The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 118

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Heavenly Supreme Has Died – Episode 118
Drip.
Drip.
Water droplets fell to the floor.
There were quite a lot of them falling.
The problem was that they were all streaming from the end of my chin.
‘This heat is absolutely unbearable.’
How long had it been? I hadn’t kept track of time, but it was certainly no short span.
“…I’m dying of thirst.”
My throat had completely dried from all the sweat I’d shed.
An endless thirst welled up within me, yet I remained rooted to my spot.
I couldn’t move.
How could I move while watching that?
Ssshhiiing—!
Before me, Dang Yeeran had her hair tied tightly back, repeating her movements within the scorching heat.
Despite the sweat pouring down her face, not a single tremor or sign of fatigue appeared.
How intensely focused was she?
‘It’s fascinating.’
This was the first time I’d watched someone forge or repair a blade from such close proximity.
Filling the charcoal, igniting the flames.
Then placing something else inside.
It was a repetition of incomprehensible actions.
I glanced sideways at the forge.
I could see dark minerals piled up. They appeared to be blacksteel.
‘…So the Dang Clan really does have considerable wealth.’
To have such precious blacksteel stacked like that.
The quantity wasn’t enormous by any measure, but it was enough to buy several houses in Hannam.
‘Yet they gave it away without hesitation.’
Even though I’d made a request, it wasn’t just any material—it was blacksteel for repairs.
Even if Dokuou had permitted me to use any materials I wished, something about this still felt off.
‘They gave it, and I took it, but they won’t bring up anything strange about it later, will they?’
There was a possibility Dokuou might use the blacksteel as leverage for some nonsense.
Given his nature, such tactics seemed unlikely, but one can never be certain about people.
‘I’ve already thought of something for this.’
I’d already devised a plan.
If Dokuou tried to press the matter, I’d use it.
If he didn’t….
‘Then I’ll extract something else from him.’
I intended to use it to gain an advantage.
‘What else could I get from him?’
If I were to extract more, what could I possibly gain?
I’ve already obtained more than enough from Sichuan, so I wonder if there’s anything left to extract.
‘Gains are always worth taking when possible.’
As long as it’s not caused by a ghost, it’s right to take what I can when I can.
While I was thinking this way and recalling my plans.
Sizzzzle.
I heard the sound of something cooking.
Looking ahead, Dang Yeeran was pouring something onto a hard surface.
‘…That.’
Had she melted black iron? It seemed so.
She pushed the flowing black iron into the mold.
Her movements were so precise that there wasn’t a single tremor.
‘She’s using that to repair it.’
Dang Yeeran, who had been pouring black iron into the mold, examined the divine sword placed beside her.
The handle and blade were already separated.
What she was observing was the blade portion.
What was she examining so intently? I tilted my head and watched.
[She’s observing the blade’s hardness and thickness.]
Dokjon approached my side and offered an explanation.
[It’s impossible to repair or attach a blade that’s already broken. So ultimately, she must create a new one. That’s why she examines the original blade.]
“…To make it identical, then?”
[That’s not it.]
“Then what?”
[Identical doesn’t exist. For a repair, what matters is how closely you can match it.]
“Isn’t that the same thing you just said?”
[Well. If you understood this difference, you should have become a blacksmith.]
Dokjon chuckled as he spoke.
“Hmm.”
After observing Dokjon, I looked back at Dang Yeeran.
And I spoke to Dokjon.
“Elder.”
[What is it?]
Dang Yeeran seemed too focused to hear our conversation anyway.
So I asked.
“Is Lady Dang your lingering attachment?”
[…]
Dokjon lost his words at my question.
“Is it possible that your lingering attachment to remain in this world is that woman?”
[…chuckle chuckle…]
Instead of an answer, I heard laughter.
That was enough.
“At first, I wondered if that divine sword was your lingering attachment, but it wasn’t.”
[…How could you think such a thing?]
“How and what—from the start, you were never beside the divine sword, were you?”
[….]
