Master Assassin of the Ronan

Chapter 14: The Privilege of the Victor (2)

The darkness had not yet lifted, and it was still the early dawn.

The heads of the branch families of the Assassin Blade Family left the Ronan estate, accompanied by their children.

The road was filled with pitch-black darkness, but night was more comfortable than day for the Assassin Blade Family.

Rubin paid his respects to those vanishing into the familiar darkness.

‘I wonder how different they’ll be in two years.’

There were two years left until the “Second Selection.”

It was an unspoken rule that official training was impossible during that time, but the heads of the branch families would still work hard to forge their children.

Kun, in particular, would do anything to take revenge on Rubin.

‘I can’t stay idle either.’

After everyone else had left, Rubin stood alone in the garden and opened the hand that held the shard of the blade.

At that moment, one of the family retainers approached Rubin.

“Young Master Rubin, the head of the household is waiting for you in the Dusk Hall.”

“I understand. I’ll go right away.”

Rubin knew why his mother was summoning him.

The ripple caused by Rubin’s choice.

At the very least, no one had asked him to explain his decision at the gathering, but it was certainly not a choice to be overlooked.

“Come in.”

In the center of the empty Dusk Hall, Seiren stood waiting.

As Rubin approached, she went straight to the point.

“You know your choice surprised everyone, right?”

“Yes, Head of the Household.”

“Some may think you disrespected the other families. Others may suspect that the item you chose is superior to the ten items I specifically listed.”

Her tone was dry.

It was impossible to read her emotions.

“I pondered through the night as well. And I reached a conclusion. Every suspicion I mentioned is wrong. Am I right?”

Rubin nodded.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Then, did you think you could come and go freely from that storage and grab any relics you desired simply because you are my child?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good, at least you’re not a fool.”

Seiren was curious.

Why hadn’t he chosen the Kergiti dagger?

As a blood descendant of the Assassin Blade Family, even an infant would covet that legendary blade.

Choosing it would have allowed Rubin to make a name in the history of the Ronan family.

Seiren looked at Rubin silently.

Rubin certainly had his reasons for his actions.

Confidence.

Seiren saw in Rubin a confidence grounded in something real, unshaken by doubt or regret.

“What you chose is merely a shard of a blade. It can hardly be called a relic, nor can it even be a weapon; it’s more like a keepsake. It could perhaps be refined into a small dagger, but that’s not why you chose it, is it?”

The relic chosen in the First Selection would stay by its master’s side for life, fighting alongside him.

Seiren could not predict what consequences Rubin’s choice for this precious opportunity would bring.

“Today’s choice may one day lead you to your death. Will you regret it?”

“I will not regret it, Mother.”

“Very well, then. I suppose you have a plan.”

Seiren stepped closer, right in front of Rubin.

“Through this test, I confirmed your remarkable wit. You’re clever. But cleverness alone won’t let you survive in this world. Especially the ‘Second Selection’ in two years; you know that this trial cannot be overcome with cleverness alone, right?”

“I promise you victory when the time comes.”

Rubin answered without hesitation.

Seiren could hardly believe her ears.

The “Second Selection” was entirely different from today’s test.

Many called it a trial so grueling that it would scar one’s soul for a lifetime.

And yet Rubin spoke of victory as if it were a given.

Foolhardiness. Or confidence.

Though only time would tell in two years, she didn’t entirely dislike Rubin’s response.

It was something she wouldn’t expect from Dorian or Maphis—a glimmer of hope, perhaps.

“Alright. Go back to your room now.”

Just as Rubin was about to leave the Dusk Hall, Seiren called out to him again.

“Do you know whose shard that is?”

“It was written in its place. A shard from the blade of Haneke Brion.”

“He was once the Empire’s Grand Marshal—a strong man indeed.”

Seiren, almost unconsciously, touched her left forearm.

The Sword Soul Haneke left on it still remained.

“It’s a memento he left behind. Take pride in your choice.”

Back in his room, Rubin sat at his desk.

He opened his palm.

In the moonlight streaming through the window, the shard glimmered.

The object he’d chosen over legendary relics.

“The Empire’s Grand Marshal, Haneke Brion.”

After meeting him just after birth, he hadn’t seen him in nine years.

