The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman 1063

 Chapter 1063

 

“Hmm….”

For the first time since I was born, I embraced another human’s body. It was so light it felt as if it might fly away, and so soft it seemed it might be crushed, that I found it difficult to move my arms.

“Your expression is awkward. Like that… Ugh!”

Mother furrowed her brow and pressed a hand to her temple.

“It’s useless anyway. All you can do is watch!”

A conversation of souls. Unlike me, mother could not completely devour a soul, so sometimes clashes like this with the body’s original owner occurred. Of course, such resistance would soon disappear.

“You can do it, right?”

After imprisoning the body’s owner at the bottom of the soul, mother placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Of course.”

I ignored the foul stench that was smoldering up from deep within my chest. Igniting the desire to see Mother’s smiling face again, I nodded my head.

* *    *

I headed to Zieghart with Martha. It seemed the fragments of memory had taken hold properly, as she regarded me as her savior.

“Is this… really the place…?”

Perhaps frightened by the towering gate that seemed to touch the sky, Martha’s hands trembled. I felt the same, but cloaking myself in Denier’s memories and emotions, I nodded with composure.

“It will be fine.”

I tightly held Martha’s small hand and Holding tightly to Martha’s small hand, I crossed the grand gates of Zieghart and entered the audience chamber where Glenn awaited.

The Destructive King of the North Glenn Zieghart. The man evaluated as the strongest among the heads of the Six Kings and Five Demons indeed possessed a pressure and presence so chilling it made my skin crawl.

It felt as if his sword might fall upon my head at any moment, and a shiver of cold sweat ran down my spine.

“And that child?”

Glenn asked first about Martha.

“She is a child who lost her village and parents to the White Blood Religion. She was in danger while pursuing them alone, and I rescued her and brought her here.”

I told him that if I had left Martha alone, she would have eventually died at the hands of the White Blood Religion.

“Her talent in swordsmanship is not bad, and her disposition is pure, so I wish to take her in.”

As mother had instructed me, I said I wanted to make Martha my adopted daughter, lowering my head.

“M-my name is Martha.”

Feeling that the talk was about her, Martha also knelt beside me.

“……”

Glenn silently gazed at Martha and me.

“Denier.”

“Yes.”

I raised my head, feeling my heart, though not my own, pounding as if it might burst.

“It is a heavy matter. If you are to do it, then take responsibility to the very end.”

Glenn nodded, as though giving permission.

I had prepared several answers suited to Denier’s character, thinking refusal might come, but Glenn granted permission without further words.

It wasn’t out of annoyance, but rather that he trusted me. No, he trusted Denier.

“Understood. I will take responsibility to the very end.”

Responsibility. Without even knowing how heavy that word was, I nodded.

*   *   *

As befitting the organization under Denier’s lead, the Wise Martial Palace was filled with warm people.

However….

“Get lost!”

Martha could not give her affection to the people of Wise Martial Palace.

She cursed at the maids, shoved away the butlers, and always walked around with a scowl.

Not because she was an evil human. In her eyes now, all people looked like White Blood Religion fanatics hiding their identities.

“It’s all right. It’s all right.”

I held Martha tightly as she shed tears while shouting at others, telling her it would be alright.

Perhaps thanks to mother’s manipulation of her memories, Martha followed only me.

At times, she seemed embarrassed or awkward, but she did not avoid my touch.

The warmth of a person was more comforting than the heat of a stove. Through Martha, I came to understand humans a little more.

As I assisted mother’s work, I also found my own joy, and thus those were happy times.

But along with that came the torment of the soul, the pain of deceiving Martha, and everyone in Zieghart. It felt like this was the spiritual being called a human conscience.

As Martha’s father and the master of Wise Martial Palace, each time I went on missions I visited mother.

I reported Zieghart’s information, and by drinking mother’s blood and the blood of warriors, I accumulated the strength and experience I was meant to have as the Thirteenth Apostle.

“Excellent!”

Mother always praised me. That smile dulled, if only slightly, the blade called conscience.

“Father!”

Whenever I returned from missions, Martha would come out to the main gate to greet me.

It filled me with pride as though I truly had gained a daughter, but the blade of conscience, once dulled by mother, grew sharper again and stabbed my soul.

As the wounds on my soul continued to increase, I heard the story that Martha had been defeated by Raon and returned.

I went to comfort her, but contrary to my expectation, she did not get angry. Instead, with a relieved face, she cut off her hair. From that day on, Martha changed. She began to trust Raon, gained a teacher she followed with her heart, and found friends with whom she shared camaraderie.

