The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman 1233

 Chapter 1233

 

Step.

Following Glenn down beneath the audience chamber, Raon narrowed his eyes slightly.

‘It’s deep.’

Unlike the room he’d reached before through the door on the left, this staircase seemed to go on forever, spiraling down into the depths.

What caught his attention was the staircase itself. Golden flames flickered along each step, lighting the way so brightly that no torch was needed to see below.

‘It’s not hot.’

If they were real flames, they should have radiated heat, but these didn’t. Strangely enough, staring at them didn’t warm his body, but his heart instead.

‘Not a speck of dust.’

The stairs and walls were immaculate, as if they’d been meticulously maintained. This clearly wasn’t some ordinary place.

“This place for training in seclusion was created during the era of the founding head of house and has been preserved ever since.”

Glenn spoke calmly, as if he already knew what Raon was wondering.

“A place of honor, one that only the head of house and their successor are permitted to enter.”

He nodded, emphasizing that the only people allowed to descend this far were the head of house and the successor personally chosen by them.

“Is it really all right for me to be here?”

Raon stopped and looked at Glenn’s back as he continued down the stairs.

“I am not the successor yet.”

That fact made him uneasy.

“Don’t worry.”

Glenn shook his head with a soft smile.

“I’ve acknowledged you.”

He waved it off, as if that alone settled the matter.

“…I see.”

Raon smacked his lips briefly, then resumed following him downward.

“And besides,” Glenn added, glancing below, “this place seems to have acknowledged you as well.”

“This place… acknowledging me?”

Raon tilted his head, unable to grasp what he meant.

“Look at your feet. Then look at mine.”

Glenn gestured toward the staircase, as if the answer would be obvious.

“The stairs… huh?”

Raon followed his gaze, and his eyes widened.

‘They’re different.’

The steps Glenn was standing on merely glowed with golden light. But beneath Raon’s feet, golden flames were actively burning.

Just to be sure, he stepped down one more stair. As expected, only the steps he touched ignited with fire. Since the staircase had been created by the first head of house, it seemed to be responding to the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation, or perhaps to the Ring of Fire itself.

“These golden flames on the stairs…”

Glenn watched the gentle fire rising beneath Raon’s feet, a soft smile forming on his face.

“When I first became the successor and walked down these stairs, I thought that one day I’d gain that light too. The flames the first head of house possessed was this very color, brilliant gold.”

He paused, bringing up the story of the first head of house.

“I was confident back then. People called me the greatest talent in the history of Zieghart, and I had no equal. And yet… his martial art never opened itself to me.”

A chuckle escaped Glenn as red lightning, so different from gold, crackled at his fingertips.

“Meanwhile, you, stricken by an illness that nearly killed you, labeled the least talented among the direct line, have inherited his flame instead. Perhaps it truly is fate. How interesting.”

He looked warmly at the flames burning at Raon’s toes, his smile soft.

“Before your sword, many things in Zieghart, no, in the entire continent, will change. That, too, must be fate.”

As if truly looking forward to Raon’s future, Glenn slowly closed his eyes.

“Fate….”

Raon repeated the word under his breath, clenching his fist.

‘He might be right.’

Gaining the Ring of Fire in my previous life, being reborn into Zieghart with those memories intact, and then being chosen by the Ten Thousand Flames Cultivation, there was no better word for it than fate.

‘Though this guy probably has something to do with it too.’

Raon clicked his tongue while glancing at Wrath, who was yawning exaggeratedly as if bored to death.

What are you staring at?

Wrath rubbed his bulging belly with a round hand, plainly signaling that hunger, looking famished.

‘Nothing.’

Raon chuckled, recalling when he first met Wrath. Back then, the demon king was a terrifying yet annoying existence. Now that they had become inseparable friends, it stirred a strange mix of emotions.

You’re as bland as unsalted salmon.

Wrath scrunched up the bridge of his nose, as if urging him to finish what he’d started.

“We’re here.”

