The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 117

—————
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 117
Clang-! Clang clang-!
From early morning, the cacophony of sound invaded my ears.
Along with it came the familiar scorching heat that seared the tip of my nose.
It was hot. Every time I came here, I felt it—truly sweltering.
The kind of heat that would drench me in sweat in moments, and feeling it, I stepped inside.
Clang-! Clanging-!!
At the sound of violent metalwork, I grimaced. That sharp ringing still wasn’t something I’d grown accustomed to.
Cheogang.
The primary source of income for the Dang Clan and the space that maximized their renown.
It was a place that boasted such tremendous standing that the majority of the Central Plains’ finest blades were said to be born here.
Though I’d already visited several times, this heat remained relentless.
‘The heat itself is one thing.’
Clang-! Clang-!
The sounds I heard kept resonating within my chest.
A sound that struck the soul. It was that spirit-stirring sensation created by master craftsmen who had reached the pinnacle of their art.
‘Tsk.’
It wasn’t easy for so many master blacksmiths to gather in one place. This truly was worthy of being called the gathering place of the Central Plains’ finest blacksmiths.
It was fascinating the first time I came. Now it was even more so.
And.
“You’ve arrived.”
The Old Man before me was an existence who had reached the pinnacle even among such master blacksmiths.
“We greet the Iron Master.”
“…We greet the Iron Master.”
Dang Yeeran and I bowed respectfully to the Old Man.
The Old Man then chuckled.
“I heard you’ve been through quite an ordeal and your body isn’t in good condition. Are you sure it’s alright to be out like this?”
“…It’s fine. I wasn’t injured that severely, after all.”
“Is that so? Youth truly is a blessing!”
He laughed heartily and patted my shoulder roughly.
My bones rang out, and I nearly let out an involuntary cry.
“I-Iron Master. The young master is still recovering.”
Dang Yeeran saw this and quickly intervened. At that, the Iron Master looked toward her.
But the gazes didn’t stop there.
From the moment Dang Yeeran appeared, I felt the blacksmiths in Cheogang stealing glances in our direction.
Those eyes carried an emotion I’d felt before, but it was thoroughly tinged with something quite unsettling.
It was awkward enough that I preferred not to mention what it was.
“The Patriarch told me you’d repair a blade with Silent Steel?”
“…That’s correct.”
“A Silent Steel blade repair—if it’s the Patriarch’s command, I could handle it myself, couldn’t I?”
The Iron Master looked at me with eyes questioning why he would entrust this to Dang Yeeran.
“Do you not have other matters requiring your attention, Iron Master?”
The repairs to Manwol, of all things.
Previously, I had merely managed a hasty restoration, but now the Iron Master had taken it back to begin proper repairs in earnest.
“That’s true enough, but if it’s truly urgent, I could prioritize this instead.”
…
At those words, I looked at Dokjon again. Wouldn’t this actually be the better option? I regarded him with such eyes, but—
[Not a chance.]
Dokjon’s resolve remained unwavering.
“…No. I have already made up my mind to entrust this task to the young lady of the Dang Clan.”
“Hmm….”
I too would love nothing more than to entrust it to you.
But what can I do when the client refuses?
At my words, the Iron Master narrows his gaze, looking toward Dang Yeeran.
I notice Dang Yeeran flinch under his stare.
What is he trying to say? The atmosphere around us feels heavy, and his clear displeasure is concerning.
Worried he might object, I watch him carefully.
“I have prepared the black iron, and the furnace will be the issue, so it would be better to use my room.”
…!
At the Iron Master’s words, Dang Yeeran’s eyes widen.
Moreover, those words provoke a fierce reaction from those around us.
“…Iron Master. What do you mean by that?”
“You would allow her to use the furnace?”
“That is—!”
“Silence.”
The Iron Master’s growl cuts through the air, and the surroundings fall instantly quiet.
He suppresses the murmuring atmosphere with a single word.
‘His presence is no joke.’
He doesn’t seem to be making any particular display, yet he overwhelms through sheer force of presence alone.
“How many furnaces in Cheogang can melt black iron? And of those, how many are usable now?”
“That may be so… but to use it, one must….”
“What? You think one must be a candidate for the next Iron Master? Such antiquated thinking is precisely why you cannot forge proper blades.”
Tsk tsk tsk.
