The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman 877

 Chapter 877

 

‘What…?’

Raon hurriedly turned to look at Wrath.

‘Are you saying you know them?’

Just a moment ago, Wrath had muttered that he seemed to recognize the monster wielding the flaming sword and whip.

Since Wrath wasn’t one to spout nonsense, if what he said was true, then it was highly likely that the monsters who had attacked the Gray Hammer Guild were demons.

Yes.

Wrath nodded, narrowing his eyes.

But the information is still lacking. Let’s hear more before drawing conclusions.

Wrath wiggled his round hand, gesturing for Raon to make the dwarf talk.

‘Got it.’

After telling Wrath to wait, Raon turned his attention back to the dwarf.

“May I ask your name?”

To ease the dwarf’s tension, Raon started by asking his name.

“My name is… huh?”

The dwarf’s previously shaky eyes widened as if he’d suddenly recognized Raon.

“Raon Zieghart?”

“You know me?”

“Y-you spoke with our chief here before!”

He stroked his soot-blackened beard, explaining that he was present when Raon negotiated with Borgos.

“Ah, my apologies for not recognizing you sooner. My memory…”

Raon bowed his head apologetically. Now that he thought about it, the dwarf’s twisted beard did seem familiar.

“No need to apologize. I didn’t even introduce myself back then, so it’s only natural you wouldn’t remember me. My name is Palentun.”

The dwarf introduced himself as Palentun and nodded

“Our chief often spoke of you when he was bored, so I couldn’t forget you even now.”

Judging by his words, it seemed he wasn’t aware that Borgos had asked Raon for help.

“But why are you here…?”

“Sir Borgos sent me a letter.”

“The chief?”

“Yes.”

Raon nodded and showed him the letter from Borgos.

“That, that letter…”

Palentun’s eyes widened as though he understood everything now.

“You know about it?”

“Y-Yes. The chief was troubled over sending it. I can’t believe he ended up sending it to you...”

His beard trembled as he seemed overwhelmed with emotion just by looking at the envelope.

“And the contents...?”

Raon let out a slow breath and showed him the letter.

“Help us…”

Palentun read the letter, then closed his eyes tightly.

“Our chief believes that everything should be handled by our own hands. Yet after he received that letter from Seipia, he kept muttering about fate... so he sent it to you...”

He seemed to sense Borgos' desperation in the single sentence asking for help, and he sank to his knees, sobbing.

“Please, tell me everything that has happened so far.”

Raon met Palentun’s eyes, saying that he needed the details to help.

“…Alright.”

Palentun nodded and struggled to his feet. From his movements, it was clear he had a severe injury in his abdomen.

“Our Gray Hammer Guild workshop is located beneath the tunnels of Bright Flame Mountain. We built it there to maximize the earth’s heat, but recently, that heat began fluctuating wildly. So we…”

*   *   *
As usual, everyone was immersed in their work, completely losing track of time, when suddenly the furnace flames began raging out of control.

“What’s going on?”

Palentun set his hammer down, frowning.

Forging a weapon required not just intense heat but consistent flames. Yet the fire surged and ebbed erratically, making it impossible to continue working.

“Could something have happened outside?”

Throwing aside his headband, Palentun walked out of the workshop.

Other blacksmiths, holding their scorched hammers, were already gathered, discussing the same issue.

“Sir Palentun, your furnace is acting up too, I see.”

The chief’s apprentice approached, letting out a short sigh.

“Yes. I can’t control the fire.”

“It’s the same for us. The fire keeps flaring up and dying down, making it impossible to control the thickness of the steel.”

The apprentice furrowed his brow, confirming that everyone was experiencing the same issue.

“Surely…”

Palentun gazed at the tunnels designed to draw out the mountain’s heat. Something about the heat emanating from deep below felt off.

“Hmmm…”

“Are the monsters coming again?”

“I’m starting to get scared.”

“What’s all this commotion?!”

As everyone anxiously stared at the depths of the tunnel, Borgos stomped his foot.

“Chief! The flames—this isn’t normal,” Palentun said, pointing to the tunnels.

“It seems the monsters that feed on the heat of this burning mountain are acting up again.”

Borgos furrowed his brow, agreeing with Palentun’s assessment.