Glenn finally stopped and pointed toward a door at the bottom of the stairs. Unlike the elegant staircase, it was a blunt, square iron door.

“This is the training ground where we’ll train in seclusion.”

As he turned the handle, a soft golden light spilled out, along with a weighty air that pressed in from within.

“Come in.”

Glenn stepped through the door, pushing through the heavy air as if he were used to it

“…Alright.”

Raon cleared his throat and followed him inside.

Whoooosh!

The instant Raon stepped through the door, his body grew heavy.

It felt as if massive iron plates had been strapped to his shoulders and back. No, felt wasn’t the right word. His body truly was heavier.

‘But…’

That wasn’t all.

Raon trembled as he raised his head with effort.

‘This place isn’t just pressing down on the body, It’s exerting pressure on my soul and aura as well!’

Training ground that burdened the body were nothing unusual. In fact, the newly designed fifth training ground used manipulated gravity to impose physical strain.

Here, overwhelming pressure was applied not only to the body, but to the soul and aura as well, suppressing one’s true strength entirely. It was a grotesque training ground, warped beyond reason. A hollow laugh escaped him before he realized it.

“So you’ve already figured out how this place works.”

Glenn nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less, his back still turned.

“Yes. It places pressure on the body, the soul, and even the aura.”

Raon bit his lip lightly, struck by how utterly unreasonable this place was.

“This is a dangerous place that places strain on every aspect of a warrior. And the stronger you are, the greater the pressure becomes.”

Turning around, Glenn met Raon’s gaze, adding that even he found this place taxing. At some point, Heavenly Tremor had appeared in his hand.

“Hmm!”

The moment Raon saw the blade flash, his body reacted on instinct, twisting away.

Slash!

He tried to spin his entire body to evade, but the crushing pressure on his body and soul slowed him. He failed to dodge completely, and his shoulder split open, blood spraying into the air.

“Grandfather…?”

Raon looked at Glenn, pain flaring from his wounded shoulder.

“You’ve already brushed against the absolute realm,” Glenn said coldly, lifting his chin. “There’s no reason for me to hold back anymore.”

It was clear, he had struck Raon deliberately.

“Come.”

Lowering the hand gripping Heavenly Tremor, he beckoned him forward.

“Let’s fight properly now.”

*   *   *

“Congratulations!”

“At last, you’re seated where you truly belong!”

“Palace master, no, we should call you head of house now!”

“That’s right! It’s head of house Karoon now!”

“So the head of house really did trust you all along, Sir Karoon!”

Below the platform in the audience chamber, the executives of the Central Martial Palace showered Karoon with praise. Judging by the gleam in their eyes, this wasn’t mere flattery, they genuinely regarded him as the head of house.

“Not head of house. Acting head of house.”

Karoon clicked his tongue briefly, a stack of documents in hand.

“Mind your words.”

Without even sparing them a glance, he shook his head, telling them not to call him that.

“Oh, come on! What’s the harm?”

“Exactly! There’s no one listening right now.”

“You know what they say, words have a way of coming true. Call you head of house, and you might actually become one.”

“Head of house! I’d like to start calling you that right now!”

Despite Karoon’s warning, the executives kept addressing him as head of house, their smiles broad and sincere.

“Don’t you agree, Sir Roenn?”

One of them waved toward Roenn, who was standing beside Karoon.

“Huhuhuhu.”

Roenn simply laughed, apparently finding the sight of Karoon seated on the throne oddly refreshing.

“That’s not wrong. An acting head of house is still a head of house, after all.”

He wore an easygoing smile, as if he truly didn’t mind calling Karoon the head of house.

“Well, the head of house entrusted it to him.”

Sheryl shrugged, seeming unbothered by addressing Karoon that way.

“There is only one true head of house. I’m nothing more than an acting one, for now.”

Despite Roenn’s and Sheryl’s remarks, Karoon shook his head firmly, as if he still couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Still, with his eyes fixed on the documents in his hands, the way he emphasized “for now” revealed a quiet longing for the throne.

