A Disaster-Level Assassin Has Been Freed

Chapter 140: Seton Swordsmanship Hall (2)

‘What… just happened?’

Staring at his sword, flung far away, Dane Ward wore a dazed expression.

He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t believe a scrawny kid, who looked no older than his younger brother, had defeated him.

“No, this… this isn’t right.”

“What’s not right?”

Glen asked, and Dane Ward replied in a furious tone, “Invalid! Invalid! You took advantage of my carelessness, you coward…”

“Fine. Let’s call it invalid.”

“…What?”

“Let’s say it didn’t happen and start over.”

“……”

“Why that look?”

Glen asked again.

Dane Ward’s face twisted as if he’d met his mortal enemy.

‘This guy, daring to look down on me?’

He did want to rematch.

But the kid’s ready agreement made him feel awful, as if he posed no threat at all.

Grit.

“…I’ll kill you.”

Grinding his teeth, Dane Ward muttered under his breath.

His demeanor was menacing.

Unlike before, he wasn’t smirking or careless.

Fully focused and giving his all, he approached with sword in hand. Seeing this, Cain and the orphanage boys trembled.

They were scared.

Terrified.

Despite being the same age, Dane Ward, a head taller, filled them with helplessness, inferiority, and deep defeat.

“……”

But Glen was different.

Though smaller than even the orphanage boys, he stood confident and calm, gazing at his opponent with steady eyes.

Watching this, Dane Ward’s steps slowed.

Slower, slower, and then…

Halt!

He stopped, rooted to the ground, unable to advance.

‘What’s this?’

He muttered inwardly.

It was strange.

The opponent was insignificant—shorter, lighter, looking like he hadn’t eaten properly, just a runt.

Yet, he couldn’t approach.

Beyond that, he could barely look him in the eye.

Unbeknownst to Dane Ward, his body instinctively sensed it.

The kid before him was a predator with enough power to devour him.

“You not coming?”

“……”

“No answer?”

“……”

“Then I’ll come to you.”

“…Urgh!”

As the boy slowly approached, Dane Ward let out a stifled groan.

This couldn’t happen.

To be humiliated by the same opponent not once, but twice—he couldn’t allow it.

‘Especially by a parentless beggar!’

Grit, he clenched his teeth again.

Fueled by anger, contempt, and superiority, he raised his sword. Despite the chaos, his long-trained movements naturally formed a decent stance.

But it was futile.

Glen, instantly reading his openings, thrust his blunt sword toward Dane’s solar plexus with lightning speed.

Tap—!

“Looks like it’s over.”

“……”

Glen, deliberately holding back, spoke, and Dane Ward, realizing the situation too late, could only clench his fists tightly.

Defeat.

An overwhelming defeat, with no room for excuses.

Swish—

Clatter!

He flung his sword away with a whoosh and left the hall without looking back, unable to bear the shame and humiliation.

As he left, a single excuse slipped from his mouth, “Damn it, this garbage hall got me into this mess.”

“You, you, you little—!”

The Seton Hall Master clutched the back of his neck.

He was dumbfounded.

After all the attention he’d given that kid, he dared say that to his master?

Fury boiled within him. He wanted to chase him down and grab him by the collar.

But he couldn’t.

Having already been humiliated, he couldn’t afford to make a further spectacle.

‘Though it already feels ruined…’

The Seton Master closed his eyes tightly.

Of course, Dane Ward wasn’t the hall’s representative. He’d been favored due to his wealthy parents, but there were plenty of kids more skilled than him.

Still, the fact that a hall student lost to an orphan didn’t change.

With a near-tearful expression, he thought, ‘That kid never practiced properly, so maybe we should challenge again with our real strength?’

But he knew the other side wouldn’t accept.

They’d already gained everything by defeating Dane Ward. Why would they take on another fight with no benefit?

But then, the boy who had defeated Dane Ward and stood calmly spoke, as if reading his mind, “If you’re unhappy with the result, you can send out another opponent.”

“…What did you say?”

“I said you can send out someone else besides Dane Ward, Hall Master.”

“……”

‘This kid, drunk on victory, has no sense!’

The Seton Master clenched his fists, trembling with rage.

His mood was foul, different from before.

If a lowborn, parentless kid would just stay quiet, but to cause such a scene…

What? It’s fine to send out another opponent?

“You’ll regret those words.”

Spitting the words through gritted teeth, the master whispered to an instructor.

The instructor, who darted off, returned with three boys.

All as sturdy as Dane Ward.

That wasn’t all.

Glen quickly assessed them.

Steady breathing.

Solid physique.

Balanced stance.

Far better than his previous opponent.

Of course.

“Is that the guy?”

“Ha, unbelievable. Some orphanage brat with no fear…”

“He’s insane, totally fearless.”

Despite their trained bodies, their words were utterly crass.

It was inevitable.

If the hall cared about character education, they wouldn’t have clashed with the orphanage kids.

Glen, with an unperturbed expression, bowed politely and said to the hall boys, “Anyone’s fine, so come at me.”

“Ha!”

“That punk…”

“Move. I’ll do it.”

