The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 132

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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 132
Peak.
It was a realm that most martial artists in the Central Plains called their life’s goal and desperately yearned to reach.
The vital energy dwelling within one’s dantian was indispensable to any martial artist.
When vital energy wrapped around the body, one could lift what was once impossible to lift. And if that energy was channeled into a weapon…
One could pierce what was impenetrable.
One could sever what was unseverable.
Vital energy was the most important thing to a martial artist.
And precisely because of this, martial artists yearned so desperately for the realm of Peak.
The moment one ascended to that place.
A martial artist’s dantian and body advanced to the next stage, transcending mere external application of vital energy to become one with it.
One planted the seed of vital energy within the body, repeating arduous cultivation and enlightenment.
Thus it ripened, and finally bloomed.
From third-rate to second-rate, from second-rate to first-rate.
The stage where the planted seed finally blossomed after such ascension was precisely Peak.
The stage where vital energy contained within the body ultimately became one.
The place every martial artist in the Central Plains dreamed of.
Yet for some, it was a place unreachable even after a lifetime of effort.
‘…The limit of the dull-witted and the proof of genius.’
The place where martial artists without talent ultimately withered away without reaching.
It was common knowledge that seven out of ten martial artists collapsed without ever touching Peak.
‘I’ve reached Peak…?’
Feeling the vitality coursing through my body, I was utterly dumbfounded.
Someone once said it.
That Peak was proof of genius.
One could only reach it by possessing talent, and without talent, one could never ascend to Peak.
And yet…
‘…It’s only been how long since I became first-rate.’
Not even ten days had passed since I consumed the Daehwandan and became first-rate.
Before I even realized it, I had already ascended to Peak.
How was I supposed to explain this? With no words coming to mind, I simply remained silent.
[…Doing pointless things, really.]
Yoo Cheon-gil kept muttering disapprovingly.
[The timing isn’t right yet. Tsk.]
He wore a twisted expression, clearly displeased that I had reached Peak.
Peak.
Every time I recalled that word, a strange heat rose within me.
‘Peak, truly…’
When I reached first-rate, I felt an astonishingly intense emotion.
But now that I had actually ascended to Peak, the feeling was strangely subtle.
To be honest, it doesn’t feel real.
What’s strange is that I instinctively recognized I had reached the Peak without anyone telling me.
So this is the Peak.
I broke through the wall and reached the Peak.
I could understand it without anyone explaining it to me.
“….”
I clenched and unclenched my fists repeatedly.
As for my impressions of reaching the Peak, there are strange sensations, but.
‘Most of all.’
The sensation of floating weightlessly was peculiar.
My body felt impossibly light. When I lifted my feet, it felt like I would soar into the air.
Was it an illusion? The moment I became aware of that sensation, I wanted to draw my blade immediately.
I wanted to fully experience this transformed realm. Such thoughts invaded my mind.
So without thinking, the moment I reached for the hilt.
[Come to your senses.]
“…!”
Yoo Cheon-gil’s words brought me back to reality.
[Tsk tsk. It’s good that you’re excited, but if you’re already wavering, what use is it? It’s merely the Peak.]
“….”
Merely the Peak.
The rising heat within me cooled at those words.
For others, it’s wrapped in words like proof of genius or the limits of mediocrity.
A place so bitter that it’s called the dream of a lifetime.
Yet standing there, that word—merely—felt heavy, almost laughable, and strangely hopeful.
“…Couldn’t you at least offer some congratulations?”
[Congratulations? Nonsense. Why would you expect praise for a realm reached through another’s hand?]
Those words stabbed at my chest repeatedly.
Certainly. Whether at First Class or the Peak, I’ve only ascended through fortuitous encounters, so those words struck me with particular force.
Of course.
‘Still, the feeling isn’t bad.’
A place I thought I would never reach in my entire life.
Who would have imagined it? Not even I had thought it possible, and no one who knew me would have either.
Reaching First Class alone seemed unbelievable, and yet to surpass that and touch the Peak.
Moreover.
‘It hasn’t even been a year.’
Less than a year since I met Yoo Cheon-gil.
Within that time, I reached the Peak.
It was truly absurd.
What would be a lifetime for others was merely less than a year for me.
‘And the one who created that.’
Before me stands the current Supreme of the Martial Realm and former Heavenly Supreme, his expression twisted in evident irritation.
‘…I’d rather die than admit it.’
At this point, I have no choice.
‘He was serious.’
Nothing grandiose about it.
