Reincarnation of the Swordmaster Chapter 19

Things forgotten by Humanity

Asher twisted his arm, the sword in his hand tracing an arc as it stabbed towards his opponent’s neck. Reyka managed to deflect the strike with a swing of her blade. Asher ducked and spun, dodging the counterattack and swiftly kicking at her legs.


A dull thud sounded as Reyka staggered back a step, shaking her hand in pain as her sword swirled, casting illusions of its blade. Countless swords seemed to strike at him.


Asher steadied his breathing and forced his way through the illusionary blades with minimal movement, closing the distance between them. He surged forward, swinging his sword wide. The illusions vanished and Reyka’s startled expression came into view.


With one hand, Asher swung his sword and with the other, grabbed Reyka’s shoulder, tripping her. Reyka fell gracelessly, moaning,

“I lost again…”

“You’re getting quite used to it.”

Asher smiled as he helped her up, grasping her hand—rough, not the smooth hands typical of nobility.

“I do want to start winning, though.”

Reyka groaned. Scrapes marred her face, her body was sprawled on the dirt-covered ground, but she seemed unperturbed by her dishevelment. She’s become a true swordfighter, Asher thought, shaking his sword.

“It’s been a year since I properly learned.”

“You too.”

Reyka grumbled, and Asher shrugged nonchalantly. She might see it that way, yet he had decades of experience and effort on his side.

“Well. It’s not just a day or two. No need to despair.”

Reyka chuckled heartily, lifting her sword again. Asher watched her intently.

She had changed significantly since he first met her. Still fresh, but her beauty was blossoming, and in another couple of years, she would likely turn heads.

“Already a year, huh.”

Many things had happened since his reincarnation, and a year had passed. He was now eighteen, and Reyka, fifteen.

“A year? Since you lost your memory?”

“Yeah. Time flies.”

“Does it? I feel it’s slow.”

From Reyka’s perspective, so much had happened. Asher losing his memory, showing talent in swordsmanship, a Swordmaster visiting—it was unbelievable what had occurred in just this past year.

“Perception varies by person, anyway. Anyway, Reyka.”


Reyka straightened her posture. Asher had been correcting her weaknesses after their sparring for the past six months.

“Your swordsmanship has reached the midway point. The problem is practicality, and there’s nothing I can do about that. You naturally tend to be overly cautious. Your opponents aren’t always fully aware of everything. That’s especially true for illusion-based swordsmanship like Lefenia’s. You should act more boldly.”

“It’s easy for you to say to act boldly.”

Reyka looked uncertainly at Asher. Almost all her sparring had been with him, meaning many of her habits stemmed from him.

“You know everything. When I act boldly, I end up boldly beaten. It’s weird to be the one stepping forward, isn’t it?”

“You can’t just benchmark against me. How many times have we sparred?”

Asher chuckled softly. Their sparring tempo was nearly once a day. In terms of frequency, they had surpassed three hundred sessions. Enough time to fully read an opponent’s pattern.

“I can’t read it well. It’s too diverse. You change your movements quickly and unpredictably.”

“That’s because you’re still learning. But you’re improving significantly. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be this fast.”

Reyka’s growth over just a year was surprisingly fast. Now, she could hold her ground in a bout with him for over a hundred exchanges.

“And a few days ago, you defeated Karon.”

“Ah, right.”

When she had beaten Karon, his expression was almost comical. Reyka mentioned it casually, but it was no small feat. Karon was a well-known knight in the empire, skilled enough that anyone would be pleased to receive his loyalty.

‘This is what talent is.’

An absolute power that tramples on time and effort.

Familiar as he was with it, it was still awe-inspiring each time. Although he wasn’t about to lose yet, the story might change in a few years.

At one point, this was something he had been immensely envious of. Believing he, too, had talent, he had been overconfident and ultimately faced despair. What did he do after that?


A bitter smile crossed his face. It wasn’t a fun story.

He had no talent. Asher had come to accept that fact over the years. He was not immature enough to despair now.

“But watching, I have noticed something.”

Reyka glanced at Asher repeatedly, speaking as if puzzled.

“…Why do you have so many muscles?”

“So many?”

“Yes. A lot.”

Asher’s body, although only eighteen, was muscular, not grotesquely oversized but densely packed like a statue.

Literally, ideal muscles. Asher grinned, leaving the question hanging as they prepared for another round.

