Master Assassin of the Ronan

Chapter 5: The Empire’s Grand Marshal

‘Haneke? Is this old man really the famous Haneke Brion?’

I recalled his name and heroic feats, densely etched in the history of the Empire’s wars.

The Emperor’s right hand.

The Empire’s living legend.

An unparalleled war hero.

His family had been a lineage of soldiers who commanded the Empire’s army for generations, while also renowned as a distinguished swordsmanship family.

Haneke before me had also been a martial artist who reached the level of the Seven Stars in his lifetime.

In particular, the ‘Brion Sword Technique’ passed down through the Brion family was highly reputed among esteemed martial artists.

I had heard that it completely vanished after Haneke’s death…

But that aside.

“Haneke Brion? How is it that you’re here before me?”

— I told you, didn’t I? Seiren Ronan, your mother, killed me.

Watching my startled reaction, Haneke burst into laughter.

— You must truly be Seiren’s son. Rest assured, I bear no grudge against your mother. It was a fair fight, and a complete defeat on my part.

He was defeated by my mother? Then doesn’t that mean he’s already dead? Why is he standing alive before me?

Haneke seemed to notice my curiosity.

— We fought for a full half-day. It was an intense battle, to the point that a single misstep decided the outcome. But Seiren was a perfect warrior. Even for me, wielding the aura of the Seven Stars, I only found an opening in Seiren’s defenses right at the brink of my own death. Her forearm, to be exact.

“Then the wound on my mother’s forearm…”

— Yes. That wound. It was the result of my first and final strike. That became my Sword Soul.

At last, I understood.

This was the reason Mirnico had remarked on something unusual.

When a warrior confronts death without fear, knowing it is their end, the aura held within their Ring becomes the ‘Sword Soul.’

It’s essentially a superior form of aura.

The Sword Soul clings to the wounded and torments them continuously until they either overcome it or surrender to it.

For that reason, it was also known as ‘the curse of the dead.’

But there was still something strange about it.

Even with the presence of a Seven-Star Sword Soul, it wouldn’t allow communication with the dead as it was now.

But how?

— Are you curious as to how you’re able to speak with the dead? I don’t know for sure myself. I can only guess.

Haneke moved closer.

— Within the Sword Soul of someone who transcends the Seven Stars, their spirit is contained.

Shivers ran down my spine.

This was something I hadn’t known until now.

I’d thought the Seven-Star Sword Soul was simply a more ferocious and aggressive aura.

Then, pieces I hadn’t understood began to fit together.

“…Then did it deliberately transfer from my mother’s body to my own weak body? Because of my mother’s overpowering Dark Ripple?”

Haneke burst out laughing.

— No. Just because I have a soul doesn’t mean I can control the Sword Soul’s direction as I please.

“Then what?”

— To be precise, it’s because you accepted me.

Haneke stopped laughing and continued speaking.

— Thanks to you, I didn’t dissipate. If your decision had been even a little delayed, Seiren’s Dark Ripple would have torn me apart. I want to sincerely thank you for that.

“So, because I accepted it, you were able to come into my body?”

— It seems being a regressor has made you sharp.

My wariness eased slightly. If Haneke’s words were true, this conversation held great significance.

I wanted to lead it further.

“I didn’t know at the time. I merely chose the only path for survival.”

— The only path to survival, indeed. The desire to become stronger is also a way to live, isn’t it?

Haneke let out a hearty laugh, clearly aware of something.

I carefully asked.

“Haneke, you’re in a spirit form now, aren’t you? So then… can you see my level?”

I was asking if he could see the two Rings and the Dark Ripple inside my body.

Haneke chuckled softly.

— Of course. Although temporarily, I currently occupy a part of both your body and mind. I can roughly gauge your level and thoughts, even down to the fact that you’re hiding two Rings inside your body.

With things as they were, it was actually favorable.

There was no animosity from Haneke.

On the contrary, I thought I might even ask for his assistance.

This old warrior might know secrets I hadn’t learned in my previous life.

Just as I expected.

Haneke, observing my inner self, showed interest.

— I think I might understand why you couldn’t fully develop before your regression. Doesn’t that make you curious as well?

He had hit the mark.

In truth, I hadn’t surpassed the Five Stars before regressing.

I had no lack of talent, effort, or the quality of Dark Ripple.

So why couldn’t I go beyond?

