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The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman

Raon’s entire life had been lived as a dog on a leash. Through a twist of fate, he obtained a new life. Wrath remained in the wreckage of his destroyed leash. Finally capable of standing on his own feet, he decided to live life by his own will. He would slay anyone standing in his way… Even if they were a god

Writing_Ant · Fantasía
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160 Chs

Chapter 43

Rimmer smirked, watching Raon and the third prince face each other in the arena. He was looking forward to it so much that he unconsciously started humming.

'And the rewards.'

He was also looking forward to the reward that he was going to earn from the bet with Owen.

He wasn't even considering the possibility of Raon losing the match.

"You look like you are enjoying yourself."

Duke Tartan came to stand next to him without showing his emotions.

"Of course I am. Watching young talents clashing against each other with everything they have can't be anything but fun."

"The crazy sword demon has changed a lot."

"A ruffian like you became a good-looking duke. Of course I've changed as well."

Rimmer smirked at Duke Tartan.

"I'm assuming the reason you approached the prince yesterday was also because of this match, right?"

"Of course."

"What's your plan? Why are you doing something so troublesome, which you normally don't like?"

Duke Tartan turned towards him and emanated a powerful pressure. He looked like he was about to cut him down the moment he tried anything strange.

"It's an opportunity for them to grow. Unlike the Five Demons, there won't be many chances to fight against one of the Six Kings' children."

Rimmer responded without looking back at him. It was a light voice, but it was also completely serious at the same time.

"…Seriously?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were joking, but you've really changed."

Tartan licked his lips and turned his head back to the arena.

"The knight trainees that participated in spars today are all children supported by Owen. Those children are pretty strong, to be at the same level as them."

"Obviously, who do you think taught them?"

"Hmph, stop boasting. By the way, that boy…"

He pointed at Raon, who was warming himself up by rolling his wrist and ankle.

"I mean, who is that monster? I almost failed to recognize him with his extremely thin presence. The way he uses his sword and footwork together isn't at a mere trainee's level."

"I knew you weren't blind."

Rimmer giggled and pointed at the third prince, who looked calm and composed at the opposite side.

"Then why didn't you warn him about it? The third prince seems to be thinking that Raon is a sacrificial pawn."

"His highness will become the Owen Kingdom's future, but he doesn't know defeat yet. I figured it's better for him to experience it in a safe place like this."

That was the reason that Tartan didn't warn the third prince about it, despite having identified Raon's might.

He wanted to teach the third prince defeat so that he could reach a higher level.

"However, the third prince is strong. Even that genius swordsman won't be able to win with ease."

"I wonder…"

Rimmer shook his head, smiling more confidently than ever.

"I think a lot differently."

"Your stubbornness hasn't changed."

"Shall we make another bet, then?"

"Again?"

Tartan frowned.

"You really love bets, huh?"

"Then how about just a drink?"

"Fine. But what kind of bet do you want…"

Rimmer raised five fingers.

"Raon will finish your hope in five strikes."

"Nonsense! I realize that he is strong, but it's impossible in five strikes!"

Tartan glared and clenched his fist.

"Then you want to take the bet, right?"

"Of course! Bring it on."

"You are as wild as always."

Rimmer giggled and rubbed his hands together.

'I'm getting free drinks for the first time in a long time.'

 

***

 

"Hmm."

Greer De Owen, the third prince of the Owen Kingdom, licked his lips watching Runaan and Martha—who were outside the arena—instead of Raon, who was facing him.

'They will be good opponents.'

From the moment he entered the training ground, he'd been only interested in those two and the blue-haired guy who fought equally against Setun.

On the other hand, he didn't have a speck of interest in the collateral facing him. He looked fucking handsome, but that was it. He felt like his might was just too plain.

'I should finish this quickly.'

Using aura against the collateral in front of him would've been a waste. He decided that he'd do his best in his next match after single-handedly winning against him using only his physical strength.

"If you are ready, let's begin the spar."

Rimmer approached them and raised his hand.

"Last spar, begin!"

"Haa!"

The moment his hand went down, Greer unsheathed his sword.