Just words he’d tossed out casually, as if mentioning a casual stroll through the neighborhood.
That I must become the Heavenly Supreme.
Yoo Cheon-gil’s words suddenly echoed in my ears.
Feeling that, I spoke to Yoo Cheon-gil.
“…Old Man.”
[What.]
“Are you alright?”
At my words, Yoo Cheon-gil narrows his eyes and regards me.
[What do you mean.]
“That… about the Dang Clan elder departing.”
Still, a close friend had left.
I never expected Dokjon to depart so easily.
No matter how much he said his lingering attachments had ended, I thought he might still cling to something and endure a bit longer.
I’d harbored such worries, yet he simply vanished without a trace.
He disappeared without even a proper farewell, so I asked if that was truly acceptable.
[Ha.]
Yoo Cheon-gil burst into laughter looking at me.
[What wouldn’t be alright about it. The one who needed to go has gone, that’s all.]
“…Hmm….”
[Why? Do you think I should be melancholic because he left? Either way, whether it’s me or him, we’re both dead. There’s no room between us for such pointless sentimentality.]
His expression is truly unmoved.
Does such a man even possess the capacity for wavering emotions?
I found myself curious about that. Whether Yoo Cheon-gil knew my thoughts or not, he spoke.
[He’s already shown his worth. Now let’s go.]
“…Where to?”
[Don’t we need to prepare what we’re giving to the Dang Clan?]
“Ah.”
At those words, I recalled what concerned the Myriad Heavens Rainfall.
Right. I need to do that.
“Haha….”
Laughter escapes unbidden at the absurdity of it all.
Dokjon, called the hero of the Dang Clan and the ghost known as the Heavenly Supremes, has found enlightenment.
And because of that, my cultivation has reached its pinnacle.
Yet there’s no time to cherish or even contemplate it.
Overlapping with his attitude that reaching the pinnacle is nothing remarkable, I can only laugh at the absurdity.
In this situation, what I needed to do was return to my residence and spend the night writing something in a book.

* * *
The next day, I visited Dokuou again.
It was to conclude what I had said yesterday.
In a way, it could be called the final stages of what needed to be done at the Dang Clan.
‘…Ugh, I’m exhausted.’
I dragged my weary body, having not slept all night, and faced Dokuou.
“Greetings.”
“Welcome….”
The moment Dokuou saw me, he began to greet me but stopped mid-sentence, his brows furrowing.
The place where we met was a spacious training hall.
I wondered why he had such a reaction, but I quickly understood the reason.
‘He noticed.’
Dokuou seemed to have recognized that I had reached a new peak.
It was the same when I had advanced to the first rank before. It seemed he had noticed this time as well.
“Why do you ask?”
When I feigned ignorance and asked, Dokuou quickly composed his expression.
“It is nothing of importance.”
It would be difficult to believe that my realm had advanced in just one day. I simply needed to maintain my facade.
As if to prove that, Dokuou said nothing more. Confirming his reaction, I prepared a book from my possession and handed it to him.
It was what I had promised.
“….”
Upon seeing the book, Dokuou carefully accepted it.
His expression showed a reaction that was rare for him.
Rustle.
The moment he received it, Dokuou examined the book.
“…The ink doesn’t appear to be fully dry.”
“Ah, yes. I must have written it hastily, so it probably hasn’t dried completely.”
“…What?”
Dokuou’s expression became puzzled upon hearing my words.
“You mean this wasn’t a secret manual that was already prepared?”
At those words, I gestured dismissively and spoke.
“No, no. What are you saying? My master instructed me to read all his secrets about himself and burn them all.”
“Surely you said you had kept something about the Ten Thousand Heavens Rainfall.”
When Dokuou and I discussed this matter.
It was about the part where I said I could provide assistance.
At that time, I had seen a secret manual about the Ten Thousand Heavens Rainfall.
I had said I would help by passing it on.
Now that I said I had written it all night, I could see Dokuou’s expression crumble.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“If the original secret manual was burned, then this book that Bang Disciple gave me might not be accurate either.”
So much time has passed—how could I remember it accurately? Isn’t it highly likely the contents are wrong?
That’s what he was saying. And logically, it made sense.
“No. It will be accurate.”
I know this secret manual is not wrong.
And for good reason.
‘I transcribed it directly while listening yesterday—how could it be wrong?’
I had written down everything Yoo Cheon-gil rambled about from behind me.
The content wasn’t particularly long, and there was no way it could be wrong.
If anything was wrong, it would be Yoo Cheon-gil’s fault.