“That’s the most likely explanation. Though it’s never been this extreme...”

“Reinforce the walls and prepare for battle!”

He shouted for the walls at the tunnel entrance to be fortified and weapons prepared, predicting that monsters would emerge soon.

“Yes!”

“Understood!”

The dwarves and guild blacksmiths, as if familiar with the routine, lifted their gleaming hammers, their shouts echoing loud enough to shake the mountain.

Two days after reinforcing the walls and readying their weapons, monsters began crawling out of the tunnels, just as Borgos had predicted.

They were used to such attacks, but this time brought something beyond anyone’s expectations.

A swarm of monsters emerged: from giant ones like the Giant Lava Worm, called the Nightmare of the Volcano, and the Red Dragon Turtle that spewed heat capable of melting steel, to giant armored ants impervious to blades, and Ruby Flies that feed on human flesh. Their numbers were endless.

“This is insane...”

“W-Why are there so many of them?!”

“It’s not just a lot, there are loads of huge ones too!”

“How on earth can we fight them all…?”

The dwarves and blacksmiths trembled, gripping their hammers and axes as they watched the incoming horde.

Boom!

As panic spread, a powerful stomp echoed from the highest point of the wall.

“Don’t be afraid! Trust in the walls and hammers we forged with our own hands!”

It was Borgos. His unwavering eyes burned with determination as he roared for everyone to fight.

“I will take the front.”

When he struck with his hammer, crackling with lightning, a golden bolt tore through the body of the leading lava worm.

Rumble!

Encouraged by Borgos’s show of might, the dwarves lined up their gleaming cannons along the wall.

These steel cannons, the dwarves’ ultimate weapon, were even more powerful than magic cannons.

BOOM!

As the cannons fired in unison, the monsters below the walls were obliterated, leaving no trace of flesh behind.

But the sheer number of monsters was overwhelming. Some managed to breach the barrage and reach the walls.

“Stand firm beside the chief!”

Palentun swung his hammer fiercely, smashing the body of a giant army ant climbing the wall.

“Damn pests—this is our land!”

“Trust in our walls! They will not break!”

The other dwarves and guild warriors fought alongside Palentun and Borgos, engaging in a blood-soaked battle.

The fierce combat raged for two full days. Though the walls cracked and the cannons melted from the heat, the seemingly endless monster horde was finally stopped.

“Nothing can stop master blacksmiths.”

Clutching the hole in his abdomen, Palentun grinned.

Despite their injuries, he was relieved that no one had died, thanks to the walls and weapons they’d built.

“Quit talking nonsense and start cleaning up.”

Despite the fact that Borgos’ right arm was so severely injured he could barely move it, he was still the chief. He moved among them, assessing everyone’s condition.

“Why don’t you rest instead, old man?”

Palentun scoffed, kicking Borgos in the rear.

“Do you think I’m as frail as you? I could fight for another month if needed.”

Borgos clicked his tongue and poked Palentun’s wound.

“Gaahh!”

Unable to hold back a scream, Palentun groaned as the other dwarves and blacksmiths chuckled at the scene.

Though everyone was injured, their faces were bright. They smiled with relief, knowing the battle was over, and they could return to forging steel.

But peace did not return.

Woooooo!

The furnace flames became even more uncontrollable, and a spine-chilling roar echoed up from deep within the tunnel.

“It seems the monsters didn’t actually come here to attack us….”

Borgos stood in the meeting room, shaking his head.

“They were fleeing from something below.”

He bit his lip, speculating that some unknown creature was lurking deep underground.

“We need to rebuild the walls before anything else.”

Letting out a long sigh, Borgos declared that they should restore the collapsed fortress walls before doing anything else.

“All right. This time, I’ll make them impossible to breach.”

Palentun pounded on his chest, telling Borgos to trust him.

"You? The one who got a hole in your belly? What kind of work do you think you can do?"

"You're no different, chief! You can't even use your right arm!"

"At least I still have my left!"

Borgos smacked Palentun on the head, telling him to get a grip.

“You go outside and gather materials.”

He jerked his chin, instructing him to head outside and gather repair materials.

“But…”

Palentun narrowed his eyes at the letter in Borgos’ hand.

“What have you been staring at all this time?”

“A damned letter from that pointy-eared bastard.”