Provoked by Glen’s words, one of the hall boys stepped forward.

His face was red and deeply scowled, clearly furious.

Not just because of the duel challenge.

It was because a ‘poor, lowly orphan’ dared to compete with them.

‘It’s okay.’

Glen thought to himself.

It was true. He was used to such treatment from his beggar days. His past was too harsh to be hurt by this, so he assumed his stance with a calm expression.

“Shall we start?”

“Yeah. Let’s see that fancy swordsmanship that beat Dane Ward.”

The match began.

Glen took a solid stance.

The opponent boy walked forward casually, without tension. Yet, unlike Dane Ward, he didn’t feel easy to dismiss.

But.

‘Not compared to training with the Bosses.’

With a faint smile, Glen shot forward swiftly.

The match was decided.

Once.

Twice.

And finally, a third time.

Having defeated them consecutively, Glen stood in the silent training ground’s center and said, “Ha, ha, phew… Any more opponents?”

* * *

‘Insane, insane, insane…!’

The Seton Hall Master wailed inwardly.

An unbelievable result had unfolded.

Total defeat!

Not as one-sided as with Dane Ward, but three of the hall’s top junior students lost in succession. To one kid!

He couldn’t comprehend.

He couldn’t accept it!

What did this orphanage brat eat to wield such solid, clean swordsmanship?

“Uh, Hall Master…”

“What!”

“What, what should we do?”

“Damn it…”

The master spat a suppressed curse.

He couldn’t let it end like this.

Though already humiliated, an irreversible disaster had occurred… it couldn’t end here. At least the final match had to be their victory to salvage some face.

The problem was, the three boys just sent out were the best in the junior division.

‘Damn, damn…’

Of course, one option remained.

But it required abandoning his conscience, making his last shred of morality as a hall master hesitate.

But that hesitation didn’t last long.

For his honor.

For the hall’s honor!

Thinking he had no choice, the Seton Master whispered to an instructor, who, with a reluctant expression, followed orders and fetched someone.

Moments later, the figure who appeared was…

“What’s that?”

“Who’s that?”

“Is that junior division?”

“No way! That’s clearly an adult!”

“Ahem, ahem! What’s that talk! This boy is firmly in the junior division! He just developed a bit faster than others! He’s 13!”

…A figure with an outrageously massive physique.

Glen looked at the student before him, speechless.

185 cm tall.

At least 90 kg, minimum.

Absurdly, his face showed no trace of youth, looking completely weathered.

‘He could pass for a member of the old Eddy Family…’

The thought crossed his mind.

And it wasn’t just his.

The orphanage boys cheering for Glen began angrily denouncing the opponent.

“This is too much!”

“Boo! Get out! Get out!”

“Glen! This isn’t right! Stop!”

“Yeah! Just curse them and leave! This is crazy!”

“You brats! I’ll say it again, this friend is your age…”

“Don’t talk nonsense! That’s absurd!”

“He’s probably the same age as our director!”

“……”

A flood of complaints.

But the master ignored them as if deaf and blind, and so did the 185 cm student.

Though his stern expression showed he wasn’t pleased, he didn’t release his sword, indicating he wouldn’t avoid the fight. This enraged the orphanage boys further.

But Glen didn’t give up.

He didn’t flee or hide.

After gauging the mood, he said after much thought, “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“……!”

“Glen, no! You don’t have to!”

“Yeah! You’ve done enough already…”

“No. Thanks for worrying, but I’m fine.”

The worried voices poured out even more than when they denounced the Seton Master.

Yet Glen didn’t shy away from the fight. The Seton Master and the giant boy looked incredulous but didn’t retract. Thus, the match was set.

After such an absurd, circus-like matchup was arranged, before the duel began, Glen closed his eyes and recalled the past.

He remembered his beggar days.

‘Come to think of it, back then, I never had anyone cheering for me like this.’

It was inevitable.

The filthiest, lowliest existence.

Crawling through dark, damp places like a cockroach, no one cheered, expected, or believed in him.

Perhaps that’s why he gave up easily, fled, and avoided challenges back then.

He didn’t feel shame, as there was no one to disappoint, no matter how pathetic he was.

‘Not anymore.’

Glen opened his eyes.

He turned to look at the person who brought him here.

Harang.

A peculiar, special man whose thoughts were a mystery, yet more precious to him than anyone.

And not just him.

Thinking of the Eddy Mercenary Corps waiting in Marzen and the local merchants who now looked at him warmly, Glen smiled brightly.

A smile so radiant it felt like his entire body was glowing.

Woo-woo-woong—!

No.

It wasn’t just a smile.

Not as hot and intense as the midday sun.

But a warm, comforting energy, like a winter campfire, circulated through his body, reaching his hand, his sword, and worked a miracle.

An Aura Sword.

A grayish-white energy shimmered like heat waves on his blunt sword, and a deeper smile spread across Glen’s face.

“Come at me.”

The boy spoke.

To the seemingly unbeatable giant, the boy spoke boldly.

No answer came.

Looking at his opponent, now backing away, Glen turned to the Seton Master.

“Looks like I won.”