“Everything my master left written down, I have memorized completely. Not a single particle could be wrong.”
“…You memorized it all? All those books?”
“There weren’t that many, to be honest. It wasn’t a difficult task.”
“….”
He still looked unconvinced. Seeing that, I wrinkled my nose and spoke.
“If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can say. However, this book truly contains exactly what I received from my master. If you still don’t trust me, why not try it yourself?”
Look at the book and try it.
With those words, Dokuou examined the secret manual again as if he’d been waiting for this.
It was filled with techniques for using Myriad Heaven Flower Rain, including the sequence of energy applications.
As he looked at it, energy began pouring out from Dokuou.
후우우욱—!!!
I felt a wind made of energy emanating from Dokuou.
His martial robes fluttered and moved. Dokuou slowly raised his hand.
In that moment.
촤아아악—!!
Dozens of projectiles burst forth from Dokuou’s hand, flying through the air.
파바바바박—-!!!!
The projectiles filling the sky soon swept across the ground.
Projectiles embedded thickly in the floor.
Dokuou’s expression changed slightly upon confirming this, and so did mine.
‘Is that Myriad Heaven Flower Rain?’
The technique that was the Dang Clan’s secret art and symbol.
I’d heard that projectiles filling the sky pour down like rain, sweeping across the battlefield.
‘…It seems right, but….’
The form looked correct, but something felt off.
Then.
[…This is bad.]
Yoo Cheon-gil spoke to me in a voice of alarm.
[That bastard. He’s not using it properly.]
Dokuou’s reaction suggested that something was amiss.
I had found it strange, and indeed, something seemed off.
“…What do you think of it?”
So I asked, curious about Dokuou’s response.
“…This is….”
“…Hmm?”
Dokuou’s face was filled with emotion at the Ten Thousand Heavens Flower Rain he had unleashed.
What was this? Why was he satisfied…?
No matter how I looked at it, it felt like I had merely scattered dark qi in abundance.
Yet for some reason, he seemed satisfied.
Ah, could it be.
‘Is it because he has never seen it before?’
Because he had never witnessed the Ten Thousand Heavens Flower Rain that Dokjon had used.
Or perhaps.
‘Even if it is not perfect, does he feel it was successful enough?’
Even though it was not flawless, I had felt the genuine nature of the secret technique, so I wondered if that was why he showed such a reaction.
“Hmm….”
I nodded my head.
Then, without realizing it, my body moved toward the dark qi.
Somehow, I was already doing so.
Countless dark qi were visible throughout the training hall, as if proving it belonged to the Dang Clan.
I grasped three or four of them.
This was my first time touching such dark qi.
Yet.
‘It feels familiar?’
As I handled them, they felt strangely familiar. Why was this happening?
The moment I was overwhelmed by a bewildering sensation at how unnaturally familiar they felt.
Whoooosh—!
A sensation came from my dantian.
[Huh? What are you doing?]
Yoo Cheon-gil spoke to me, observing my actions.
At that moment, my body moved without waiting for my response.
The method of using the Ten Thousand Heavens Flower Rain, which I had written down and memorized throughout the night, surfaced in my mind.
Why was I suddenly doing this?
I questioned myself, but at the same time.
The qi that began in my dantian burrowed through my meridians.
My fingertips, infused with qi, released the dark qi I was holding.
“Bang Disciple. This secret technique is—”
Just as Dokuou began to speak to me with a slightly brightened voice.
콰가가가가강—!!!!
“…!”
The dark energy that passed through him fell into the Training Hall.
As the dark energy that had risen into the sky descended, it unleashed explosions and deafening roars.
It was entirely different from the sound Dokuou had demonstrated.
Moreover, unlike the hundreds of dark energy projectiles that had simply been embedded in the ground,
the handful of dark energy projectiles I had thrown destroyed not only the floor but the walls as well, riddling the Training Hall with holes in an instant.
Crumble, crumble, crumble….
Debris from the damaged walls cascaded down.
“…What the hell?”
Unable to help myself, I cursed at the sight before me.
Witnessing this, Dokuou, Yoo Cheon-gil, and I all wore expressions of utter stupefaction.
Dokuou then turned his head with a creaking sound to look at me.
Faced with that gaze, there was only one thing I could say.
“…No, I was just trying to mimic you a bit… Why did this happen? This shouldn’t have worked. I mean, that… uh… I’m terribly sorry.”
“….”
To my stammering apology, Dokuou said nothing in response.
I found that silence far more terrifying.

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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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