The Iron Master laughs as he speaks.
“Did not the previous Iron Master say the same? Stop wasting time on useless formalities and forge blades properly.”
At those words, Dokjon, who stands above, lets out a quiet chuckle.
The previous Iron Master. That was none other than Dokjon himself.
“…Even so, we cannot disregard tradition. Especially….”
One of the blacksmiths glances at Dang Yeeran as he speaks.
“…I do not believe it appropriate for one who is not yet prepared to use it.”
One who is unprepared.
At those words, Dang Yeeran’s shoulders shrank, and I observed her reaction while processing the situation in my mind.
‘The treatment is quite different, isn’t it?’
It was something I’d been feeling all along—Dang Yeeran’s treatment was decidedly poor.
Even though she was a direct blood relative, if things were like this, something was clearly wrong.
‘Hmm.’
I confirmed it with a sidelong glance. There was no way I could point it out or interfere here anyway.
“That’s true enough.”
At the Blacksmith’s words, the Iron Master nodded.
“That’s why I’m giving her a chance.”
“A chance, you say?”
“I’ll allow her to use the furnace, but this is her last opportunity.”
The Iron Master regarded Dang Yeeran with sharp eyes.
“If she fails to do this properly as well, the young lady of the Dang Clan is forbidden from entering the Iron Works henceforth.”
“…!”
At the Iron Master’s words, Dang Yeeran startled and lifted her head.
“Master….”
“If you accept, I will allow you to use the furnace.”
The Iron Master’s voice was unwavering. It was resolute, absolutely resolute, as if he would never back down.
This wasn’t good.
“Master. Though it may be presumptuous, I believe this is a matter the Lord of the Clan has already approved.”
From what I heard, it seemed that to use the dark iron, one needed to use a different furnace as well.
And it seemed the Iron Master’s permission was required for that.
If Dang Yeeran made a mistake here—
‘She’d be finished from here on out.’
I had to prevent that. So I tried to steer the situation somehow, but—
“Listen, regarding this matter—”
“Whatever the Lord of the Clan may have said, the Iron Works is the domain of the Blacksmiths.”
The Iron Master cut off my words with intensity in his eyes.
“Because of his word, I can allow some leeway, but anything beyond this crosses the line. Is that not so, young lady of the Dang Clan?”
“….”
Dang Yeeran bit her lip.
“Choose. Will you step forward, or will you retreat?”
The Iron Master pressed Dang Yeeran for an answer.
Watching that, my brow furrowed.
‘This is something.’
What does metalwork mean to Dang Yeeran?
I don’t know.
I don’t honestly care what her life has been like.
I’m too busy surviving myself to give meaning to someone else’s goals or convictions.
Simply.
‘She was desperate.’
I understood that she harbored such desperation in that place.
Why she didn’t flaunt such talent.
Why she feared blood so deeply.
I couldn’t understand it, nor did I wish to.
Yet I knew one thing—her desperation.
‘Without desperation, it makes no sense.’
To infuse one’s soul into an action.
That was not merely a matter of talent alone.
Because she yearned, and yearned again.
Because she desired, and desired again.
Only through such desperation does the soul respond.
The talent that seeps into that place is merely a footnote.
So then.
What was the sound that Dang Yeeran had produced?
How deeply had her soul resonated? My memory, uselessly sharp, still held it vividly.
‘That was.’
A sound that could not be obtained without the utmost desperation.
Because I understood that.
“What nonsense are you spouting—”
I was about to snap at the Iron Master without thinking.
“I will do it.”
Dang Yeeran cut off my words and took a step forward.
“…I will do it.”
“…”
“Please let me do this.”
“Heh.”
At Dang Yeeran’s words, the Iron Master let out a hollow laugh.
“Do you know that your ability to come to Cheogang is my generosity? The Lord of the Clan opposed it, yet I insisted.”
“…Yes. I understand well. I am always grateful, and I will be grateful for my entire life.”
“Yet you still insist on doing this? Blacksmiths who can handle Blacksteel are few and far between even in Cheogang. That’s how difficult it is.”
“I understand that too. I am very afraid.”
“At best, you’ve only held a few pieces of iron in your hands. You’ve never even touched Blacksteel, have you?”
“No. But I still want to try.”
“Hmm.”
Dang Yeeran’s voice trembled at first, but grew clearer with each word she spoke.