“Ah, brother. You’ve become boring as hell.”

Balder yawned exaggeratedly, mocking Karoon.

“I didn’t call for you. Leave.”

Karoon waved him off dismissively without even looking his way.

“Why don’t you dump those petty papers on the underlings and do something fun instead?”

Balder strode up toward the dais, rubbing his palms together.

“Something fun?”

Sheryl narrowed her eyes, curiosity flickering across her face.

“Father and Raon have gone deep underground for training in seclusion, somewhere our voices can’t reach. That means you can run this house however you like!”

Balder stomped the floor loudly, as if this were obvious.

“Honestly, brother, you’re losing ground to our nephew right now. If we track down Eden and launch an attack now, you could rack up achievements that won’t pale next to his! No, since you’d be doing it as head of house, the credit would be even bigger!”

He flung his hands about, insisting this was the perfect opportunity.

“Huhuhu.”

“If only it were that simple.”

Roenn merely laughed again, while Sheryl crossed her arms and smacked her lips, as if telling him to do whatever he pleased.

“……”

For the first time, Karoon lifted his gaze from the documents and looked at Balder.

“How about it? Sounds great, doesn’t it? If you put me at the vanguard—”

“You’re right.”

Karoon tipped his chin toward Balder, who was grinning ear to ear.

“If we find Eden and succeed in an assault, it would indeed be a great accomplishment.”

“Then—”

“However, I believe the duties of a head of house don’t begin with grand achievements,” Karoon continued calmly, “but with understanding the smallest details of the house first.”

He lowered his eyes back to the documents and shook his head. It truly looked as though he wanted to understand Zieghart more deeply, carefully reading through its current issues and clauses one by one.

“Huh…!”

“Hmm!”

Roenn’s eyes widened, and Sheryl let out an involuntary sound of surprise. Both of them, Glenn’s closest subordinates, seemed genuinely impressed by how much Karoon had changed.

“Sir Karoon…”

“T-that’s right! Starting small before aiming big is the proper way!”

“We’ll follow you no matter what you decide, head of house!”

“We’re with you all the way!”

The Central Martial Palace executives bowed deeply, making it clear they would follow Karoon no matter how he changed.

“Huh….”

Balder stared, mouth hanging open, clearly never imagining Karoon would respond like that.

“You idiot! That’s not the petty, jealous man you used to know anymore!”

Aris smacked the back of Balder’s head and snorted.

“Gah! I knew he changed, but I didn't think it was this much.”

Balder rubbed his head, looking at Karoon with awkward eyes.

“He really does look like a true head of house now…”

He shook his head, saying it gave him chills.

“Not a head of house.”

Karoon turned his gaze back to Balder. With red eyes that closely resembled Glenn’s, he shook his head firmly.

“An acting head of house.”

*   *   *

Claaang!

Raon barely evaded the sword strikes Glenn fired off in rapid succession, biting down on his lip.

‘He’s serious!’

Grandfather is truly trying to kill me.

He wasn’t holding back like before. His sword was filled with murderous intent, as if he didn't care if I suffered grievous injuries.

I had already been cut across the shoulder and waist, and perhaps because of the nature of this place, the pain searing from those wounds was unbearable.

“If you stand there like that, you’ll accomplish nothing and be carried back up half-dead.”

With eyes as cold as if he were staring at an enemy, Glenn thrust Heavenly Tremor forward.

Paaang!

Raon twisted his waist to dodge, but between his injuries and the crushing pressure of this training ground, he failed to avoid it completely. A shallow cut opened along his thigh, and bright red blood dripped from the torn flesh, adding a searing heat to the training ground.

“Haaah!”

Raon drew Heavenly Drive and the Wooden Ring Sword, exhaling a ragged breath.

“Fine. Since you started it….”

He stabbed the two swords into the ground, now speckled with his own blood, and curled the corners of his mouth into a fierce grin.

“Don't regret it!”

 

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