The World’s Finest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Another World as an Aristocrat - Volume 1 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 | The Assassin Gets His Eyes 

By the time I was seven, my physical strength had increased significantly thanks to my father’s training regimen and my own personal practice. The improved stamina provided by Rapid Recovery had helped me last longer at both.

Cian had discovered the presence of my Rapid Recovery skill during one of my regular medical examinations and had been assigning me extra strength drills that took its effects into account.

One day, I was sent to a mountain within our territory for a mission where I would practice hunting.

While called “hunting,” that was not to imply the purpose was simply to gather food. Trekking through the dangerous terrain would help hone my stamina and agility, and through hunting, I was to sharpen my techniques of pursuit and stealth and my ability to kill quickly.

Beasts had much sharper senses than humans. If I was able to sneak up on a wild animal and kill it in a single strike, then assassinating a human would surely be a piece of cake in comparison.

The mountain itself was free of human development. As such, there were no roads. Wading through the thick, overgrown grass was a trial in itself.

Having set a route, I carefully examined the ground for the faintest sign of potential prey.

“Looks like I’ve found my target for the day.”

Rabbit droppings—and fresh, at that. There were also footprints that led through the grass. At a glance, I could tell they belonged to an Alvanian rabbit, which are known as arte rabbits. They’re big enough to consume large dogs if given the chance.

I dashed swiftly through the trees, cloaking myself in mana and becoming as quick as the wind. I still didn’t know how to use magic, but I had been studying how to manipulate mana.

About halfway to my prey, I jumped into a tree and began to leap from branch to branch. Normally, they would’ve broken under my weight, but my use of mana kept me light enough that such a thing didn’t happen.

It was a nice feeling to manipulate mana as easily as breathing.

In only a few moments, I sighted my prey. Roughly thirty meters ahead, a massive rabbit was digging up some yams and having a feast.

With me situated downwind, the creature wouldn’t pick up on my scent. Rabbits had excellent hearing, however, so it was sure to notice me if I got any closer.

Taking care not to do anything that would give myself away, I hung upside down with my legs hooked over a branch I had been perching on and drew the bow that was slung over my back.

The custom-built bowstring was strung so tight that even adults would’ve had difficulty drawing it back. This was a weapon that required enhanced physical ability.

I released the arrow, and it immediately found purchase. I pierced the large rabbit’s head in a single shot, killing it instantly.

“All right, that concludes this morning’s training.”

I leaped down from the tree and approached the animal’s corpse. After draining the blood and butchering the body, I covered the pieces I wanted in tree bark and placed them in the basket on my back.

On the way home, I also gathered some berries, herbs, and mushrooms.

“Come oooooon, Lugh, won’t you let me do the cooking today?”

“You promised to let me cook on days when I hunt. Please have a seat, Mother.”

After I returned to the estate, I headed straight for the kitchen and began to prepare lunch using the rabbit I’d butchered this morning.

Not only did my meal promise to be delicious, but it would  also help me grow stronger. In order to build a tough physique, I needed to understand nutritional science and take great care with what I ate. Back in my old world, athletes were often given a personal nutritionist from a young age for that very reason.

As advanced as House Tuatha Dé was in many fields of study, their understanding of nutritional science was rather lacking. This was why I tried to cook for myself at least once every few days to ensure I was getting the balanced diet I needed.

Normally, I did my best to obediently do as my mother, Esri, said, but I refused to concede to her this time. I was cooking for my own benefit after all.

Building a strong body was my number one priority. No matter how skilled I became, it wouldn’t mean much if I didn’t have the proper power to back it up.

“Boooo, that’s not fair.” My mother pouted, puffing out her cheeks. As I was trying to think of a response, my father walked into the room.

“Esri, it’s no trouble if Lugh wants to cook this time, is it? Lately, I’ve been starting to think he’s just as promising a chef as he is an assassin. I’m sure whatever he makes will be good. After all, it’s thanks to your wonderful teaching that he’s become so acquainted with the kitchen in the first place,” he said.