If the divine sword were the lingering attachment, you should have stayed near it, not near Dang Yeeran.
Was that how Dokjon was? No.
“You were only ever beside Lady Dang. As if you had no interest in the divine sword whatsoever.”
If there’s no lingering attachment, the phrasing becomes awkward.
To put it plainly.
‘Secondary priority.’
It seemed more accurate to say that Dang Yeeran held higher priority than the divine sword.
So I thought.
‘Dokjon’s lingering attachment is not the divine sword, but rather.’
Could it be Dang Yeeran?
[I ask, but does that change anything?]
“No. Not particularly….”
Whether it’s the Celestial Demon Divine Sword.
Or Dang Yeeran.
That wasn’t what mattered.
What mattered was.
“Ultimately, why Lady Dang must repair that sword. That’s all I’m curious about.”
Whatever the lingering attachment might be.
I don’t understand the method used to resolve it.
“What do you want?”
I lifted my head and looked at Dokjon.
[…You’re already certain.]
Dokjon spoke, meeting my gaze.
[That this is to resolve my lingering attachment.]
“Of course.”
How could I not know that.
“Ghosts act to resolve their lingering attachments by their very nature. That is their essence.”
[…Interesting?]
“You see, ghosts instinctively seek to achieve enlightenment.”
Actions taken to fulfill a lingering attachment.
That is ultimately a step toward enlightenment.
“Whatever action is taken, it’s directly connected to the lingering attachment, so this would be the same.”
[….]
“That’s why I’m curious. If the restoration of the divine sword were the lingering attachment, I’d let it pass.”
But that’s not what you are.
“I’m curious why you entrusted that to your granddaughter.”
[You act like you’re just following orders, so why are you curious about this?]
That was a fair point. I had hoped to simply complete what I was asked and have no further involvement.
But.
“Just in case.”
[Hmm?]
“Just in case your lingering attachment is having a negative influence on Lady Dang. That thought suddenly occurred to me.”
[Huh? And if it were?]
“If it were, then…”
I nodded as I spoke.
“I’d have to exorcise her. She’s a damned demon after all.”
[….]
Dokjon’s eyes narrowed at my words.
I wondered if he might burst into anger at such a harsh remark.
I watched with interest to see what would happen.
[Hehehehe….]
What came from his lips was laughter.
[You make it so clear you don’t want to be involved. Why? Are you worried about that child?]
“Not worried exactly. It just feels uncomfortable this way.”
We had become acquainted.
I knew her name and we had spoken.
That was the problem.
‘This is exactly why I avoid getting involved.’
Even the slightest entanglement makes me care.
The cursed remnants of my past life still lingered within me.
How many demons had I burned and destroyed, and how much of my karma had been tainted in the process?
In this life, I wanted nothing to do with demons.
‘And yet.’
This discomfort was better than the alternative.
As I contemplated this, I looked at Dokjon.
[…A negative influence, you say.]
The old man gazed at his granddaughter with a troubled expression.
Clang!
Dang Yeeran was striking the glowing molten iron she had pulled from the forge with her hammer.
Watching her, the corners of Dokjon’s eyes gradually drooped.
[I have no certainty. Only….]
Clang!
[I can only hope it is not so.]
“….”
I took in the sight of Dokjon and, watching him quietly for a moment, released a long sigh.
“Sigh…”
I exhaled and scratched the back of my head.
“…Does your attachment depend on Lady Dang’s success or failure?”
[Why are you asking that?]
“If that’s the case, I thought I’d meddle a bit.”
[…What?]
Dokjon stared at me with widened eyes upon hearing my words.
The weight of his anticipation made me quickly add more.
“But let me be clear—I won’t lend my body like that ridiculous old man did.”
Could another ghost even enter my body besides Yoo Cheon-gil? I’d never tried. I had no desire to.
What I could offer Dokjon was something different.
“I’m just offering some meddlesome advice. Will you accept it?”
[…]
At my words, contemplation crossed Dokjon’s face.
