The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 127

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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 127
Bang Seo-jin.
The eldest daughter of the Bang Clan, and like me, a child born of a concubine.
A household with three children, each from a different mother—an unconventional arrangement by any measure.
In a clan thrown into chaos by a father figure who, despite his years, never matured and chased after women like a madman, she was the one glimmer of hope I could discern.
Bang Seo-jin was thirteen years old.
The epithet by which she was known at that time was.
“The Foremost Prodigy of Yeolyeong.”
One might dismiss it as mere fancy for a girl of merely thirteen.
But those days were truly different.
At thirteen, she would thrash martial artists who had surpassed adulthood like they were nothing.
Whenever rogue sects emerged in the region, she would seize a wooden sword and dispatch them all single-handedly.
There were even those who, witnessing my sister wielding her blade, proclaimed that a dragon had been born within the Bang Clan.
Yes, even now I recall it—my sister was a genius.
She accomplished feats that could not be explained by any other means, and she did so repeatedly.
Her temperament, however, was troublesome—reckless and indiscriminate in her outbursts, which became somewhat tiresome.
Yet even accounting for that, she was more than worthy of being called a prodigy or genius.
Who was it? I believe it was the Lord of the Moyong Clan.
He had spoken words upon seeing my sister.
“Before long, the name of the Bang Clan’s eldest daughter will be known throughout the Central Plains to all.”
That is what he said.
It was a testament to her genius.
“From none other than the Lord of the Moyong Clan himself.”
If the master of one of the Five Great Clans had made such an assessment directly, then my sister was surely a genius.
Knowing this, my father placed all his hopes upon her, calling her the family’s sole hope, but…
“Damn it all. This wretched household.”
“I’m done! I won’t do this anymore!”
The sister once called our hope could not bear to watch the clan descend further into ruin, and she fled.
She left so swiftly that no one in the household even noticed her disappearance.
She vanished, leaving behind only a single letter.
And because of that, my father’s despair turned its arrow upon me.
“…That wretched woman.”
My fists clenched involuntarily.
If she was going to leave, she should have taken me with her. Instead, she fled alone?
Crunch—!
The letter crumpled in my tightened grip.
“I must calm myself…”
First, I needed to regain composure. I repeated the words in my mind.
There was much to consider upon reading my sister’s letter.
This was not the moment to dwell upon the past.
I unfolded the crumpled letter and stared at it, my thoughts churning.
‘First of all….’
The seal stamped on the letter.
That was the problem itself.
‘Why was the Gaebal Bangju’s seal stamped on this…?’
According to Yoo Cheon-gil, this wasn’t just the seal of Gaebal, but of the Gaebal Bangju himself.
A figure of such prominence wouldn’t simply stamp his seal on a casual letter like this….
‘What in the world is going on?’
Why did it arrive with my sister’s seal stamped on it?
And.
‘How did they know I was in Sichuan?’
The fact that this letter was entrusted to the Martial Arts Alliance meant someone sent it and it arrived.
But how did they know where I was to send it in the first place?
This was what puzzled me most.
My sister—we hadn’t exchanged a single word in nearly a decade.
Yet she borrowed the name of the Gaebal Bangju and sent a letter to my location.
‘Considering the span of time I’ve been in Sichuan.’
The duration was far too brief, so either she was nearby….
‘Or she had a way to learn of my whereabouts.’
What could it be?
‘What in the world has she been doing all this time?’
My half-sister—same father, different mother.
What exactly had she been up to?
‘Even if she ran away from home, I doubt she lived an ordinary life.’
Based on what I’d witnessed of her, I never believed she could live as an ordinary person.
Rather.
‘I found it strange that no rumors reached me at all.’
It was almost suspicious how quietly she seemed to be living.
‘…As expected.’
She wasn’t living some mundane, peaceful existence.
That’s what I realized.
‘…Tsk….’
I swallowed hard while reading the letter.
‘Father was right.’
I recalled his words about my sister sending a letter, how he’d told me to contact him immediately.
‘…He said he’d kill me if I made contact?’
My sister must have anticipated this, for she’d written a clear warning in the letter.
Even though I thought her warning meant little after so long apart.
‘…But with that person, there’s no telling what they might do.’
The lingering terror from memory kept tightening around my throat.
Having witnessed firsthand the nature of someone utterly devoid of sense, I could not help but believe they could never have grown up properly.
This conviction was crystallizing clearly in my mind.
And finally.
‘The Dragon-Phoenix Assembly?’
The final content among the sparse lines of text.
If anything warranted attention, it was this most prominently featured section.
Since the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly would open soon, we would see each other there.
This was the last part of the letter.
‘…How did they even know this.’
This was the part I understood least.
‘Isn’t this classified information?’
A martial tournament held by the Martial Arts Alliance every five years for the selection of successors.
One could make predictions since the cycle was approaching, certainly.
But it was strange how confidently the letter asserted it would open soon.
‘And the matter concerning Gaebal Bangju as well.’
I couldn’t shake the worry that I might be entangled in something peculiar. Such groundless concerns plagued me.
Rustle.
With that thought, I carefully folded the letter and tucked it into my robes.
Then I looked at the Branch Leader before me and spoke with a smile.
“I have reviewed the letter carefully. I am grateful for your consideration, Branch Leader.”
“Ah, no. It was merely my duty.”
The Branch Leader responded with a forced smile, but his gaze remained fixed on the letter I had placed in my robes.
It seemed the seal of Gaebal Bangju impressed upon the letter was weighing on his mind.
“Your words are more than enough. I cannot impose further upon the time of such busy individuals, so I must take my leave as well.”
“Ah. No….”
“Forgive my intrusion.”
I offered my farewell before the Branch Leader could say more, cutting him off preemptively.
Becoming further entangled here would only prove troublesome.
After speaking, I managed the situation. With this, the Branch Leader could no longer detain me, and he reluctantly let me depart with evident regret.
Thus I stepped outside.