All that time, Rubin had waited for this day. The time had come for the real start of his pursuit of vengeance, the moment to make himself stronger.

“Haneke.”

Rubin called out softly.

With the shard of the blade clutched in his hand.

He felt something ripple within him, but it soon quieted down. After that, it was completely unresponsive.

‘…?’

Had too much time passed?

He didn’t know.

That night, Rubin couldn’t easily fall asleep because of Haneke’s lack of response.

Until the darkness lifted completely and dawn broke, Rubin sat still at his desk, waiting for Haneke’s response.

“Oh my! Young Master, you’re already awake?”

Fyure, carrying a basin of water, entered.

She was startled.

Noticing Rubin’s hollow eyes, she realized he hadn’t slept.

“Oh my, what were you doing all night?”

“There was something I had to do for a moment.”

“Since you’ve come back victorious, you can take it easy for a day!”

Rubin couldn’t respond to Fyure’s words.

At that moment, he felt something stir within him.

Rubin closed his eyes and focused.

The pitch-black darkness in his vision brightened, and his “inner world” opened.

And in the distance.

A figure appeared, walking toward him.

As the silhouette obscured by shadows grew clearer, the person’s appearance was revealed.

With one hand behind his back and stroking his white beard with the other, it was unmistakably Haneke.

– It’s been a while.

‘Haneke Brion.’

– I wonder how long I’ve been asleep. It was an incredibly long and tedious darkness. I thought I might have truly died.

‘I told you, we would meet again.’

– I didn’t expect you to keep your promise. By the way, you’ve become quite the young man.

‘It’s been nine years already.’

– Huh, nine years.

Haneke gazed intently into Rubin’s bright eyes, as though seeing how much he had grown over the years.

Two Rings, and the empty Ring of Haneke.

Altogether, three Rings coiled around Rubin’s heart.

– You still can’t manage the Ring of your past life. But the second Ring has developed considerably. Was it called Dark Ripple? The source of your people’s power.

‘That’s correct. Have you heard of Dark Ripple?’

– I didn’t know of it while I was alive, not even until the moment your mother killed me. Now that I’m looking inside you, I can sense what kind of power it is.

‘Then you can also see my third Ring, right? The Ring granted by the Grand Marshal.’

-Hmm?

Rubin’s face, as he asked, was full of anticipation for a new level of learning—the chance to master the legendary Brion Swordsmanship.

‘When shall we begin?’

-What do you mean?

Suddenly, Rubin kicked off the ground and leapt into the air.

A gentle ripple spread across the black swamp where they stood.

‘You know what I mean—Brion Swordsmanship.’

-After such a long reunion, you bring up swordsmanship right away.

Even as he said this, Haneke didn’t entirely dislike Rubin’s headstrong desire for improvement.

‘Haaah!’

Rubin lunged quickly.

His target was Haneke’s heart.

Haneke twisted the upright wooden sword in line with Rubin’s speed, deflecting the attack.

He then struck Rubin’s left leg and right thigh with the sword.

‘If that had been a real blade…’

Rubin would have lost his lower body without resistance.

Rubin leapt back, putting distance between himself and Haneke.

The space where they fought was Rubin’s Inner World.

Since their first meeting, when it had been a swamp of darkness, much had changed over the past week.

Rubin had discovered he could consciously transform this place where he met Haneke, turning it into an imaginary training ground.

A vast plain, a training ground atop a steep hill.

‘By tomorrow morning, my thigh will probably be wrecked.’

The impact of this training directly affected reality.

Though Haneke’s successful attacks didn’t carve out Rubin’s flesh, the physical pain remained when Rubin returned to reality after the training session ended.

-The core of the Ronan family blademanship is a “single strike.”

Most attacks target either the heart or the throat, a style purely focused on killing the opponent.

Even though they had only sparred, Haneke accurately grasped the Assassin Blade Family’s swordsmanship.

The Assassin Blade Family’s goal was solely “a swift death.” The fewer traces of the fight, the better.

For this reason, it lacked the graceful form of other renowned swordsmanship families.

-But how does my sword move?

‘The Grand Marshal’s sword… it’s like performing a sword dance. Almost as if purposely delaying death.’