“It’s not the food I’m worried about. My mouth is watering already just thinking about how good it will be. As his mother, it fills me with pride that our little Lugh is such a skilled cook. The problem is all his brilliant ideas are putting my cooking to shame,” Esri responded, glaring daggers at me.

“Mother, you’re giving me too much credit. I still have a ways to go before my cooking catches up to yours,” I said.

“Oh-ho, seems he’s not just skilled as a chef but also as a flatterer!” My father guffawed.

“Oh, enough, Cian!” Mother snapped.

This was the scene of a truly happy family. Mother always got this way, and when Father wasn’t working or training, he was always smiling and cracking jokes.

At times, my father even got so cheery that you couldn’t see a hint of the cold-blooded killer he really was, further evidence of his status as a master assassin. His targets would never suspect him before they met their end. He was exceptionally skilled at playing  the part of a generous and sociable person who put others at ease. I’d come to wonder, though, if that wasn’t an act at all. Maybe he truly was the kind of person who genuinely loved his wife and hopelessly doted on his son.

I decided to make cream stew.

Rabbit meat had a mild taste similar to poultry and went well with thick seasoning. The main sources of flavor in this stew were a mellow soup stock prepared with homemade dried mushrooms, and fresh goat milk and butter.

With mushrooms, root vegetables, milk, and ample meat, this stew contained all the nutrients I needed, making it perfect for my growth.

“This pot you made sure is convenient, Lugh,” my mother said. “I can’t believe you were able to make such a thick, delicious stew in just thirty minutes. Are you sure you’re not cheating with some kind of spell? Oh, the long hours I’ve wasted laboring over my own broths in the past!”

“There’s nothing magical about a pressure cooker, Mother. I happened to find out about this technique in a book from the study and thought I’d try it out,” I lied.

The principles behind pressure cooking were straightforward. All you had to do was seal the pot so liquid and vapor couldn’t escape. That caused steam to build up and raise the pressure in the pot, which in turn helped cook the food inside faster. It wasn’t particularly complicated.

“Well, it looks like magic to me!” Cian exclaimed. “You really are smart, Lugh. I have long known that pressure causes this type of phenomenon, but I never would’ve thought to use it for cooking. This flexible way of thinking will serve you well as an assassin, my boy!” my father extolled.

It could, admittedly, get a bit embarrassing when my parents praised me for every single thing I did.

Before long, my cream stew was finished. It was thick and white and looked every bit as decadent as it smelled.

Last year, the family had purchased a large number of goats. Since then, we had plenty of goat milk and butter to use in our cooking.

“Father, Mother, please sit. Let’s eat,” I said.

Thus, we sat down to eat a family lunch.

Mother and I did most of the cooking in the Tuatha Dé household, which was quite rare for nobility. The reason for such an anomaly was rather simple: My mother loved to cook.

When I was five, I’d told her that I’d wanted to start cooking, and she’d been positively thrilled to teach me. Recently, however, my mother’s fear of my cooking ability overtaking hers had stoked a strange sense of competitiveness within her.

Perhaps it’s strange for a son to say this, but something about that combative spirit made her look youthful and cute.

That said, I could’ve done without some of the moments when she babied me. Even though I was now seven years old, she’d recently asked me if I wanted to suckle.

I set the food down on the table. In addition to the rabbit stew, we were also having some salad and bread.

The dining table was quite modest, given the Tuatha Dé family’s noble status. Our meals typically consisted of a main dish, bread, various side dishes, salads, soups, and the occasional dessert.

“This stew is stupendous, Lugh. You would have to be a genius to come up with something like this,” praised my mother.

“Too true! You can’t find stew like this in the capital, even. I bet we could sell this for quite the profit,” my father added.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration. This isn’t anything to get so excited about,” I said.

“You’re too humble, Lugh. Ah, I have an idea! We should serve this stew at this year’s harvest festival! Everyone will love it!”

“Hmm, I think that’s a great idea. The ingredients are cheap, so we’ll stay under the festival’s budget even if we make enough for everyone in our domain. Perhaps this could even become a specialty dish for our land that our people will come to be proud of!”