 

Thud!

 

Kicking off the ground, he dashed in front of Raon. He wanted to finish it in a single strike.

However.

'Huh?'

Raon, who was standing in front of him, disappeared in an instant.

'Wh-where…? Huff!'

As he was about to turn his head to find Raon, he could hear the dangerous sound of wind from the right.

'Sword!'

Greer felt the wind created by a sword and hurriedly ducked his head.

 

Whoosh!

 

Raon's training sword grazed his hair, giving him goosebumps.

"Tsk!"

Greer rotated his body and swung his sword to the right.

 

Whoosh!

 

It was a precise strike, calculating Raon's position. However, Raon wasn't there this time, either.

Sheesh.

With the sound of a snake crawling the ground, he moved to his left. It all happened literally in a blink of an eye.

'What's that?!'

Greer grit his teeth. Using the Kingdom's Footwork, he quickly followed after Raon.

"Haa!"

He struck down at Raon, who was stepping back. The sword plummeted down, containing a powerful energy.

'It's over!'

He was standing in the place that Raon would need to be in order to dodge the strike. There was no way he could avoid it.

"Huh?"

The moment he thought it was over, he met Raon's eyes. The stationary eyes, without any sign of agitation in them, sent chills running down his spine the moment he saw them.

 

Smack!

 

Raon's body advanced, bending like a reed, and his sword rotated in a half moon shape.

His world turned along with his sword.

In the incomprehensible situation, he could just stay with his mouth wide open. He felt a powerful impact against his back.

"Kuh!"

He unconsciously groaned.

"Wh-what is this…?"

He lifted his aching head. Raon was standing way above him.

Greer finally realized he'd fallen outside of the arena.

"Kuh…ah!"

The third prince tried to raise his head while withstanding the pain in his back, then froze.

'I-it's him.'

The third prince swallowed, hands trembling.

'He was the real deal!'

 

* * *

 

 

"Oh my."

Rimmer covered his mouth, as if he was stopping himself from laughing, and looked at Tartan.

"What happened? It wasn't even five strikes! It ended in two strikes!"

"..."

Tartan didn't respond. Instead of the third prince on the ground, he was watching Raon with his jaw dropped.

And he wasn't the only one. Everyone in the training ground was astonished as they watched Raon.

"Huh…"

It took a long time for Tartan to finally exhale and straighten his back.

"What was that? How is his footwork so soft? The timing on his swordsmanship was also perfect. I didn't manage to identify everything."

Tartan's gaze was still fixated at Raon. The footwork and swordsmanship he'd displayed was far beyond that of a trainee.

What was even more surprising was that he'd defeated the third prince with an appropriate movement according to the situation, instead of overwhelming might.

It looked like the Raon boy had a special talent, showing more than his best.

"I told you Raon would win."

"I also knew that. But I didn't expect the third prince to lose without even standing a chance…"

"I'll make the reservation at a bar. See you again this evening. You know I only drink expensive liquor, right?"

"Tsk!"

"W-wait!"

When Tartan clicked his tongue and was about to turn his head around, the third prince stood up while wobbling.

"N-not yet. It's not over yet."

He entered the arena once again, unable to accept his defeat.

"Y-your highness!"

"Ohh."

Tartan approached the third prince in panic, and Rimmer scratched his chin with an interested smile.

"You can't—"

"Duke, I haven't done my best yet!"

The third prince walked past Tartan, who tried to stop him, and stood up.

"If I did my best from the beginning…"

"Wow, what a fucking loser!"

The corners of Martha's lips twisted up, and she stood with one foot inside the arena.

"You call yourself a prince, yet you can't even admit defeat and keep dragging on. You remind me of somebody."

She turned her head and looked down at Burren who wasn't doing anything.

"Ugh…"

Since he did do something like that in the past, he bit his lip and frowned.

"You…"

"Hey, mister prince. I'm talking kindly right now. Get the fuck out before I start cursing."

Without minding Burren, who was glaring at her from behind, Martha laughed at the third prince.

