“If, when I go find Glenn, you are still the same as you are now, I’ll make sure to kill you first.”

Without any actual killing intent behind his words, Darkan turned his back.

“I’ll leave as soon as I recover, just as I promised.”

He added that he’d stay far away, so there was no need to worry, and then ascended the mountain.

“You don’t need to feel burdened.”

Rector placed a hand on Raon’s shoulder and shook his head.

“He’s always been like that. He’s probably already forgotten that he gave you the book.”

He laughed, saying there was no need to think of Darkan with conventional standards.

“That does seem to be the case.”

Raon had thought Darkan had changed a little, but upon reflection, he was the same as ever—a sword fanatic who simply wanted to see, learn, and master better swordsmanship.

The King of Essence agrees.

Wrath narrowed his eyes at Darkan’s back.

That guy is one of the few madmen even in the Devildom. He’s just a lunatic obsessed with sword.

He, too, could only acknowledge Darkan's conviction and nodded his head.

“But what should we do about this place?”

The Master of the Stringed Sword shook his head as he looked around at the wrecked Holy Sword Alliance.

“It’s not something that can be fixed in a day or two.”

The Master of the Demon General Sword sighed, saying this would be exhausting for a while.

“If we all work together, it’ll be restored in no time.”

Jarek suggested they start moving and pushed the building debris to the side of the road.

He smiled faintly, relieved that no one had died in the end.

“This is what happens when people live close together.”

Lawrence clicked his tongue lightly.

“If you live far away like me, none of this happens.”

He laughed, declaring that living in a cave made him the ultimate winner.

“Speaking of that cave….”

Raon raised a finger to point in the direction of Lawrence's cave.

“It seems it’s found a new owner.”

Darkan, who had climbed the mountain, entered Lawrence’s cave as if it were the most natural thing to do.

Seeing his confident steps without any hesitation, it seemed he had intended to stay there from the beginning.

“What the—!”

Lawrence clutched his head as he witnessed the scene.

“Why is that crazy man in my cave?!”

He trembled, unable to imagine such a situation.

His expression was worse than that of the people whose homes had been destroyed.

“Why else? This place is a mess, that’s why.”

“As expected of the former alliance master. So wise.”

The Master of the Stringed Sword and the Master of the Demon General Sword giggled as they looked at the ruined Holy Sword Alliance.

"Well, then..."

Raon approached Lawrence, who was screaming, and patted his shoulder.

“Why not live together?”

“Shut up!”

*   *   *

After helping restore the Holy Sword Alliance for three days, Raon finished preparing to return to Zieghart and stepped outside the mansion.

At the exit of the partially restored Holy Sword Alliance, Rector and the swordsmen Raon had sparred with stood in a line.

“You’re so late! Everyone’s been waiting for you!”

Martha narrowed her nose, saying she was tired of waiting.

"You weren't in your room earlier, where did you go?"

Runaan tilted her head, puzzled.

"To the mountain."

Raon pointed to the mountain behind them. He had gone to see Darkan one last time, but the man had already left.

“I went too, but he wasn’t there.”

Rector shook his head, saying he hadn’t seen Darkan either.

“I see.”

There were still things Raon wanted to ask Darkan, but the man had vanished without a trace. As befitting a former master of the Holy Sword Alliance, he seemed to keep his promises like a sword.

“Then we’ll take our leave now.”

Raon clasped his hands together and stood before Rector and the swordsmen of the Holy Sword Alliance.

“You must have found it troublesome, but thank you for sparring with me all this time.”

He bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude with sincerity.

“We enjoyed it too!”

“Yeah. I’ve never faced an opponent like you who felt different every time we crossed swords!”

The Master of the Demon General Sword and the Master of the Stringed Sword laughed, saying they had found it more fun.

“So you’re finally leaving, the greatest leech of all humans I’ve ever met.”

Lawrence exhaled deeply, saying he was relieved Raon was leaving.

"Why do you look sad when the leech is leaving?"

Jarek lifted Lawrence's long hair and tilted his head.

“Your eyes are even welling up.”

“W-Who’s crying?!”

Lawrence gritted his teeth, shaking his head furiously.

“I didn’t say you were crying, but are you really?”

“No! My body’s just in bad shape from sleeping outside for three days!”

Embarrassed, Lawrence lunged at Jarek to cover it up.

“Don’t worry. I’ll come visit again.”

Raon smiled lightly as he watched Lawrence and Jarek bicker.

"Don’t you dare! I’ll kick you out if you come back!"