As I pressed on my muscles, they rebounded elastically with a squish. “Is it because of all the training?” “It’s a bit too much for that.” Even in my previous life, my muscles hadn’t developed to this extent. Well, they had, but that was later on. It certainly wasn’t to this degree in just a year. ‘Is it because of some strange power?’ The power to transcend physical strength by consuming muscles. It could have been the aftermath. There was nothing bad about it. Becoming stronger was a good thing. “Ah. Speaking of which, I’ll definitely ask this time.”

Rayka suddenly turned serious and leaned in close enough for their breaths to touch. Asher stepped back slightly. “What is it?” “Half a year ago. What did you do to brother?” “Ah.” Asher chuckled awkwardly. Rayka frowned. “Don’t try to skip over it. Exactly what did you do to make him suddenly so docile?” When Asher had left to meet Luke, Rayka couldn’t calm her mind. It was obvious what was going to happen. But when Luke and Asher returned the next day, Luke had quieted down. Not just quieted down, he didn’t go out anymore. He either holed up in the castle studying or stayed dead silent in his room, occasionally running away in terror when he saw Asher like a mouse that had seen a cat.

The parents and the people of the fief were pleased thinking the young master had finally come to his senses, but Rayka knew that wasn’t the case. Luke was afraid of Asher, excessively so. “It’s not bad, right? For you, for me, and for the fief.” “What about brother?” “Should I care?” Asher smiled gently. The smile made Rayka flinch. “If I hadn’t intervened, the young master would surely have become more violent. Someone might have died then. Isn’t this the best outcome?” “…” Rayka bit her lip. She wanted to argue but couldn’t find the right words. “I can’t create a world where everyone is happy.” That was the job of heroes. He was just an ordinary human. Asher changed the subject. “How’s the fief lately. Anything unusual?” “Hmm.” Rayka frowned slightly. “Something’s off about the parents.”


“Is Luke still the same today?” “Yes.” Rebberock’s question was met with a nod from Caron. Rebberock sighed. “To think he hasn’t come out for half a year.” Since half a year ago, after the incident with Asher, Luke had holed himself up in his room, even taking his meals there. However, Rebberock did not pester him. “Never thought it would be Motoloria.” The lord of the manor knew something had infiltrated his domain. He just didn’t know their identity, so he had left them alone. But Motoloria, that notorious group of assassins. Rebberock rubbed his forehead. “Luke, that foolish boy.” “If he had been wrong, the whole fief could have been in danger.” “Thinking about it, he might be okay in terms of penance. After all, he’s going to be the lord. He needs to experience these kinds of things.” Rebberock glanced at Caron. “You’ve fought with those from Motoloria before, haven’t you?” “Briefly, during my wandering days.” “How was it?” “…Unorthodox and dangerous. The villages they took over didn’t last long and fell apart.” Caron’s words drew a bitter smile from Rebberock. Iralock fief could have ended up the same. “We should be thankful to Asher.” “…He’s really something.” “Suspicious, isn’t it?” Asher had changed too suddenly. His personality, his values, even his swordsmanship. Apart from his appearance, it was as if he was a completely different person. Plus, to think he had defeated the notorious Motoloria. Although he hadn’t seen the fight, he knew well how difficult that task was. “I… don’t know.” Muttered Caron. “No matter that the Swordmaster confirmed it… he’s just too different.” “I feel the same way.” Rebberock still didn’t trust Asher. “Changed too suddenly. Almost like he’s not human.” Rebberock’s strange muttering made Caron lift his head slightly. “Do you think of him as a demonic entity?” “A reasonable suspicion.” “The Swordmaster himself denied it.” Caron was a straight-laced knight and a first-rate swordsman. To him, Haiban was a legendary hero. The idea of Haiban being wrong was unthinkable. But Rebberock was not a swordsman; he was a lord. “Even the Swordmaster is human. He doesn’t know everything. Besides.” Rebberock scoffed lightly. “Do you believe that ‘he’, Asher, has reformed?” “…” Caron remained silent. They knew the Asher of the past. That’s why they couldn’t trust the Asher of now. “It’s much more likely that he’s something entirely different. What could his motive be?” Rebberock stroked his chin. Caron spoke seriously. “He’s not likely to be hostile toward us.” “Right. He had many chances, yet there was no major action and he even helped us. So, we need a chance to be certain. And now we have that opportunity.” “What do you mean… Ah.” Caron gasped. Rebberock’s face fell somber. “An unintended opportunity.” ‘…You mean a strategic marriage.’ Rebberock silently agreed.

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