The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 19

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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 019
Namgung Seong tumbled across the ground and collapsed.
Blood streamed from his mouth, staining the arena floor crimson.
The atmosphere around the Dueling Arena mirrored this silence—everyone held their breath in stunned quiet.
A moment passed.
“What…?”
“What just happened?”
“That one who fell… isn’t that Socheongeom?”
“Socheongeom… truly defeated? By Bang Disciple?”
All eyes darted between the fallen Namgung Seong and Bangseong-yeon.
Bangseong-yeon stood while Namgung Seong lay bleeding—the facts were undeniable. Socheongeom had lost, and Bangseong-yeon had won. The evidence was plain to see.
Yet.
“No… how is this possible?”
No one could comprehend this victory.
“What happened in that final exchange?”
“Socheongeom clearly unleashed his sword aura and… attacked…”
Before their final clash, Socheongeom had released his sword aura—an impossibility at his age. It had certainly proven his name worthy.
Yet somehow.
“Why did Socheongeom suddenly collapse? Bang Disciple’s blade seemed slower, didn’t it?”
Inexplicably, it was Namgung Seong who fell. Bangseong-yeon, by contrast, breathed heavily as if exhausted, but remained standing.
How could this be?
As the crowd stood bewildered, unable to fathom the reason.
Only one person.
“…That was…”
Among the spectators, a strikingly handsome man—Cheon Euijin—alone understood.
‘The Cheonwol Sword Dance…’
The blade Bangseong-yeon wielded was unmistakably that.
A secret technique passed down through the Cheonwol Gate—one of their exclusive martial arts. Moreover, it was a supreme technique that could only be executed after opening the Moon’s Eye.
‘…Something is different.’
What Cheon Euijin knew as the Cheonwol Sword Dance was subtly different from this.
He knew the blade his father and sister wielded. Beautiful and refined, its sword path was remarkably elegant, and merely witnessing it inspired awe at its profound difficulty.
But what Bangseong-yeon displayed was different.
‘How could it be expressed so lightly and simply?’
His grip was crude, and the force infused into the blade was far too slow.
There was no refinement whatsoever—merely the motion of a swing.
‘And yet… that was undoubtedly a moon.’
A moon rose from the tip of Bangseong-yeon’s blade.
Not the beautiful blade his father and sister wielded, but a rough and crude one—yet vast and boundless, a Cheonwol of immense scale.
It resembled a technique he had witnessed long ago in his childhood from that person.
“After all… Bang Disciple truly has…”
So this is his will manifesting itself. Cheon Euijin held that conviction once more.
When the duel first began, I was momentarily confused.
Namgung Seong’s sword technique was devastatingly sharp, and Bangseong-yeon appeared to be struggling merely to defend against it.
But that was my mistake.
“Surely not… Socheongeom, Namgung Seong has fallen?”
“Then that means Bang Disciple truly is the successor to the Sword Sage….”
“Does this mean he was hiding his true strength all these years?”
“This cannot be….”
Those who had harbored suspicions now finally grasped the reality unfolding before them.
Yoo Cheon-gil, the legendary Heavenly Supreme Sword Sage once revered as a hero. The young man standing there was his successor.
Look at him—he proved it decisively.
He crushed the genius who would shoulder the Central Plains’ future, right here before all these witnesses.
That alone transformed how people perceived Bangseong-yeon.
“B-Bang Disciple!”
“Waaahhh…!!”
The pent-up atmosphere shattered, and belated cheers erupted.
“We believed in you!”
“Magnificent!”
They certainly hadn’t believed. They’d been quick to regard him with suspicion.
There was nothing magnificent about it. I spent all day blocking attacks, then landed a single decisive blow at the end.
How curious these reactions are. Cheon Euijin quietly sighed at what was, in a sense, their honest response.
This is the Central Plains. Where only victors are remembered and revered.
I felt that truth anew. It was a terrifying place, no matter how many times I witnessed it.
‘I grow weary merely watching, yet how can the Disciple possess such overwhelming strength?’
While I felt exhaustion weighing upon me, Bangseong-yeon remained unchanged even amid this fervor.
He steadies his breathing alone within the deafening cheers, as if the surrounding noise doesn’t reach his ears.
Did the reactions of others mean nothing to him?
He focused solely on what lay before him—the fallen Namgung Seong.
“Ugh… Haa… Cough.”
The fallen Namgung Seong stirred. He hadn’t lost consciousness.
Cough—! Blood spilled from his mouth.
“…You… bastard….”
Namgung Seong, his eyes bloodshot, glared at Bangseong-yeon. His once-sculpted face was now ruined, his carefully groomed hair disheveled.
A single blow. That was all it took to transform him.
Blood from his own mouth stained his lips.
“I am… I am….”
Namgung Seong spoke, his breathing ragged and labored.