It was a mystery I hadn’t solved until the moment of my death.

Like an invisible hand had held me back my entire life.

Haneke leisurely walked over the black swamp with his hands behind his back.

I struggled to keep up.

I was convinced that he could provide an answer.

Reading my thoughts as if he could hear them, he unraveled my curiosity.

— It was probably because of me.

“…?”

— This wouldn’t be the first time I came at you as a Sword Soul. You must have experienced it before your regression.

“What do you mean by that?”

— It’s simple. Back then, you would’ve tried to resist my power rather than accept it. No doubt, my power held you down.

It held me back because I had resisted.

It was a statement befitting a martial artist who had reached the Seven Stars and a battle-hardened veteran who had led the Empire to prosperity.

— It’s a thing of the past now… Anyway, it was as if I trampled over your talent. If you reached Five Stars in that state, you could call it an accomplishment nonetheless.

An accomplishment, nonetheless?

I let out a hollow laugh involuntarily.

Because of my lowborn father, I was scorned by my brothers my whole life.

While they rested on their laurels as descendants of the Assassin Blade Family, I staked my life on becoming the best.

A kind of determination.

But my efforts had only ever been met with ridicule.

— I wouldn’t blame you if you resented me.

“I don’t resent the Grand Marshal. It’s fortunate to know now, at least. Besides, fate will change. Now I have my strength from before the regression. And I’ve met you, Grand Marshal. In my past life, I’d have never been able to.”

— Because you’ve done things you wouldn’t have done before the regression.

Things I wouldn’t have done before.

This remark was a clue. I felt I’d gained a direction for how to live this life.

But then, at that moment.

‘Huh?’

An ache rose from near my heart.

An unfamiliar sensation, an oppressive feeling as if something were pressing down to crush my heart.

‘What is this?’

The two Rings situated near my heart began to tremble.

My whole body quivered in tandem.

It was an uncomfortable but familiar sensation.

This was certainly…

— Ha-ha, have you realized? When you accept a Sword Soul above the Seven Stars, you also gain that person’s Ring. Another secret of the world has been revealed.

‘……!’

Haneke Brion’s Ring.

It was becoming my ‘third’ Ring, taking root within my body.

Though it was an empty Ring, Haneke’s Seven-Star aura had vanished; just the fact that I gained a ‘third Ring’ alone meant my potential growth was now boundless.

At that moment, a thought I had forgotten sprang to mind.

‘I am currently face to face with the Empire’s legendary Grand Marshal, Haneke Brion.’

I had something to ask him.

A question only he in this world could answer.

And if not now, I would never again have the chance to ask.

“Grand Marshal, please teach me your swordsmanship.”

The Brion family’s sword technique, which had completely vanished after the death of Grand Marshal Haneke.

If not now, I would never have the chance to learn it again.

“If you could help me master ‘aura’ after passing on the swordsmanship, that would be even better.”

While assassins of the Assassin Blade Family wielded Dark Ripple, warriors of renowned swordsmanship families wielded aura.

I’d never heard of an Assassin Blade Family member mastering aura, but such matters no longer held importance.

I now had an empty ‘third Ring’ where aura could be held.

“Do you sense the Grand Marshal’s Ring inside my body? I want to fill it with ‘aura.’”

Would it be possible?

I wasn’t sure.

Dark Ripple was a unique power.

Aura and mana could coexist within a Ring, but not Dark Ripple.

Dark Ripple repelled all other forces.

It could only inhabit a single Ring.

Even though my third Ring was empty, if aura were poured into it, it might shatter under the influence of the other Ring containing Dark Ripple. Because all the Rings were close to each other around the heart.

‘I don’t have the luxury to worry about risks. Right now, all that matters is becoming stronger.’

However, Haneke’s reaction was lukewarm.

— …To become an exception? Interesting, though time is short.

“What do you mean?”

— This is your inner world. Precisely, it’s a space within your subconscious. The only reason we’re able to converse here is that you gripped the shard of the sword blade holding my Sword Soul. The bond was strengthened by it.

“Then does that mean… time is limited?”

— Just now, your physician entered the room to check on you. You’re suffering from a high fever because of my Sword Soul. Soon, the physician will notice the shard you’re holding and take it away. When that happens, our conversation will end.

If they took the sword shard away, our conversation would end.

However, on the flip side, it also meant that I could continue the conversation anytime by gripping the shard of the blade again.

