The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 111

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The Heavenly Supreme Has Died – Episode 111
Dok-ryong was carried away by martial artists to receive treatment.
Dang Yeeran received house arrest from Dokuou and disappeared as well, and in the quieted atmosphere, no one was uttering a word.
An uncomfortable silence persisted, and just as everyone was forcibly keeping their mouths shut, unable to speak carelessly.
Whoosh.
Dokuou, who had been looking forward, turned his back and gazed toward me.
More precisely, it was toward the three from Cheonwol Gate and Muyong Youngsoon.
Just as I found myself flinching involuntarily at his expressionless face.
“I apologize for ruining this banquet despite your gracious participation amid your busy schedule.”
Dokuou spoke and bowed deeply. At that sight, Cheon Euijin and Do-hyeong widened their eyes.
“No, that’s—”
I raised my hand to stop Do-hyeong as he hurriedly tried to speak.
“I accept your apology.”
“…!”
As I spoke calmly, both of their gazes turned toward me.
Their eyes were striking with surprise, but the situation didn’t allow me to dwell on it.
I could see those around me flinch at my words as well.
‘What else could I do? He’s clearly in the wrong this time.’
Whether the other party was the Dang Clan Leader or one of the Five Kings of the Heavens, such things didn’t concern me.
What mattered was that he had given me the moral high ground.
Since Dokuou would know this as well, he showed no wavering in response to my attitude.
“Lord of the Clan.”
“Speak.”
“Whether to continue the banquet or not, I shall follow your wishes, and if you do continue, I am willing to remain in attendance.”
This was half a lie. Honestly, I wanted to end this tedious and uncomfortable banquet.
“But afterward, could you spare me some time?”
Could we meet alone after the banquet ends?
Upon hearing this, Dokuou’s brow furrowed slightly. It seemed he had figured it out.
What I was trying to tell him.
Dokuou narrowed his eyes.
Was he curious how I had figured it out? Or was he surprised that I had figured it out at all?
Either way, it didn’t matter.
If Dokuou reacted this way, it was actually better.
“…Time, you say.”
Dokuou deliberated for a moment. Or rather, he pretended to deliberate.
It was obvious his answer had been decided the moment I opened my mouth.
As if to prove it, Dokuou nodded and spoke shortly after.
“Very well.”
After affirming, he turned his head to address the Dang Clan household and added his words.
“Let the banquet continue. I hope our guests will enjoy themselves further. However, I have matters to attend to and must leave early, so I hope you will understand.”
After finishing his words, Dokuou bowed respectfully to us and took his leave.
Watching him go, I spoke as well.
“It seems I should follow him, so I’ll be back shortly.”
“…Will you be alright?”
At my words, Do-hyeong glanced worriedly at my bandaged arm. Seeing that, I let out a small laugh.
“What could possibly be wrong? Don’t worry.”
To be honest, I’m genuinely nervous.
But what can I do about it?
‘I need to get to work soon.’
I had things I needed to accomplish on my end as well.
To be precise.
‘I need to extract what I can extract.’
This was a situation where I had to secure tangible benefits from the Dang Clan.

* * *
I followed Dokuou into the building. As we entered a corridor with no lanterns lit, Dokuou made a light sweeping motion with his hand.
Then.
Whoosh–!!
‘…Wow.’
Flames ignited on the lanterns along the wall.
I stared at it with wonder. Was this the legendary Sammaejinhwa technique?
They say masters can conjure fire with their bare hands, and it was true.
[It’s merely a parlor trick. Don’t stare at it with such an impressed look. Tsk tsk.]
Yoo Cheon-gil chimed in as if he’d been waiting for this.
I can be impressed if I want to. Anyway, his personality is absolutely terrible.
Creak.
We passed through the corridor and entered the Lord’s chamber. Counting the visits, this was my third time.
Dokuou naturally took his seat, and I followed suit, sitting in the chair across from him.
“Should I call you the Young Sword Saint now?”
That’s what Dokuou said the moment we sat down. I laughed awkwardly at his words.
It seemed he had heard about it.
“It’s an undeserved title. It’s a story that will fade away soon enough anyway.”
“…?”
At my words, Dokuou looked at me with a puzzled expression.
Why was he making that face?
“You think it will fade away?”
“Wouldn’t it?”
“Hmm…. I see.”
He nodded. His expression didn’t seem convinced—there was something strange about his face.
“…Lord of the Clan?”
“I’m curious why you asked to see the Bang Disciple separately.”
I was about to ask why, but Dokuou cut me off.
It felt somewhat awkward, but it wasn’t worth pointing out, so I let it slide.
“…I believe you already know why I requested this private meeting, Lord of the Clan.”
“I’m not sure.”
His face feigned ignorance.
I wondered if he was playing dumb.
“There are quite a few things that come to mind. Which one is it?”
‘Hah.’
It wasn’t playing dumb—it was a direct fastball instead.
This man clearly knew.
That I had much to say to him.
His response suggested he didn’t want to drag this out.
I welcomed that approach as well.
So I spoke without hesitation.
“Regarding Bigo, regarding Pacheongung, regarding compensation, and regarding your recent attempt to test me using Dok-ryong. Which of these four topics shall we discuss first?”
“….”
I laid out the words without pause. Naturally, Dokuou’s eyes narrowed at the fourth topic among the four subjects.
After hearing my words, silence fell.
I waited for Dokuou’s response.
Until then, he said nothing.
Time passed like that.
“…I see.”
Dokuou finally responded.
The problem was.
“I’ve been thinking about this for some time.”
What came next from Dokuou was.
“You certainly seem to resemble your maternal grandfather quite a bit, Bang Disciple.”
“Pardon?”
It was a different response than I’d anticipated.
I’d heard countless remarks about resembling family members.
I’d heard many times that I resembled my father or grandfather.
“My maternal grandfather?”
Suddenly my maternal grandfather?
At my reaction, Dokuou nodded slightly.
“Jegal Jin. You certainly resemble him far more than your father, Bang Disciple.”
“…What?”
[…Huh?]
At Dokuou’s words, both I and Yoo Cheon-gil, who had been silent, seemed to malfunction simultaneously.