* * *
[Dragon Phoenix Gathering, huh….]
Yoo Cheon-gil muttered the moment we stepped outside.
[Right, that existed too.]
His gaze was tinged with nostalgia, as though recalling distant memories.
I wondered if he harbored some particularly special memory of the place.
[There was a certain pleasure in beating down those geniuses who strutted about so arrogantly. Not a bad place at all. When you need to vent your frustrations, there’s nowhere quite like it.]
“….”
It was questionable how he could speak such violent sentiments with such wistful nostalgia, but I had already decided to stop trying to understand this old man’s thinking, so I simply chose to ignore it.
[But it opens around this time of year, doesn’t it?]
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Yoo Cheon-gil let out an ominous chuckle. He seemed to be plotting something strange again.
‘This should be fine, at least.’
The Dragon Phoenix Gathering shouldn’t pose any major problems.
The old man probably didn’t know.
‘The Cheongwol Sect cannot participate in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering.’
As a sect directly under the Martial Arts Alliance, the disciples of the Cheongwol Sect were prohibited from participating in festivals hosted by the Alliance.
Given that restriction, the Dragon Phoenix Gathering would be of little consequence anyway.
I judged it thus and decided to think of it lightly.
But at that moment, I had momentarily forgotten something.
That I was a man cursed with the most wretched luck imaginable.

* * *
I made my way back to the Dang Clan slowly. I would have preferred to linger and explore the prefecture more, but the piercing gazes following me left me no choice.
‘They said I could move about freely, yet here we are.’
Despite their assurances that I could wander without concern, the sharp attention tracking my every step made that impossible.
An escort and guide? Nonsense.
This was blatant surveillance.
And worse still.
‘Do-hyeong and Cheon Euijin said they weren’t subjected to this level of scrutiny.’
I alone received special treatment, shadowed relentlessly wherever I ventured.
Though suffocating, I couldn’t deny the logic behind it.
The circumstances aligned perfectly.
‘Not content with casually opening someone else’s secret chamber,’
an attack had erupted within that very chamber.
Meanwhile, Dokuou found himself ensnared by the enemy’s machinations.
‘I slew the enemy commander orchestrating the assault.’
To any observer, I would appear heroic.
‘Yet from a political and rational standpoint, I’m the most suspicious figure.’
Given such circumstances, I couldn’t fault Dokuou’s precautions.
‘But logic and irritation are separate matters.’
I couldn’t help but feel unsettled.
“Tsk.”
I clicked my tongue. The moment I entered the Dang Clan, those following me vanished.
Was surveillance limited to outside the clan? Or perhaps.
‘There could be eyes watching me without my knowledge.’
They might be concealed, observing in silence.
This place was indeed a tiger’s den.
‘The fortunate part,’
was that unlike if I were alone, I had someone useful accompanying me in this regard.
[The Dang Clan Martial Artists appear absent from the vicinity.]
Reassured by Yoo Cheon-gil’s words, I proceeded forward.
I had arrived at the Training Hall.
Do-hyeong and Cheon Euijin had suggested we train together today, so I deliberately adjusted my schedule to match theirs.
‘Just a few more days.’
According to the Iron Master, only a handful of days remained until Manwol’s completion.
He’d said no more than five days at most.
Once that passed, I could finally depart.
‘I’ll take things easy for now.’
I resolved to simply maintain my composure and stick to my plans until then.
There was little else to accomplish in Sichuan anyway.
My true work lay in consolidating what had already transpired and making it my own.
‘For now….’
Until Dokuou called for me, there was nothing to do, so this was the time to dedicate myself to training.
The newly learned Cheongwol Sword Technique.
‘I should test the Divine Blade.’
A premium weapon that Dang Yeeran had painstakingly repaired with all her effort.
The Celestial Demon’s cherished sword, and now it would become my cherished weapon.
It was time to wield it.
With a metallic ring, I placed my hand on the hilt of the Divine Blade at my waist.
I had felt it before, but the grip was exquisitely comfortable.
As I gently grasped it, something came to mind, and I asked Yoo Cheon-gil.
“But, is it really alright for me to use this?”
There was still a sense of incongruity.
“Even though I’m from an orthodox sect, using a sword that was wielded by the Celestial Demon, the leader of the demonic path….”
My barely remaining conscience ached subtly, so to speak.
Especially since Yoo Cheon-gil, who had slain the Celestial Demon, was the one ordering me to use this blade—I couldn’t understand it.
“If it were Manwol, at least there would be justification.”
If he told me to use that crude sword, that would be problematic in its own way. At least there would be justification.
A disciple wielding the master’s sword.
Who would dare to criticize that? There would be plenty to say in defense of it.
But the Divine Blade is different. Even if the chances of discovery are slim, I don’t understand why he entrusted this to me.
So I was about to press him specifically on this point and continue questioning.
“Why did you….”
I stopped mid-sentence and closed my mouth.
Yoo Cheon-gil’s expression was strange.
He didn’t answer my question at all and was staring at something.
I instinctively heightened my vigilance at that expression.
The moment my tension rose to its peak, my hair stood on end.
[Half a step back. Cross the blade diagonally, blade spine to the northwest left.]
I heard Yoo Cheon-gil’s voice.
The moment his words reached me, I took my stance.
That instant.
Screech-! Clang-!!!
An unknown assailant’s attack came flying toward my blade.

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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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