“Sterin, huh.”

There was only one person Borgos would refer to as a ‘damned pointy-eared bastard’—Sterin, the Protector of Seipia.

“…I suppose this is fate.”

As if making a decision, Borgos wrote a short message on the letter, then tied it to the leg of the bird that had arrived from Seipia and sent it off.

“We don’t have time to waste! Move as fast as you can! Palentun, take the young ones and gather the materials. No objections!”

“Ugh… Fine. I’ll be back quickly.”

Even though he was still seriously injured, Palentun gathered the materials needed to repair the fortress wall as fast as he could and returned to the workshop.

But by then, it was already too late for many things.

Lava, as if seeping from the abyss itself, had engulfed the workshop, while sword and whip forged from the flames of hell rained down upon the blacksmiths.

Horrifying screams echoed through the underground as human flesh was stripped away and shredded like cloth.

“Run! Don’t come back here!”

Borgos turned around. He struck the ground with his lightning hammer, which had been holding back the demon. The stairs leading to the underground workshop collapsed, and the lava that had been aiming for Palentun subsided.

“Damn it!”

Palentun bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He wanted to stay and fight alongside Borgos, but the young ones behind him weighed on his mind.

“Get out! Hurry!”

He waved desperately at the weeping blacksmiths, urging them to flee.

Just as he was about to step out of the tunnel, a red whip lashed toward him.

Shaaak!

Had he been even a second slower, the whip would have wrapped around his ankle and dragged him back down. Luckily, he managed to pull away in time.

Krrrrumble!

Instead of Palentun, the entrance of the tunnel took the full impact of the whip, collapsing entirely and sealing off the Gray Hammer Guild’s underground base.

Though hellish cries still echoed below, the Bright Flame Mountain was eerily silent, as if nothing had happened.

“Ah…”

As Palentun and the young blacksmiths trembled in fear, Dialon climbed up the mountain.

*   *   *

“…That’s how it happened.”

Palentun recounted everything that had happened and hung his head.

Guilt at not fighting alongside his comrades and fear of those monstrous creatures were written all over him.

“Hm…”

Raon narrowed his eyes as he observed Palentun’s trembling shoulders and the blood seeping through his armor.

‘Is it the one you know?’

He can't say for certain yet, but judging by the ferocity, it seems likely.

Wrath muttered, narrowing his eyes.

‘Then it must be demon.’

Indeed. Among demons, they’re fairly well-known.

‘Which ones?’

Balrogs.

Wrath exhaled a short sigh as he mentioned the name.

In terms of raw power and traits, they’re among the top ten in devildom.

‘They’re that strong?’

Raon’s eyes narrowed. If Wrath, who usually boasted endlessly, spoke this way, it meant they were genuinely powerful.

‘Do they have any weaknesses?’

The King of Essence.

Wrath lifted his nose high with pride.

The mere existence of the Demon King—me—serves as a weakness to them.

He shook his head as if the answer was obvious.

‘You’ve been rambling more than usual these days.’

Ra-rambling? How dare you speak like that to the monarch of—

‘Anyway….’

Raon focused on Palentun, narrowing his eyes.

‘It doesn’t seem like a trap.’

Thinking over the situation Palentun had described, it all felt too sudden and abrupt.

In particular, there was no way anyone could predict Sterin sending a letter to Borgos, followed by Borgos asking for Raon’s help. The odds of it being a trap were practically zero.

‘Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s not the work of those Five Demons bastards.’

Since it could also be the work of the Black Tower, which is related to devildom, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

“What should we do now…”

Palentun clutched his head, saying there was nothing more he could do.

“Let’s go.”

Raon rose calmly to his feet.

“I can’t say for sure if we can save them, but we won’t know unless we go.”

“Hmm…”

Palentun looked up at Raon, his chin trembling.

“You still plan to go after hearing all that? Even with that dangerous creature there?”

"If I just stood by after hearing all that, my mother and my head of house would beat me senseless."

Raon nodded, as if going was the obvious choice.

“Well said.”

Sheryl let out a small chuckle and stepped closer.

“Demon or whatever, it’s not like a blade won’t cut it.”

She loosened her fingers, as if ready to put that to the test.

“Ah…”

A tiny spark of hope flickered in Palentun’s eyes, which had been filled with nothing but despair.