"How dare you! Who do you think he is…"

"If he is Owen's future king, I'm the direct lineage of Zieghart. I don't lose in any aspect."

Martha didn't step back, facing Duke Tartan.

"Stop!"

Rimmer entered the arena and hid the two people's faces with his hand.

"The spar is over, but we didn't hear the opinion of those directly involved. Let's hear it out first, Raon."

"Yes."

Raon, who'd been silent, nodded.

"What do you wanna do? Since you are the one fighting him, you decide."

Raon slowly turned around and tilted his chin.

"I heard the instructor made a bet in this spar. I think the results are clear. There's no reason to fight anymore."

"Kuh…"

The third prince's clenched fist shook.

"Your highness, let's stop now and lea…"

"I admit my defeat!"

Shaking off Duke Tartan's staying hand, the third prince stepped up.

"I've been underestimating you without properly recognizing your power. I'm so embarrassed and ashamed that I can't raise my head. However, if I leave now, I think I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Please fight me once more!"

The third prince dropped his sword, bowing at a 90-degree angle.

"Y-your highness!"

Duke Tartan tried to stop him, but he didn't move at all.

"Hmm…"

Raon could see the sincerity in his blue eyes.

'He lowered his head, huh?'

The third prince of the Owen Kingdom. The fact that he was accompanied by Duke Tartan meant that he had powerful supporters. He didn't expect him to apologize like that, after all.

"Hey, third prince or what, stop that disgraceful act and get ou…"

"Martha."

"Tsk."

Martha clicked her tongue and stepped back as Raon called her name.

"Hmm…"

Duke Tartan groaned at that sight.

'So, the might wasn't everything he had.'

The girl from the direct line, who even went against him, was silenced in a single word. The third prince wasn't the only one who'd underestimated Raon.

"Fine."

Raon nodded and went to the side of the arena.

"But this is the last time."

"O-of course!"

The third prince didn't look down on him anymore. It looked like he was paying proper respect to him as a warrior.

"Please tell me when you are ready."

Rimmer grinned, as if he knew that would happen, and entered the arena.

"Hmm…"

The third prince took out the lion shaped necklace from his armor and stared at it. Then, as if he had decided on something, he grit his teeth and tore it apart.

 

Whoosh!

 

A powerful wind emanated from his center, and his pressure became almost twice as strong. It wasn't just his aura; the energy of his trained body could also be felt.

"Has he been hiding such energy?"

"Huh!"

Burren and Martha frowned from the powerful pressure emanating from the third prince.

"Th-third prince! That's…"

"This isn't the time to be hiding my strength. I want to fight him with everything I have."

The third prince raised his sword, wind flowing out between his teeth. The expression seemed to say that he would go all out from the beginning, without being careless anymore.

What an idiot, you didn't even know your opponent was hiding his strength.

'I can still win.'

He has a lot more aura than you, and his body is also way more complete. Yet are you saying you can win?

'Do you wanna bet?'

Raon tilted his chin.

Hah! Of course! Bring it on.

Wrath snorted, and the wager message appeared at the same time.

 

[ is suggesting a bet.]

Condition: Victory against the Owen Kingdom's third prince, Greer De Owen.

Success: All stats +4

Fail: Creation of 10 points of emotion .

 

'I accept.'

Raon accepted as soon as the message appeared.

'The doormat is here again.'

If Rimmer was the doormat of Zieghart's gambling house, then Raon's doormat was Wrath.

Holding back the smile trying to leak out, he unsheathed his sword. He'd known from the beginning that the third prince had been hiding his strength.

He'd accepted the second challenge because he thought it would be useful for his training to fight the third prince that disclosed his full power, craving victory. He didn't expect the doormat to come along.

"Then, here I go."

The third prince focused his power on his leg and stepped forward. Destroying a sector of the arena, he dashed towards him like a savage beast.

"This will be more interesting."

Because there's something to gain.

Raon advanced and struck down the spinning sword.

 

Smaaaack!

 

The third prince's sword, surrounded by a sky-blue aura, and Raon's sword, engulfed in a red flame, crashed together.

____

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