If only I could do that, I would be able to make Haneke Brion’s swordsmanship—no, all of Haneke’s memories and experiences—my own.

The Grand Marshal strode off into the darkness, then suddenly rose into the air as though lifted by an invisible hand.

He was clearly reluctant for this conversation to end. Even from the perspective of one who had faced death, I was likely the only one who could inherit the Brion family’s swordsmanship.

— What a pity. I looked forward to seeing your growth. I suppose we’ll never meet again.

Beyond my subconscious, I felt my hand holding the blade shard forcibly begin to open. Instinctively, I knew the final moments of the conversation had arrived.

Smiling, I left Haneke with a last remark.

“No. When I turn nine, I’ll definitely see you again. Then, I’ll find you, Grand Marshal.”

***

It had been eight years since I regressed.

I was now eight years old.

Today was particularly sunny. But that only applied to the mansion and its surrounding grounds.

Inside the Ronan family’s estate, one couldn’t see the landscape beyond the garden.

A thick fog, like a towering wall, surrounded the mansion.

To a child of the Assassin Blade Family under the age of eleven, this fog was nothing less than a wall, just as it was to outsiders.

Just as outsiders couldn’t penetrate the Ronan family’s fog, a child under the age of eleven from the Assassin Blade Family couldn’t cross beyond it either.

‘Only a few years left of looking at that fog wall.’

In three years, when I turned eleven, I would leave the mansion and live under an assumed identity.

For those of the Assassin Blade Family, life truly began then. To become the Emperor’s blade, I would live and grow under a false identity, honed under the education and protection of Ronan’s household. Perhaps “forged” would be a better word.

I sat on my bed, quietly observing my inner self.

After a moment, I could feel the three Rings revolving around my heart.

The first, the ‘Ring of my previous life,’ I still couldn’t control. To fully handle it, my second Dark Ripple Ring would probably need to reach at least the Five-Star level.

The second, the ‘Ring of my current life,’ had already awakened its Dark Ripple long ago.

I had awakened it at five, a year earlier than my mother. The Dark Ripple had now reached the level of Two Stars—a result of my secret training every morning.

The third, the Ring I received from Haneke. Though still empty, containing neither Dark Ripple, aura, nor mana, it undoubtedly existed within me.

One day, if I met Haneke again and completely inherited the Brion swordsmanship, it would be filled with high-quality aura.

“Master Rubin?”

Ah, that’s right.

Fyure had been explaining something to me.

When I turned my head, my nurse stared at me with a slightly irritated expression.

“Sorry, Fyure. I was lost in thought for a moment.”

Fyure sighed deeply and straightened her posture.

“You really are unusual, Master.”

That remark meant I didn’t act like an ordinary eight-year-old.

Being with me all day, Fyure said she sensed something in my mannerisms and words that was unusual for a child my age.

But by Assassin Blade Family standards, I wasn’t so unique.

No one in this cold and distant family atmosphere could spend their days as an ordinary eight-year-old.

“Please continue with the story.”

“Alright, Master! Today, I’m going to tell you about the two rites of passage that every child of the Assassin Blade Family must face.”

“You mean the ‘First Selection’ and the ‘Second Selection’?”

Fyure looked surprised at my words. Her face said, How did you know?

“I think I heard it somewhere.”

“Goodness, such a memory! But since you don’t seem to know the details, I’ll explain properly. The children of the Assassin Blade Family must undergo the first rite at the age of nine, in winter, and the second at the age of eleven, in summer. These are the ‘First Selection’ and ‘Second Selection.’”

The First Selection and the Second Selection.

They were rites everyone had to face before leaving home.

These were ceremonies in which not only the main Ronan family but also every branch participated.

It was an official examination where all nine-year-old children of each family gathered together.

After the First Selection, the children gathered once again at eleven for a second examination.

“Fyure, how many branches does the Assassin Blade Family have?”

Fyure pursed her lips at my sudden question.

“That… only the family head would know.”

Branches—the numerous lines of the Assassin Blade Family established over centuries.

As Fyure said, only the head of the Ronan family knew their exact count.

One thing was certain: the number of branches increased as time passed.

This was due to the Assassin Blade Family’s unique succession system.

The head of the Ronan family is the most outstanding among the siblings, regardless of gender.

Those who do not inherit the title of Ronan head discard the Ronan name and adopt a new one.