*   *   *

Following Palentun’s lead, Raon headed toward Bright Flame Mountain, where the Gray Hammer Guild’s workshop was located.

“Phew, it’s hot.”

Martha fanned herself with her hand, frowning.

"The geothermal heat is intense here. If it's this hot from here, how hot will that mountain be..."

Burren frowned, looking a little worried.

“Ugh…”

Runaan shrugged her shoulders, already exhausted by the heat, and let out a groan.

“It’s usually not this hot, but it’s definitely gotten hotter lately.”

Palentun let out a deep sigh and shook his head.

“It might be because that bastard is controlling the heat…”

He bit his lip tightly, as if just thinking about it filled him with resentment.

Raon gestured to Wrath with his chin while looking at the distant rocky mountains.

‘So Balrog is a species of demon, right?’

That’s right. They are not only strong but also insanely savage. There are even ones who could have become Demon Kings but didn’t.

Wrath shook his head, calling them maniacs obsessed with battle.

‘They could have become Demon Kings but didn’t?’

There was one who abandoned the throne, saying he wanted to wander around and fight as he pleased.

Wrath snorted, muttering about how arrogant that was.

‘Then…’

Raon clicked his tongue briefly.

‘The dwarves must all be dead.’

Not necessarily.

‘What?’

If it were those shitty ears who had been attacked, they’d all be dead. But since they’re dwarves, they might have survived.

‘What do you mean?’

As that dwarf said dwarf, the Balrog wields a flaming sword and whip. Those weapons are born with them, but they can also be enhanced.

‘Then…’

They might have kept the dwarves alive to enhance their weapons.

He said that there was a high possibility of that and shook his head.

‘Let’s hope that’s the case.’

Raon exhaled heavily and turned to Palentun.

“Let’s pick up the pace a bit.”

“Certainly.”

Despite his injuries, Palentun nodded without hesitation.

“Let’s go.”

Raon took the lead. He led everyone with the wind of Garunua and climbed the Bright Flame Mountain.

“This… this is the place.”

Palentun pointed to the twisted black ground, which looked as though lava had hardened over it, his eyebrows quivering.

“This was originally the entrance to our Gray Hammer Guild.”

He bit his lip as he stared at the collapsed ground.

“This was an entrance?”

Burren let out a disbelieving breath.

“It’s completely sealed off. It’s going to take some effort to get inside.”

Martha gritted her teeth in frustration.

“I hate this place…”

Runaan scattered shards of frost to help shield everyone from the oppressive heat.

“I-I only came here to restock the supplies…”

Dorian’s jaw trembled as he struggled to comprehend the situation.

“You remember that sword? The one Sir Borgos’ apprentice made for you?”

Raon nodded toward Dorian’s sword.

Dorian had had many chances to replace it, but he’d stuck with that sword because he liked it the most.

“Ugh, I know.”

Clutching his sword tightly, Dorian nodded heavily.

Hoo.

Raon glanced at the ground below, twisting his lips.

‘There really are some monstrously strong things down there.’

Beneath them lurked creatures that wielded lava as though it were water. Their presence and heat were so overwhelming that he couldn't sense the vitality of others.

"Your priority is to rescue the dwarves."

He gestured toward the team leaders and Dorian, then placed his hand on Heavenly Drive.

“Let’s begin.”

Raon lifted his chin and stomped the ground.

Kuuuuuung!

A shockwave erupted, as if shaking the entire Bright Flame Mountain, and from deep within the tunnels, crimson flames surged upward.

“F-Fire!”

“Get back!”

“Evade!”

The warriors sent by Dialon and Adis recoiled in fear from the violently rising flames.

But Raon reached out instead, directly toward the blazing heat.

Hwaaaaaak!

A silver frost burst from his hand, freezing the raging flames and oppressive heat in an instant. It was the miraculous power of a Transcender who wielded the mana of nature.

Crunch!

Raon crushed the frozen fire, then swung his frost-covered hand, tearing open the gates of hell. White steam billowed as the suffocating heat finally began to subside.

"Follow me."

Raon revealed his cold eyes and unsheathed Heavenly Drive. The voice of an absolute being who had reached Transcendence rippled through the air, calming their emotions.

"No one will die."

 

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