The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story After Rebirth

Chapter 429: Meeting Ruben

Fortunately, climbing mountains was one of Isolde’s strengths, so the journey posed no real obstacles. The landscape of Argentum was nearly barren, but here, in the mountains, the wild grass, though not as lush as it would be in the spring or summer, was far from completely dead. The path she followed was mostly devoid of trees. The ground, a reddish hue, was exposed, with ice only covering parts of it. It made sense that this place was called Venton Mount.

Occasionally, she saw a few snakes slithering through the withered grass. It was strange—during winter, snakes usually hibernated, yet these creatures were out and about. But as Isolde thought about it, it became clear. Ruben, being a snake trainer, must have a method to wake these snakes from their winter slumber and use them.

The snakes didn’t seem aggressive, however, and Isolde found herself puzzled. Why would Ruben keep them here? The closer she got to the peak, the colder the air became, and the ground was covered in thick ice. Yet, the sight of snakes sliding across the ice fascinated her. She had never seen anything like it before.

She guessed that Oliver had to be hidden away, for if he stepped onto the ice, he’d be spotted. But what confused her even more was that the snakes seemed to follow her, and some even passed her by.

When she finally reached the top of Venton Mount, she saw a man standing with a sword, his form blending with the icy surroundings. It was clear now—the snakes weren’t there for defense; they were his spies. Isolde couldn’t help but admire the man’s ingenuity, using snakes as scouts.

“Get over there and stand still,” came a cold voice as the tip of a sword pointed directly at Isolde’s head.

Isolde raised both hands, slowly lifting her head to look at the man. He was a gaunt middle-aged man, dressed in white, almost blending into the snow and ice around him. His face was sharp and cold, with eyes like frozen deep waters. His aquiline nose added to the severe expression. He didn’t appear to be from the Eryndral Empire. He seemed to be in his forties, but his gray temples and the deep furrows above his brows made him seem older. Though his posture was straight, a slight curve in his back suggested the weight of time.

This had to be Ruben. Isolde remembered Oliver’s description of Ruben: three obsessions—martial arts, women, and food—and three rules—no kindness, no reasoning, and no speaking to men. Looking at him now, he seemed like a man who sought nothing more than a life free of entanglements.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice dripping with disdain. “What do you want here at Venton Mount?”

Isolde, exhausted from the climb and now standing under the pointed tip of his sword, shivered from the cold wind that bit into her skin. “I’m Isolde. I heard there was a great martial artist here, and I’ve come to learn from you.”

He narrowed his eyes, sizing her up with a coldness that seemed to freeze the very air. “You? Do you think you can learn from me? Tell me who you are and where you come from.”

Isolde turned her head slightly, but he snapped, “Don’t move.”

Isolde lowered her hands and said, “I’m Isolde. My father is Duke Geoffrey, and my grandfather is Garrett.”

Ruben’s voice turned even colder. “Geoffrey’s daughter. And your mother… is she that foul woman, Prunella?”

Isolde’s eyes flashed with anger. “She is my mother, but don’t speak of her like that.”

Ruben smirked cruelly. “You’re standing here, with a sword pointed at your head, and you dare to speak back? It seems you really are her daughter.”

“Don’t insult my mother,” Isolde said, her voice firm.

The sword pressed harder against her forehead, drawing blood that immediately froze into ice, halting the bleeding.

“If you scream again, I’ll make sure you die right here,” Ruben threatened coldly.

Isolde felt a knot tighten in her chest. Was this man really her mother’s enemy? If that was the case, convincing him to give her the Crimson Serpent’s blood would be nearly impossible. She’d have to soften her approach for now and figure out a way to win him over later.

She lowered her gaze and said softly, “I’m sorry. I was rude. Please forgive me.”

The sword moved away from her head, and Ruben scoffed, “Get down there.”

Isolde breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She lifted her gaze, meeting his cold eyes. “I came to learn from you. If you refuse to fight, I won’t leave until I do.”

“You’re not worthy to face me,” Ruben said, sheathing his sword. “I’m in a good mood today. Leave now, while you still can. If I change my mind, your life will be forfeit.”

He whistled sharply, and the snakes that had been trailing her suddenly surged toward him, their heads raised, hissing at Isolde.

This scene felt strangely familiar to Isolde. She suddenly recalled how Cristina had been surrounded by Rosemary’s snakes. Did Rosemary know Ruben? It was possible, but surely there wasn’t much of a bond between them. If there had been, Rosemary might have helped her out. More likely, they had a history, one that involved more than just snakes.

She decided to probe. “Your snakes are strange. It’s winter, and yet they’re active. When you whistled earlier, they obeyed you? It reminds me of how Rosemary trained her snakes.”

Ruben’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing. “You know Her?”

Isolde nodded. “I do.”

“Who is she to you?” His tone grew sharp.

Isolde hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much about her relationship with Rosemary. “She’s just someone I know. She sent me here to learn from you, as she said you were an expert.”

“So, she sent you to kill me?” Ruben snarled, his anger flaring. “That vile woman! I retreat to Venton Mount, and she still wants to kill me?”

So, it was Rosemary who had wronged him. Isolde’s mind raced. It wasn’t her mother who had angered him; it was Rosemary. Because her mother had once been close to Rosemary, Ruben had taken his anger out on her. What had happened between them? Was it related to the snakes?

She thought about what Sadie had said: Victoria knew about the remedy for Natasha but had never mentioned it, because of the danger. This wasn’t just a personal feud—it was something deeper, something more dangerous.

“I grew up in Windermount,” Isolde said carefully. “I don’t know much about my mother’s relationship with Rosemary. But I’ve always been passionate about martial arts. When I heard that someone like you was here, I had to come.”

Ruben didn’t seem convinced. “So, she sent you here just to spar with me? What else did she ask of you?”

Isolde’s mind raced, and she quickly formulated a response. “She said I would be able to defeat you. There’s something she said you would only tell me after I won.”

Ruben’s expression turned even darker. “What did she say?”

Isolde shook her head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t won yet, so I can’t say.”

“Tell me now,” Ruben demanded, his voice cold and threatening. “If you don’t, I’ll throw you off the mountain, and you’ll die here.”