My insides boiled, and I could not sleep.

My daughter. The precious daughter I had raised without letting a single drop of water touch her hands was trusting others besides me, and it annoyed me.

Jealousy. For the first time, I felt the emotion called jealousy. I was angry, but I became a little closer to being human.

Because I thought of myself as Martha’s true father, the jealousy did not last long, and I only wished for Martha to live happily.

The part about how Martha might one day become mother’s new body, I buried deep beneath my memories.

Every time Martha smiled, I felt a happiness as if I had really given birth to that child.

Even arguments with Karoon, even Balder’s foolish talk became enjoyable, and the sight of my subordinates following me gave me a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Living in Zieghart, I was no longer the lump of blood called Number 4,404, but was becoming a human being.

However, the more attached I became to Zieghart, the deeper the anguish I was thrown into.

Because as much as I loved mother, I had also come to love Martha and this house, and so I could not clearly decide what I ought to do.

The life of a Thirteenth Apostle, the life as Denier, the life as a father, and the life as number Four Thousand Four Hundred and Four.

Born a monster, raised a monster, and having learned society through human memories, I did not know how to find the answer.

While I spent time drowning in anguish, I happened by chance to overhear Raon and Glenn’s conversation.

Truthfully, though I had felt a little jealousy because of Martha, I had no real interest in Raon himself. I had merely, for the sake of acting as Denier, sent him occasional pitying glances.

Even when Raon was kidnapped to Eden and the three-way battle between the White Blood Religion and Zieghart broke out, I was carrying out another mission, so I had no particular thoughts about him.

But when I heard Raon’s goal, I was greatly shocked.

The reinstatement of Sylvia as a direct line.

Anyone in Zieghart who heard those words would have burst into laughter.

After all, prestigious houses drew a vast line between direct and collateral, making it absolutely unreachable.

Especially since Sylvia had abandoned the direct line on her own and left, it was considered impossible for her to return.

But Raon uttered that impossible goal, strove toward it, and in time, achieved results so undeniable that even the direct line who despised him acknowledged it, and reinstated Sylvia as direct line.

It was shocking. The human common sense I had known was breaking apart.

Raon’s drive to move his body before worrying moved me to respect.

From the day Raon became a direct line, I always watched him.

“Raon Zieghart has become a direct line of Zieghart. And the information brought in by the Shadow Agents is….”

For the first time, I gave mother false information.

Fortunately, the White Blood Religion had no spies within the executives of Zieghart. If a rage worm had been inside me, I would have been long dead.

“Well done.”

Mother nodded and smiled at me, even though I had spoken lies.

Strangely, her smile was unlike the ones I had seen before, unsatisfying, hollow. As if no emotion existed at all.

“Ah, there is one more thing. This time, in the Central Martial Palace….”

I continued to speak, unfolding more information to mother.

“I see. Then we must withdraw the fanatics from there. Well done.”

Mother smiled again, but that smile too was empty. It was nothing more than a smile to show me.

Now that I thought of it…

At some point, Mother only ever repeated the words “well done” to me. I had never heard her say the kinds of things a real mother would.

When I came to feel the emptiness in mother’s smile and words, the face of Martha, who always welcomed me and smiled brightly, came to mind.

The contrast was so stark that my chest ached with cold pain.

From that day on, I began to alter the information I gave mother, within limits where I would not be exposed.

Living two lives was unbearably difficult and painful, but all the pain vanished just by seeing Martha’s smile.

I created a martial art that erased bloody energy and could drive out mother’s soul, and I passed it on to Martha. Though it was a difficult martial art, Martha followed along well.

“Martha.”

After finishing teaching swordsmanship and sharing a meal with her, I called her name.

“Yes?”

With pasta sauce smeared at the corner of her mouth, Martha smiled with her eyes. A smile she showed only to me.

“That is….”

I wanted to say it. That I was not the real Denier Zieghart, but an artificial being created by the White Blood Religion’s leader.

But I also wanted to tell her that I thought of her as my real daughter.

“No.”

I lightly laughed and shook my head. The thought of Martha’s smile turning into anger and hatred stopped my lips from opening.

“You’re bland.”

“I do eat a bit bland.”

I diverted the subject with pointless words, secretly biting my tongue.

For now, I was somehow enduring, but what would I do if mother summoned me as the Thirteenth Apostle? The thought was unbearably painful, frightening.

I was a coward who didn’t want to see mother’s disappointment, nor Martha’s disappointment.

Not knowing about today’s war with the White Blood Religion was a kind of happiness.

Had I known, I would have endlessly agonized over whether to tell mother or not.

