Reincarnated as the Adopted Son of a Prestigious Swordsmanship Family

Chapter 28 : Pass

‘Look at this bastard.’

Simurtr, who had pierced the man’s face, narrowed his eyes.

His fingers… no, even though his palm had gone all the way in, he felt no bones, not even the sensation of touching skin. If he had pierced his face this much, he should have felt bones, hot blood, and muscle.

‘And the way he looks.’

It felt like attacking a face reflected on the water’s surface.

Ripples spread across the guy’s face. It swirled like a whirlpool, centered on the pierced hand.

‘This is…’

He suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu.

If the standard of experience was his current life, then it was déjà vu.

If his past life was included, then it wasn't. He had seen Semenu, but he had never attacked her like this.

‘It’s a Phantasmal Ability, isn’t it?’

The phantasm that Semenu prided herself on.

The power that proved that the Degrate were of half-elven blood. The reason why the Degrate, who lacked even a common title, were praised and feared as the kings of assassins.

‘But in the end, it’s still magic.’

Different from elves. Half-elves. The implementation of the phantasms that the Degrate performed was based on magic.

Exa’s discerning eye… was convinced that the incomprehensibility the man was showing now was the same power as that of Degrate, of Semenu.

‘Let’s grab him first.’

The internal injuries were still manageable. His right hand, on which the unique white ki of the Star-Breaking Style had formed, grabbed the man’s neck.

“Kugh.”

This time, the sensation was real. This was the way to grab a phantasm. Ki, or better quality, overwhelming magic.

“And your friend?”

He said to the man’s face, which was distorted in pain. There were many things he wanted to ask, but the most important thing was that.

“Quickly. There’s one more, isn’t there?”

The ambush at the Northwest’s Short Slumber. At that time, his Sword Net had caught six others besides the ten knights.

Among them, four were Ael, Deban, Juyce, and the innkeeper. The remaining two were presences he was reading for the first time in his life.

Those two had been hiding in the vicinity since the beginning of the ambush and had followed them here.

“I asked where your friend is.”

But only one had appeared. The moment he coughed up blood, the other one had moved out of the Sword Net’s range.

The wrong guy was tricked. It was a test to trick Deban and see his intentions, but an unnecessary moth flew into the flame.

And only one of them.

“If you’re going to hide, you should have hidden a bit further away. So annoying.”

The grip became stronger and stronger. The pure white ki swelled larger and larger. The man’s groans grew in proportion to it, and then his head drooped lifelessly.

Thud. A definite weight was felt in his right hand that was holding the neck. Simurtr had come to bear the man’s weight entirely.

“Huh?”

His heart had stopped, and the blood had pooled in his veins.

The unique heaviness of a corpse. The sensation he had experienced so tediously in his past life was clearly felt in the hand that held the neck.

Given the man’s level just before, he couldn’t have deluded the ki. This meant it wasn't a phantasm.

“Really?”

He dies so pathetically like this?

‘Was getting caught that big of a mistake? To the point where a precious talent with a Phantasmal Ability would give up his life?’

This was not a problem that would end with just Janya. Simurtr instinctively realized that fact.

“He’s dead.”

Deban, who had been watching quietly, said. Unlike Ael, Deban didn't know the truth. He knew Simurtr’s achievement to be at the level of sword ki.

Ki had overflowed at the inn, but a normal person would not think it belonged to the 16-year-old Simurtr.

But now it was different. Simurtr had used ki to subdue the attacker.

“Shall I dispose of him?”

And yet he didn't ask or act surprised.

It was because he knew the priorities, and it was a behavior that Simurtr found very much to his liking.

A guy who was quick-witted, who understood things without needing to be told. His innate talent was also like that. A guy worth raising, as long as he wasn't one of Janya's forces.

“You know this, right?”

Simurtr shook the corpse.

Deban, who had experienced Semenu’s Phantasmal Ability at the Selection Ceremony, couldn't possibly not know.

“Yes. It’s a Phantasmal Ability, right?”

Deban nodded.

Ael was looking at the corpse with surprised eyes. She had experienced the green phantasm at the Selection Ceremony, but this was the first time she had seen it applied in a fight.

It was a power undeserved by humans. To someone with little experience, it came across as that much more bizarre.

“I’ve experienced it a few times. But it must be your first time, Sir Simurtr, yet you dealt with it so naturally.”

To Deban’s eyes, Simurtr, who reacted to it so easily, looked even more bizarre. Anyone who experienced a Phantasmal Ability for the first time was bound to be flustered.

“I experienced it at the Selection Ceremony.” Dıscover more novels at novel⁂fire.net

“That’s very different from facing it.”

“If you’re curious, wake Juyce up. I’ll let you listen together.”

“I’m not curious.”

“Alright. Stay still. I’m going to spare you.”