The answer was already decided anyway.

* * *
I left Cheogang and returned to the residence.
Absurdly, night had already fallen outside.
Not quite deep night, but the time when the sun was beginning to set.
I thought considerable time had passed, but I never expected the sun to have gone down.
Seeing that, I ran my hand through my hair in frustration.
“Damn.”
It wasn’t that I regretted wasting time.
I was irritated that I’d meddled.
“…I didn’t want to do this.”
In this life.
At least in this life, I’d resolved not to meddle in foolish matters even if it killed me.
Yet I couldn’t hold back and went ahead with it.
“I should have just stayed quiet.”
Whether Dang Yeeran succeeded or failed.
I should have simply observed the outcome without interfering.
Dokjon’s request was merely to urge Dang Yeeran to repair the sword.
It wasn’t asking me to help her succeed.
“Damn it…”
I’d unnecessarily stepped in.
Curses came naturally.
‘Why did I do that?’
I could have stayed quiet, so why did I?
When I thought about the reason, it was nothing special.
‘Because she looked so desperate.’
The way she concentrated, the way she spoke to the Iron Master.
Desperately trying to accomplish something, anything.
I was impressed that despite sweating so profusely, she never wore a single expression of exhaustion.
There were reasons for this.
And perhaps the biggest reason was here.
“…That old man Dokjon is the problem.”
It was Dokjon.
“Why does he have to look at her like that?”
The way he looked at Dang Yeeran was the problem.
The way he gazed at her as she concentrated.
‘It was like.’
In my past life, the way my grandmother looked at me just before she died.
Thinking of that, of all things.
That’s why I did it.
‘How foolish of me.’
I clicked my tongue and bit my lip.
“Sigh.”
I don’t know anymore.
I’ve done what I needed to do.
Part of me wants to watch until the very end, but I don’t know when it will finish.
‘Staying there any longer would only be a hindrance.’
It seemed right to step back for now.
Besides, I had things to do on my end as well.
Normally, or rather, even this morning I absolutely despised doing it.
“…Somehow I feel provoked.”
Watching Dang Yeeran move with such tenacity, I felt unnecessarily compelled to work hard too.
Whatever that might be.
“Exhale.”
I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.
Strength slowly drained from my body.
When I opened my eyes again.
I had entered a pure white world.
“….”
Displeasure rose the moment I saw it.
Even more so because the future ahead became clear.
Before I could even turn my head, I saw a sword planted before me.
“Right.”
I approached it, grasped it, and pulled it free.
“…Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The moment I drew my sword, a rock and a man appeared before me.
My heart lurched.
It was the man’s gaze that made my heart do so.
Terror flooded through me.
My back stiffened, my muscles tensed, and all my strength coiled tight.
I gripped the sword with all my might and spoke.
“…I was going to ask. How many—”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“—years old are you?”
I died in the middle of speaking.
“Damn it.”
A curse erupted from my lips.
I hadn’t even noticed when I died.
By the time I realized it, the moment had shifted.
The rock and the man appeared before me again.
“…Your temper is remarkably impatient.”
Last time, at least I could manage a conversation.
This time, it seemed he’d spent his adolescence in such a foul mood that even that was impossible.
“…Sigh.”
I exhaled and accepted the truth.
“This night will be quite long.”
Until this illusion breaks.
It seemed it would take far longer than last time.
Thinking so, I raised my sword toward the man and spoke.
“Come.”
As always.
Enduring unwillingly and memorizing came naturally to me.
And so.
In the white night, I faced death upon death.

* * *
Chirp—! Chirp—!
The sound of birds reached my ears.
I opened my eyes at the sound.
“….”
With my eyes open, I stared quietly at the ceiling.
“Ah—”
After uttering the sound, I touched my throat.
Speaking felt strange.
“Aah.”
I tried speaking a couple more times after that.
“Ha.”
Unable to contain myself, I laughed and spoke.
“I broke free. You damned thing.”
I had won.

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