In a positive light, it was “graceful,” though in a negative sense, it could be seen as “inefficient.”

Rubin spoke frankly, even if it risked offending Haneke.

It was so vastly different from the Ronan family’s swordsmanship.

-Delaying death, is it? A good interpretation.

Haneke leapt forward, landing once more in front of Rubin.

He planted his wooden sword in the ground and shook his head.

-But you’re wrong. The core of the Brion Swordsmanship is “survival.”

‘Survival?’

-The Brion Swordsmanship doesn’t shine in an arena or on a stage for sword dancing. It shines on the battlefield. It’s a swordsmanship meant not for one-on-one but for one-against-many encounters.

The Brion family had cultivated many great soldiers for generations.

Although Haneke was the only one to reach the position of Grand Marshal, many Brians had historically served as commanders on the battlefield.

-Even though it appears as a graceful sword dance, that’s only because of the difference from the Assassin Blade Family’s style. From the perspective of survival, it’s actually extremely efficient.

Swordsmanship of survival.

Originally, Brion Swordsmanship stemmed from the spear, not the sword—a swordsmanship based on spear techniques specialized for warfare. Thus, many attacks were designed to maintain distance from the opponent.

The most distinguishing feature was that it aimed not to end the enemy’s life but to restrict their movements.

Instead of targeting the heart, it aimed at easier targets like ankles and wrists. If survival was the core, then, as Haneke said, this would indeed be the most efficient way.

‘So that’s why my wrists and feet didn’t stand a chance.’

After each training session, Rubin’s lingering pain was always in his wrists, feet, thighs, and near his ankles.

-Let’s wrap it up for today.

‘Already? We’ve only been at it for an hour.’

Rubin picked up Haneke’s wooden sword planted in the ground.

He shook his head and did not take the wooden sword Rubin offered him.

-Rubin, I told you I would teach you Brion Swordsmanship, but I never said I would pass it down to you.

‘What?’

Rubin looked down at the wooden sword with a puzzled expression.

Only a week had passed.

A short time, but enough for Haneke to gauge Rubin’s potential.

A frightening learning ability.

Like a sponge soaking up water.

It wasn’t because Rubin was a regressor. Learning swordsmanship belonged to the realm of the “unconscious,” not the “conscious” realm of experience and knowledge.

The experiences and knowledge from before regression should have actually hindered Rubin’s ability to learn.

Rubin, having lived 39 years, should have been influenced by the inertia of his foundational nature.

That’s why children learn skills, like magic or swordsmanship, fastest in their early years.

But Rubin was different.

When it came to learning swordsmanship, Rubin erased every memory from his life before regression.

Like a blank sheet of paper, he absorbed everything exactly as it was written, sometimes even adding his own colors to it.

‘If it’s Rubin, he’ll undoubtedly reinvent our Brion Swordsmanship. That might be beneficial for Rubin, but it would mean the extinction of the original Brion Swordsmanship.’

The Brion Swordsmanship was already inherited by his grandson.

Even without Rubin, it would continue through the generations.

But if Rubin appeared, wielding a modified and improved Brion Swordsmanship, the original would eventually fade away.

It wasn’t something Haneke wanted to admit, but he knew it was entirely possible.

And that was his concern.

Thud.

The wooden sword Rubin threw landed firmly beside Haneke.

Rubin looked as if he were ready to rebel against Haneke’s refusal to pass on the swordsmanship.

-Are you trying to protest against me now?

‘Grand Marshal. Don’t you worry about the preservation of Brion Swordsmanship?’

-Preservation? What are you talking about?

‘If you don’t pass it down to me, Brion Swordsmanship will completely disappear from this world.’

Haneke let out a chuckle as if to ask what he was talking about.

Though he’d been killed by Seiren, his grandson was still alive to carry on Brion Swordsmanship.

How could it disappear?

While Rubin was undoubtedly more talented than his grandson, the loss of the swordsmanship wasn’t something he needed to worry about.

‘Hmm.’

On the other hand, Rubin was troubled, wondering how to explain it to Haneke.

How to convey that, in this world, there was no Brion lineage left to carry on the family swordsmanship after Haneke.

And that Haneke was greatly mistaken about Emperor Telmach’s methods.

‘How do I persuade him?’