The Iron Master, who had been watching her intently,
“Ha—!”
soon dispelled his anger and burst into a hearty laugh.
“Enter.”
Permission was granted.
“The conditions remain unchanged.”
“Yes.”
Dang Yeeran moved forward, passing the Iron Master.
I, who had been watching, followed along behind her small frame.
“Tsk….”
As I passed the Iron Master, I heard him emit a low clicking sound with his tongue.
I wondered if it was displeasure.
But I could discern that worry and compassion filled that sound completely.
The expression he now wore.
Was identical to the face Dokjon had shown when gazing at Dang Yeeran.

* * *
Whoooosh—!
The moment I stepped into the room, a heat incomparable to before came rushing down upon us.
It was suffocating.
Drip—! Sweat had already beaded on my forehead, a single drop rolling down.
‘…I’m going to die here?’
What kind of heat is this?
It exceeded imagination.
‘…Is this the space the Iron Master uses?’
So he creates weapons while enduring such heat.
I found myself genuinely impressed by the Iron Master.
“…What is….”
Then, Dang Yeeran strode forward and examined something.
At first glance, it was a furnace.
However, it looked slightly different in shape from the furnaces I had seen on the way here.
Primarily.
‘The size is enormous.’
The furnace’s sheer bulk was remarkable.
Wondering what this was and why it was so different, I stared at it.
“This furnace generates far more heat than the others.”
Dang Yeeran, sensing the intent behind my gaze, began to explain.
“For ordinary iron, a standard furnace would suffice… but for special minerals like Muk-iron, a regular furnace simply cannot melt it.”
“So that’s why you use this one?”
“Yes. And.”
Dang Yeeran picked up something beside her. It looked like charcoal at first glance.
“It’s called Sacred Spirit Charcoal. It’s charcoal made from Sacred Spirit wood that grows only in the distant Gyewon Mountain Range to the north.”
“…Is it something different?”
“Yes. Using this will allow me to increase the firepower significantly.”
Spirit Wood? It was a tree I had never heard of before.
‘…It’s certainly different.’
I began to understand why it was called Spirit Wood.
‘I can sense the presence of a soul.’
Even though it had become charcoal, I could feel something faintly clinging to it. The Gyewon Mountain Range, was it? What kind of place was it that such a divine tree existed there?
‘It’s somewhat shallow to call it a divine tree.’
But the presence of a soul within it certainly made it a divine tree.
It seemed there were immortals in that place. Divine trees could only exist where immortals were present.
Recalling that, I etched the name Gyewon Mountain Range into my mind.
‘I must never go near that place.’
I would make sure not to visit under any circumstances.
In my past life, those immortals had particularly disliked me, and it seemed this life would be no different, so I needed to be careful.
Anyway.
Dang Yeeran, holding the charcoal of that Spirit Wood, approached the furnace and began placing the charcoal inside.
Not long after.
화르르르륵—!!!
The fire spread across the charcoal, and heat began to fill the furnace.
Watching that, I spoke to Dang Yeeran.
“…Are you really going to do this?”
At my words, Dang Yeeran laughed.
“You asked me to, didn’t you?”
“I did ask, but you don’t have to force yourself to do this.”
Because it was Dokjon’s request, I could tell that handling Dark Iron was no easy task.
And if she made a mistake with this, she wouldn’t be able to enter Cheogang again.
I didn’t like that Dang Yeeran was bearing the risk.
At my words, Dang Yeeran stared directly at me.
“Didn’t you say so? That you trust me.”
At those words, I awkwardly scratched the back of my head.
“No, that’s….”
That wasn’t what I meant by trust, and it was a lie.
“Then please trust me just a little more….”
Sensing something from my words.
The smile Dang Yeeran wore was fresher than before.
“And if things go wrong, I just won’t enter Cheogang.”
“What?”
“I can just find another blacksmith instead. Is Cheogang the only blacksmith around?”
“…Heh.”
A hollow laugh escaped me at her bold words.
I wondered where such confidence came from.
‘…No, that’s not it. She’s not confident.’
I couldn’t help but notice the anxiety dwelling in her eyes.
So I simply smiled.
“Yes. I will trust you.”
I merely did as instructed.
Maintaining such a narrow-minded resolve.
Just as before, I decided to feign trust in her.
That was my best effort.

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