Seeing Father dote on me as he did, I sometimes started to doubt if he was actually the head of the renowned Tuatha Dé clan of assassins… But it didn’t bother me. It wasn’t so bad to have such  loving parents.

I was certainly having more fun with cooking than I ever had in my previous life.

Truthfully, I’d always been a decent cook. One of the easiest ways to infiltrate any venue to reach a target was by working as a chef. I’d learned the culinary arts because it was convenient for my job as a hired killer. The food I’d made back then, along with the many cuisines I’d sampled for research, had probably all tasted objectively better than the stew.

Curiously, this dish I’d prepared for my parents somehow tasted better than anything I’d known in my previous life. Perhaps it was because I was experiencing feelings my former self had never known.

After we finished eating, my mother began to gather up the dishes and take them to the kitchen. It was a rule in this household that those who didn’t cook had to clean up.

With a serious expression on his face, my father looked me up and down. Once a week before afternoon training, he’d check to see how much I’d grown. Based on that assessment, he’d choose the contents of that day’s training accordingly.

“You’ve grown enough to be able to handle surgery. Today you will receive your Tuatha Dé Mystic Eyes,” he declared.

I gulped.

So it’s that time already, huh? I’d seen the term “Mystic Eyes” show up in various documents in the study.

While I’d been born with the same silver hair as my mother, I had the eyes of neither parent. Mother’s eyes were a vivid shade of blue and Father’s eyes were the color of ash, but my eyes were black.

As it happened, my father’s eyes were black at birth. His eyes had turned gray later in life. That ashen color was proof that one bore the Mystic Eyes of House Tuatha Dé.

The implant surgery had been tested on hundreds of prisoners on death row. It was highly difficult and required mana to perform, but if successful, the patient would gain incredible  perceptive ability.

“I’m ready, Father,” I said.

“Are you scared?”

“No, I trust your skill.”

He may have acted like a total sap when it was just the family, but when it came time to act as the head of the clan, Cian Tuatha Dé was a true professional.

“You have no need to worry. I promise you the surgery will be successful,” he assured me, and for good reason. This was not the first time he’d performed this procedure.

When I awoke, I was greeted by total darkness. Father had wrapped a bandage around my head after finishing the operation.

Once he’d judged it safe to remove the gauze, which was only moments later thanks to my Rapid Recovery skill, I did so and opened my eyes. Immediately, I was overtaken by just how much my vision had been altered.

There was a marked increase in my perception. My long-distance vision had improved as well. Objects in motion appeared far clearer, and it seemed I’d even acquired a stronger sense of depth.

I’d also acquired the ability to see mana. Normally, mana was something one could only sense, yet now I could faintly make out its flow within my body.

Being able to see an opponent’s mana would allow me to predict their movements, a major advantage in any fight. These new eyes of mine were basically cheating.

Unfortunately, such a sudden increase in capability was more than my brain could handle at first, and I was struck by a massive headache. I knew that, before long, Rapid Recovery and Limitless Growth would help my mind adapt and process this new information. For the time being, I would just have to endure.

“Father, it worked. I can see more than ever before,” I said.

“That’s a relief. One day, Lugh, I’ll teach you how to perform this surgery so that you can pass it down to your child.”

“I understand.”

Developed three generations ago, this implantation surgery was one of House Tuatha Dé’s greatest secrets.

“With that business finished, I have good news to share with you. I’m finally able to grant you something that you’ve desired for a long time,” my father revealed.

“Did you find me a mentor who can teach me how to use magic?!” I excitedly asked.

Learning how to cast spells without a teacher was impossible. As such, I’ve wanted a proper instructor since birth. Both Mother and Father were quite used to using mana, but neither knew how to cast proper spells, so they couldn’t teach me. I’d been wanting to learn how to use magic for a long time so that I could finally put my Spell Weaver skill to use.

“That’s right. Your mentor will arrive next week. I suggest you devote yourself to preparing for their arrival,” my father instructed.

An absent element in my previous world, magic, I thought, was likely to end up being a key to the successful assassination of the hero.

My work aside, I was earnestly interested in learning how magic worked. I could hardly contain my excitement.