In truth, I didn’t even want to participate in the war itself, so when Glenn didn’t summon the Wise Martial Palace, I honestly felt relieved.

But when I saw Martha, swinging her sword and screaming as she cut down the bloody demons, my soul roared violently.

“Martha….”

Martha, wearing a fiend-like expression, was crying inwardly. It was a face that only me, who had raised her since childhood, could recognize.

Looking at Martha crying out, I ended the choice I had agonized over for so long. I realized where I had to go.

Glenn Zieghart. A man who had not given birth to me, but treated me as his son, sent me and the Wise Martial Palace to the battlefield with eyes full of trust, telling me to be sure to help Martha.

What he had said when I adopted Martha came to mind.

Responsibility.

Yes. As a father, I had to take responsibility.

I helped Martha so that she could face the Tenth Apostle, and in the end, Martha accomplished her revenge with her own hands.

“I’m sorry…”

The Tenth Apostle looked at Martha, spoke his apology, and then collapsed. It felt as if he was apologizing not only to Martha, but also to me, who had to live a false life.

After hearing the Tenth Apostle’s last words from Martha, I ran with Martha toward the battlefield where mother and the Five Kings’ Transcenders were fighting.

Mother was engaged in a battle far more dangerous than I had imagined, and at times, because of Raon, she was driven into a grave crisis.

In order not to die, she used the word she had originally prepared for Glenn, the word I absolutely did not want to hear.

“Come!”

The word to summon me as the Thirteenth Apostle. Mother called me, telling me to kill Lecross, the greatest threat here.

Whoooosh!

In the end, I shed Denier’s skin and became the Thirteenth Apostle, stabbing Lecross in the chest from behind.

In truth, Balder’s dagger was too slow to hinder my blade. The reason I did not kill Lecross was my own choice.

After throwing the dying Lecross toward Raon, I seized Martha, who might have taken reckless action, and placed her under paralysis.

I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.

I could not properly meet the eyes of my daughter, filled with shock and sorrow, but I could not avoid it either.

Grasping Martha by the collar, I stepped back behind mother.

“Give Martha back!”

Raon and the Transcenders of the Five Kings were relentless and strong. They fought against mother and me, who had drunk the White Soul Elixir, not only with aura and mana but even burning their vitality.

Especially Raon Zieghart, he grew as he fought, using growth beyond human limits. I had anticipated much, but this part was beyond expectation.

I suffered great injuries from Raon, and in order to survive, I shoved fallen blood into my mouth, forcibly recovering my stamina.

In the end, mother drove back Raon and the Transcenders of the Five Kings, but her body seemed to have reached its limit, unable to move.

Contrary to what I had expected, mother said she would seize Martha’s body here and now. Everything I had prepared became useless.

“You…. I’m going to kill you too!”

Martha spat out the curse she had been holding in toward me.

Her cry as a daughter pierced me with unbearable pain, but for her sake I had to keep going.

I handed the cursing Martha over to mother.

Whether it was true that she had achieved growth of the soul, I did not know, but with only a few drops of blood, she pressed down Martha’s soul and began to seep into her body.

Looking into Raon’s eyes, who refused to give up until the end, I steeled my resolve.

As Mother shoved blood into Martha’s mouth and tried to crush her soul, I turned my back and drove my sword into mother’s heart.

Puuuck!

In the midst of spiritual connection, mother could not react to my blade and yielded her chest as it was.

“Ah…?”

The moment Martha opened her eyes, she widened them at the sight of my sword piercing the White Blood Religion’s leader’s heart.

“D-Damn it….”

Mother grasped the sword that had pierced her heart, frowning at me for the first time.

“What is the meaning of this!”

“For humans, family and memory are precious beyond measure. We are fiends who steal them.”

I shook my head, saying I could no longer live this way.

You foolish bastard! Do you think I just left you be!”

As Mother’s eyes flashed, an excruciating pain struck my soul, as though being smashed into rock.

“Kuheuk!”

I coughed up pitch-black dead blood, gasping for breath. As I saw fragments of my organs in the blood, I realized she must have inscribed a sorcery upon my soul to sever my life.

Honestly, it was something I had been expecting.

“What you have done now has no meaning at all.”

Mother narrowed her eyes, saying it was nothing but a waste of time.

“No. It has meaning. I, who was born a monster….”

I released the paralysis on Martha’s body and held her hand tightly, as I would when she had nightmares.

“…can die as a human.”

I, looking not at mother but at Martha, I formed a smile in which Denier’s life was embedded.

“Martha. Now it’s your turn.”

 

 

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