* * *
Splash.
The Old Man walked across the moisture-laden floor. With only one arm, he kept his remaining hand clasped behind his back.
His frost-rimmed eyes surveyed the surroundings as he continued forward.
Splash. Splash.
With each step, a sound like water echoed, yet it was not water.
What saturated the parched ground was a vivid crimson—blood.
The blood had overflowed beyond merely soaking the floor.
The Old Man trampled through it without hesitation.
He showed no concern, no regard whatsoever.
It was only natural. After all, I was the one who had created this spectacle.
Then.
“Kgh… Uuugh….”
A man in the corner coughed blood, drool dripping from his lips.
At the sound, the Old Man’s gaze turned toward him.
By the time I noticed, I had already closed the distance to stand before the man.
“Kgh… Hueuh….”
The vast distance collapsed in an instant. Terror bloomed in the man’s eyes as he grasped the situation.
“Why… how… why….”
Why had such a monster suddenly appeared?
“The Sword Emperor… you are….”
“Shh.”
The moment he mentioned my epithet, I raised my withered, aged index finger to my lips.
“Be silent.”
At the warning, the man’s mouth snapped shut.
It was not of his own volition. His mouth had been forcibly sealed by my words.
“I have not yet commanded you to speak.”
Grrrrrrring.
With my words, vibrations rippled across the blood-soaked ground.
The blades scattered across the floor trembled, then began to rise slowly into the air.
“…!!”
The man, his mouth sealed shut, trembled violently at the sight.
It was a grotesque spectacle beyond measure.
Dozens of swords rose from their fallen masters and soared into the void.
They danced in circles through the confined space.
With countless blades drifting through the air, the scene defied all description.
The Sword Emperor.
Or the Supreme Swordsman of All Under Heaven.
Though I had not reached the pinnacle of the Heavenly Supreme due to the divine existence known as the Sword Saint.
In the mastery of the blade alone, I was unrivaled throughout the realm.
The Sword Emperor of the Orthodox Sect, who had slaughtered demons while wielding hundreds of blades on the battlefield.
The man who faced him directly could do nothing but feel terror.
Every single one of his comrades who had filled this place was already dead.
Only he remained.
Yet the man already knew his own fate.
Whoosh—! Whoooosh—!!
Among the floating blades, the Old Man opens his mouth again.
“I will ask you.”
At those words, the man’s lips lose their strength.
“Where is the Palace Master?”
“…”
Even if he could speak, it was not something he could answer.
There was only one thing he could say at this point.
“…Die… yourself…”
“…”
Perhaps displeased with the meager words he managed to utter, the Old Man’s expression crumples slightly.
“Hmm.”
As if he’d expected this all along, the Old Man quickly dismisses it.
“A pity.”
Thwack—!
A blade flies in and severs the man’s neck.
The lifeless body falls lightly to the ground.
And once more, blood spills forth to fill the space.
Splatter.
The Old Man who killed the last survivor turns and heads somewhere.
It was toward where a desk existed within the space.
He gathers the letters piled there and examines them with his eyes.
“…”
After examining several documents, the Old Man exhales a dry breath.
They are filled with ciphers.
It seemed they had indeed made it difficult to decipher.
His eyes gleam as he attempts to decode them, but he soon gives up.
With ciphers of this complexity, he cannot decipher them on the spot, and besides, it lies beyond his capabilities.
“…”
Knowing this, the Sword Emperor gathers the letters and tucks them into his robes.
Still, it is not without gain.
He has finally traced the whereabouts of those he had not caught in recent years.
It is unfortunate not to have obtained more information.
But torture would be useless on them anyway.
As long as they bear a seal, the Sword Emperor would never obtain information about the Palace Master he seeks.
I’d killed them without wasting any unnecessary time.
“Hmm.”
Not bad.
“It seems I made the right choice accepting Wol Seon-geom’s request.”
Yoo Cheon-gil.
I’d come merely to see him after hearing that his predecessor had appeared.
Moreover, whether that claim was false or true, if I hadn’t been satisfied—
‘I would have killed him.’
The Sword Emperor would have severed his neck without hesitation.
‘But not yet.’
It seemed worth observing him for now.
He was the one who’d led me to find these people in the first place, and even setting that aside—
‘He’s hiding something.’
There was more to him than what he possessed.
Whether this “predecessor” business was genuine or merely a suspicious coincidence remained unclear.
Yoo Cheon-gil.
That man harbored many secrets as well.
Was his successor no different?
The Old Man chuckled at the thought that had crossed his mind.
In that instant—
Clang! Clang clang! Clang!
Dozens of suspended swords crashed to the ground all at once.
Blood sprayed everywhere, yet none of it touched the Old Man, as if guided by some ghostly force.
Without hesitation, the Old Man stepped out of the dungeon.
His mind now held only thoughts of the letter.
Moreover, there seemed to be a place he needed to visit.
If the cipher proved problematic and he couldn’t decipher it—
He would simply seek out someone capable of solving it.
The problem was—
‘Do I really have to see that irritating face?’
The person he needed to find was hardly someone he welcomed.
‘…Jegal Jin.’
The Old Man recalled a certain name in his mind.
Heavenly Mile Piercing Eyes.
The current Lord of the Jegal Clan.
A man known as the Sword Saint’s eyes and ears.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————