They become the head of a branch family.

With this practice sustained over hundreds of years, it was only natural that numerous branches emerged.

Even the heads of the family could barely know the extent of this lineage, which only the head of the Assassin Blade Family in Ronan could precisely understand.

‘Krokisson, Rainkroki, Galliotric, Stone, Krieger, Kalkreed, Kunitli, Bondog… The ones I encountered in my past life amounted to this much.’

Moreover, these families were just the branches that participated in the First and Second Selections during my previous life.

Dozens, maybe hundreds?

Perhaps far more Assassin Blade Family members lived scattered across the continent.

Believing that living as the Emperor’s loyal hounds was a sacred destiny.

‘To know who will be an enemy or ally, I must first become the head of the family.’

Understanding the lineage of the Assassin Blade Family and establishing my influence—that was the first goal.

Provided there were no major issues, becoming the head shouldn’t be difficult.

As Fyure sensed my thoughts wandering, she infused strength into her voice, drawing my attention back to her explanation.

“…Our Ronan family only hosts the rites of the First and Second Selections if there are children of the respective age. If the main family lacks children of that age, the branches gather and conduct the rites themselves.”

“Then, the ceremony next year will be one hosted by the main family, right?”

“Exactly! Because Master Rubin will be nine.”

“By emphasizing that point, you mean I should avoid tarnishing the main family’s authority?”

Fyure replied with her consistent smile. So, I posed a question that would make that smile vanish.

“What about my brothers?”

In fact, I already knew Dorian and Maphis’ results.

They had both failed to satisfy Mother in both exams.

Far from satisfaction, they had been a disgrace.

In the First and Second selections, Dorian had placed fourth and third, respectively.

Maphis had placed fifth and sixth.

Though there were particularly many children of his age during Maphis’ time, that hardly justified the main family’s shortcomings.

As heirs of the Ronan family in the Assassin Blade Family, one ought to always reach the top.

“I can’t tell you about the other young masters’ scores, Master Rubin.”

“Hmm, I’m curious.”

In the Ronan family, a lack of exceptional heirs didn’t mean the main family lost its status.

Since the Assassin Blade Family’s succession prioritized Ronan’s bloodline, regardless of exam results, one of us—myself, Dorian, or Maphis—would inherit the title, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

There might be some in the branch families holding grudges against this bloodline-centric principle.

For now, the branches were quiet due to Mother, who was considered the most talented head in Assassin Blade Family history.

“Master Rubin! Look over there!”

Fyure rose from her seat and pointed toward the window.

A carriage was crossing the garden.

If I remembered correctly, those were people from the Krokisson branch family.

One year before the First Selection, the head of Krokisson and his son visited the main family.

It was a scheduled visit.

I remembered this day vividly because of the son of the Krokisson family head, who I’d face next year.

‘Kun Krokisson. We meet again, you insolent bastard.’

The Kun before my regression had become an assassin with overwhelming skills. From this day on, Kun would become a lifelong comparison for me.

Krokisson, a family known for producing skilled assassins, resented the tradition that only those with the Ronan name could inherit the head position of the Assassin Blade Family.

They resented their ancestors who had failed to become the main family’s head.

They believed that if not for that divergence, they would have continuously inherited the main family.

This was when their resentment was at its peak.

Kun, the Krokisson family’s golden child, was jealous of me and my brothers for our average talent.

For various reasons.

“A boy like you, who lacks talent but has rotten luck.”

“A fool who will sink the Assassin Blade Family.”

“The epitome of weakness.”

These were Kun’s thoughts about me.

“Oh, look, Master! That young master is looking over here! How did he know?”

Even without Fyure mentioning it, I had been locking eyes with Kun since he stepped down from the carriage.

His jealous gaze and bitter smile.

It was an unnaturally intense expression for an eight-year-old, but I knew Kun’s feelings were genuine.

After I lost entirely to him in the First and Second Selections, his disdain for me only grew.

But this life would be different.

“I should go downstairs.”

“Oh, Master! Don’t you know you can’t leave before finishing your theory lessons without the family head’s permission?”

Fyure shook her head, but I rose from my seat.

“The family head will call for me.”

No sooner had I spoken than someone knocked on the door.

“Master Rubin, the family head requests your presence.”

“Oh my, it’s true?”

I smiled at Fyure, who had widened eyes.

“Come on, let’s go. We have a guest to greet.”