“Yes.”

Deban did not express curiosity.

He even closed his eyes, in case he said he didn't like the look in them.

“A Phantasmal Ability, why is that coming out here? We’re in a cooperative relationship with them.”

“I wouldn’t know. I should have interrogated this guy.”

Simurtr’s gaze swept around his right hand.

The man, whose entire body had been rippling with green light, had returned to his natural human color. The phantasm had disappeared because he had died.

‘This guy.’

White skin that looked like it had rarely seen the sun.

Young features. He had thought he was around twenty until now, but now he looked closer to a boy. The form of a boy. A familiar appearance.

“He’s really a Degrate.”

Similar to Semenu.

Their appearances were different, but their builds were the same.

“That’s why he used a Phantasmal Ability.”

“No. He’s from the direct line. The branch families don’t look like this.”

The blood of the elves was diluted in the branch families of Degrate. They grew more, and the quality of their muscles was also different.

Simurtr fiddled with the corpse’s arm. Then its thighs, calves, and even its abs. They were similar to Semenu’s muscles. It was safe to say they were almost identical.

“Deban.”

“Yes.”

“When we get back, we’ll have to call for Degrate, won’t we?”

“I suppose so.”

“No. Wait a minute.”

“Yes.”

It would be more comfortable to go and see them myself.

And to check how Semenu was doing.

***

Degrate?

If one were to name the most valuable information in the world, it would surely be among the top few.

Half-elves. Because they were a truly precious and rare clan. The value of information about the Degrate could not be priced.

That was how little information there was.

‘Though what kind of assassin would release information about themselves.’

Simurtr also knew little. It was at the level of remembering only a few he had met on the battlefield.

Semenu didn't like to talk about the main Degrate family. Exa was the same. What he was interested in were his squad members, not their bloodline.

‘In a situation where it’s hard to get information. Seeing a direct descendant of Degrate in person is like picking a star from the sky.’

That was Degrate.

Why did he see them in Huit?

The most likely possibility was that Janya had won over the Degrate.

‘How?’

It would be one thing if it was in the form of a request for a single assassin.

But to give up a clan member they treasured so much?

‘Why on earth?’

He couldn't understand either that Janya had won them over, or that Degrate had accepted it.

It was a situation that Simurtr had not anticipated at all. He thought at most the knights of Jabad or mercenaries, or perhaps some back-alley spellcasters would come.

But a direct descendant of Degrate.

‘No. Is he even from the direct line in the first place?’

Judging by his physical characteristics, he was from the direct line.

‘But he’s too weak.’

If he were truly from the direct line, he wouldn't have died so pathetically. No matter how much of an advantage the Star-Breaking Style had in terms of compatibility, this was still too much.

The Phantasmal Ability of Degrate that Simurtr remembered was not something that could be pierced so easily.

‘Because he’s still young? No. Then he wouldn't have given up his life. It’s a bloodline where it’s not easy to have children.’

The Degrate treasured their bloodline obsessively. If they found out the truth, they would do anything to get him back.

There was no reason for him to give up his life as soon as he was caught. It would be one thing if he gave up when there was no hope, but this side had clearly given him a chance.

‘I’ll find out when I go.’

He had already killed him, and he had the body. No matter how much he wracked his brain, what’s past is past.

All that was left was to return and meet the Degrate. Of course, Semenu had to be there too.

Although they were in a cooperative relationship with the Degrate, he had already turned him into a corpse. He didn't know how the other side would react.

“But, Simyun.”

“Who’s that.”

“You. It rolls off the tongue. Simurtr is too long.”

“There are plenty of names in the world longer than mine.”

“But among the people I know, yours is the longest.”

“Do as you please.”

“Can I call you that too?”

“You have to pass an ideology check first.”

“Yep.”

“So your body? What happened? Was it an act? All of it?”

Ael’s eyes shot up fiercely. Cold sweat? It had long since disappeared. Traces of coughed-up blood were scattered on the floor, but his complexion was perfectly fine.

Furthermore, the ki he had shown just before. It was not something that someone who had suffered from magic exhaustion and internal injuries to the point of coughing up blood could show.

“The internal injuries are real. Why. You don’t believe me? Want me to vomit again?”

Even now, various places were stinging. The damage to his magic circuits was clear. The same went for his muscles. His arms and thighs were consistently producing pain.

‘How much did I use the ki? Twice? Just that?’

Only twice.

But putting his full strength into it when facing the knight captain had a big effect.

‘This body is too fragile.’

The body of a 16-year-old was still delicate.

A four-star rotation was possible, but he didn't have the durability to put all his magic into that rotation.

He felt an even greater burden when using ki. It was because it was not just any ki, but the ki of the Star-Breaking Style.

All practitioners were like that, but the successors of the Star-Breaking Style were even more so. The Star-Breaking Style demanded an extremely sturdy body.