Lawrence wiped the moisture from the corner of his eyes and waved his hand, telling him never to come back.

Despite his words, he resembled a dog wagging its tail as its owner left, hoping they’d return quickly.

"You've worked hard during this time."

Rector patted the shoulders of Raon, Burren, Martha, Runaan, and Dorian in turn, a proud smile on his face.

“If you maintain the passion and effort you’ve shown here, you’ll surely achieve your goals.”

He nodded firmly, saying he trusted them all.

“Yes.”

“Thank you!”

The group placed their hands over their hearts and bowed deeply to Rector.

“Martha.”

Lawrence, suppressing his sniffles, revealed his softly shining golden eyes.

“I will keep the vow I made before as long as I’m alive. When the day comes, make sure to call me.”

“Of course. You’d better work on getting stronger.”

Martha raised her fist, saying she wouldn’t let such a valuable worker go to waste. Her mood seemed slightly better since coming to this place.

"Dorian. Remember, just because you can see things with your mind’s eye doesn’t mean you can handle everything. And contact me if anything happens."

Jarek gave Dorian one last piece of advice and handed him a carefully polished sword.

“Yes, master….”

Dorian sniffled, bowing his head deeply. Though it had only been a short time, it seemed he had grown attached—snowflake-like tears dropped from his eyes.

“Well then, we’ll be off.”

After everyone had finished saying their farewells, Raon turned to Rector.

“Don’t overdo it.”

Rector hugged Raon and told him to be careful.

“Yes, you too, grandfather.”

Raon embraced Rector in return, smiling softly.

“Me too….”

Runaan, who had been staring blankly into space, suddenly stepped forward and hugged both Raon and Rector at once.

“Huh….”

“You too, really.”

As Raon and Rector laughed at Runaan, who tightly closed her eyes, a fierce tearing sound came from behind.

A sword wrapped in black flames was flying toward them from the direction of the mountain.

Clang!

Raon hurriedly drew Heavenly Drive and deflected the sword that was aiming for the back of his head.

The sword wrapped in black didn't bounce far but emitted a strong sword cry right in front of him.

Wuuuuung!

It was Darkan’s sword. Though his whereabouts were unknown, this was his way of saying a final goodbye. A fitting farewell from the former master of the Holy Sword Alliance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my promise.”

Raon nodded lightly toward the sword floating in the air.

Wuuuuung!

The sword, as if satisfied, flicked its blade briefly and returned to the mountain.

"Dammit! He hasn’t left yet?"

Lawrence, realizing he might have to sleep outside again, ground his teeth in frustration.

“Well, we’ll really be going now.”

Raon bid his final farewell to Rector and the others, then began walking toward the exit of the Holy Sword Alliance.

Before stepping into the dim cave entrance, he glanced back one last time.

He clenched his fist, comparing the Holy Sword Alliance from a thousand years ago to what it was now.

He didn't know what his ancestor was planning or what he expected of him.

The only certainty was that he would walk the path he had chosen for himself.

The King of Essence chooses the path of mint chocolate!

Wrath suddenly interjected, shouting that he would walk the path of mint chocolate.

The moment we return home, prepare a mountain of mint chocolate for me!

‘Just stop already!’

Raon shoved Wrath aside, who was screaming for mint chocolate, and turned his gaze back to the mountain peak.

‘Still….’

He felt certain that one day, he would return to this place.

Whether for a good reason or a bad one, he knew this was not the last time he’d stand here.

“……”

Taking one last look at the view of the Holy Sword Alliance, Raon turned and stepped into the cave.

*   *   *

Derus Robert, clad in a pitch-black long jacket, sat cross-legged on a throne.

He was as still as a statue, gazing at the sun reflected on the sea.

As time passed, the sun sank, and when the dark surface of the sea began to reflect the evening glow, the seawater bubbled, erupting in a massive explosion.

Kuwaaaaaa!

A man with red hair, as if dyed with the sunset, rose above the intense spray of water.

With a face so delicate one could mistake him for a woman, the man turned his cold, piercing eyes upward.

“The vessel has grown stronger.”

Derus, pleased with the man's appearance, raised the hand that had been supporting his chin and applauded.

“As expected, that appearance suits you well, Beorn.”

He called the feminine-looking man by the name Beorn.

“No, perhaps I should call you by your previous name now….”

"That's enough."

Beorn shook his head with indifferent eyes.

"Only two people can call me by that name."

"Is that so."

Derus shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

“You’re ready now, I take it?”

“Of course.”

Beorn nodded as he stared at the violently churning sea.

"I will seize that power with my own hands."

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