‘I thought I’d be able to do it by now.’

Experiencing it made him realize. It was like riding a horse. He could go at a certain speed, but if he ran at full speed, he would be thrown off.

His body was not yet complete enough to use the ki of the Star-Breaking Style.

“What about the magic exhaustion?”

“Not anymore.”

It had only been two days since he set out on the request. Already, two lines of Pagna had been shaved off. It wasn't the price of using it for two days. He had used it up in less than an hour.

How much time and magic he had invested in those two lines. Simurtr found that quite a waste.

Should he not have done that to the knight captain? No. That wasn't it either. It was a situation where dragging it on would not have been good.

“And the coughing up blood?”

“It was necessary.”

Simurtr glanced at Deban.

When their eyes met, he smiled awkwardly. He was a guy with basic sense. He couldn't not know his own position.

‘It’s amazing he’s pretended not to know until now.’

Coughing up blood was a setup for Deban.

To test how Deban would react if he showed him he had serious internal injuries.

If he were one of Janya’s forces like Juyce, he would have attacked. That’s what he had thought.

‘Some useless bastard had to get caught.’

The attempt ended without even seeing a reaction. The man who used the Phantasmal Ability got caught instead.

…Though one might wonder how realistic the acting must have been for that to happen.

‘What should I do.’

For now, he had no intention of killing him. He had already decided to spare him. But he had to know his true intentions. Whose side he was on, what he was going to do now.

“Ugh.”

It was around that time that Juyce woke up.

Oh. Seeing his opened eyes, Simurtr’s face brightened. It wasn't time for Juyce to die yet.

He had already given up on interrogation, but just in case.

As he had declared to the innkeeper, the hole in his abdomen had already been filled by a potion.

“Sir Simurtr! Oh. I’m glad you’re safe!”

Juyce, who had opened his eyes, scanned his surroundings and suddenly shouted.

“Is he crazy.”

At that shout, Simurtr laughed for a long time.

He wiped away the tears that had slightly formed with his finger.

He had thought Deban was the only one not cut out to be a Mectera swordsman.

“Were you worried about me?”

“Of course! Those knights, how…”

“You don’t remember?”

“Yes… Yes! Only up to being hit in the stomach with sword ki…”

“‘Keok! Why me!’ And then you fainted.”

As Simurtr reenacted it, Ael nodded. That scene was also the moment she was convinced that Juyce was an accomplice.

“That! That was…! I’m sorry. It seems my true feelings came out without me realizing it. He attacked the Young Master, but I didn’t think I would be hit too…”

It seems my own body was more precious without me realizing it, Juyce said. Indeed.

Unlike a main castle swordsman, he was quick-witted.

“But swordsman guys are all bad at acting.”

“It’s not easy.”

That awkwardness was fully transmitted to the perceptive Ael. Deban swept up his bangs as if in a difficult position, and Simurtr just laughed openly.

“You’re crazy about noble blood, and now you’re curious about the blood of the main castle?”

Mectera was a ducal house. And a Hero Family at that.

If you liked nobles, it was a bloodline you couldn't help but be crazy about.

“But I’m an adopted son.”

“N-No! It’s a misunderstanding!”

“Really? Then did you just like Janya more? Than the main castle?”

Simurtr chuckled.

Both Janya and Juyce were so foolish.

‘How did they prepare a real ambush?’

Did they really think they would succeed and not get caught?

‘Did they trust that weak Degrate?’

Seriously?

“How were you going to handle the aftermath.”

“I know, right.”

“What do you think?”

As he was thinking if there was any information to extract, Deban’s voice was suddenly heard. Simurtr looked at Deban.

“Swordsman Juyce crossed the line.”

Deban was nodding his head.

The adopted son who passed the Selection Ceremony was no different from a direct descendant.

He had touched such a Simurtr. And outside the main castle at that. He had used external forces, not those of the main castle. The crime was beyond words.

“And you didn’t cross it?”

“Didn’t I pass the test earlier?”

“That bastard ruined it.”

Simurtr pointed at the dead Degrate.

“Ah. Right.”

Deban scratched the bridge of his nose as if in a difficult position.

“Then…”

He was about to ask, How shall I prove it, but Juyce cut him off.

“De-Deban! That bastard is on Janya’s side. The fact that he volunteered to be Sir Simurtr’s companion is the proof…!”

This time, Juyce’s words were cut off.

His neck was pierced by a dagger thrown by Deban. Instead of language, the sound of wind leaked out through the narrow hole.

“Then what about this?”

Deban pointed at the dead spokesperson.

“Pass.”

Simurtr nodded his head as if satisfied.

“Thank you.”

Deban smiled brightly.

‘What is this.’

Ael looked at the two who were smiling at each other with an indescribable expression.