“Socheongeom… Socheongeom Namgung Seong….”
Using his sword as a cane, he rose—a pitiful sight. Yet one might call it strength of will.
Still, the manner in which he achieved it seemed far from dignified.
“I… I won’t… accept this. I cannot… accept defeat…”
As if refusing to acknowledge defeat, Namgung Seong leveled his blade at Bangseong-yeon.
“I… I am… the Socheongeom of the Namgung Clan. There’s no way I could lose to such sorcery…”
Namgung Seong’s words faltered as he staggered. He barely managed to steady himself.
He looked as though he might collapse at any moment.
“Kgh…”
Though his defeat was plainly evident, Namgung Seong refused to acknowledge it.
Was he truly determined to prolong this match by any means?
No matter how I looked at it, he could continue no further.
And then.
Bangseong-yeon, perhaps recognizing this as well, walked slowly toward Namgung Seong.
He held no blade in his hands. Surely he meant to help support him?
The crowd let out shallow murmurs of admiration at the sight.
The successor of the Sword Saint possessed virtue as well. The gazes directed at Bangseong-yeon were shifting to something more favorable when—
Bangseong-yeon drew close to Namgung Seong, and in that instant.
Crack—
“Huh?”
“What?”
“…Hieeeek…?!”
Bangseong-yeon’s knee drove directly into Namgung Seong’s groin.
The men in the crowd flinched, instinctively drawing their legs inward.
It connected perfectly. There was even the sound of something shattering.
“…Ugh… ahhhhh…”
Namgung Seong collapsed, his eyes rolling back from the agony.
Plastered against the ground, he was even foaming at the mouth.
“Ptui!”
Bangseong-yeon spat onto the floor and spoke.
“Shut your mouth already. What does it matter if you won’t accept it?”
His voice dripped with irritation.
“Stop running your mouth and just stay like that. It suits you perfectly.”
With those contemptuous words, Bangseong-yeon turned his back and descended from the Dueling Arena.
His heavy footsteps carried the weight of his emotions, and none of those who witnessed what had just transpired dared to stop him.
Thus the duel came to an end.

* * *
Socheongeom had been defeated by a successor of the Sword Saint.
It was a story that spread through the Sect immediately after the duel. It happened in the blink of an eye.
-No way, so the Bang Disciple….
-Socheongeom used Sword Force, but… he….
-With just a single strike, the duel….
Rumor upon rumor, the story continued to swell in size.
The amusing part was that most of those who had witnessed the duel firsthand saw it with their own eyes, yet they spoke of it differently.
Barely two hours.
Only that much time had passed, yet somehow the rumor had already diverged from the truth.
“It’s absolutely ridiculous….”
Rumors are always like this, but they’re truly pointless. Even if dozens witnessed it with their own eyes, the moment the story passes through one or two people, the essence becomes muddled.
[Still, it’s not bad, is it? Either way, there’s nothing disadvantageous for you.]
I smacked my lips at the Old Man’s words.
“There’s nothing good about it. Even if I held gold in both hands, without the strength to protect it, what’s the point?”
Especially now that everyone knows my hands are full of gold.
In their eyes, I must look like I have ten thousand armies at my back.
‘In reality, I’m just holding a single sword.’
This was exactly when the phrase “all show and no substance” applied.
“…Ugh….”
A groan escaped as I moved my body.
“Wow…. Insane.”
I let out an involuntary exclamation. The pain was so intense that groans came naturally.
My muscles screamed. From head to toe, there wasn’t a single part that didn’t hurt.
I never knew human muscles could hurt this much. It was strangely refreshing in its novelty.
At the dizzying sensation, I glared at the Old Man beside me.
“…What… did you do to my body… ugh….”
As I spoke with resentment, laughter echoed from somewhere.
[I was so careful with that pathetic body of yours, and this is the thanks I get?]
“…This is… being careful…?”
[Did you really think it would be easy for your worthless flesh to defeat the Namgung Clan’s child?]
“…Huh….”
I didn’t argue back. I was amazed myself.
With this body of mine, barely worthy of second-rate status, I had defeated Socheongeom. That fact still felt unbelievable.
Did my body possess some kind of talent? I didn’t entertain such nonsensical imagination.
I lifted my head and stared at the damned Demon in front of me.
This Old Man really was an extraordinary being. I felt it keenly in this fight.
[What is it? Your eyes seem to like me a little. It looks like you might respect me?]
“Respect… my ass… I was just staring because I was dumbfounded.”
[Tsk tsk tsk. Sure, let’s say that.]
My luck had been absolutely terrible.
“Sigh….”
I steadied myself, swaying slightly, finding the least painful position.
As I groaned and fidgeted uselessly, the Old Man regarded me with an odd expression.
[So, why did you do that?]
“…What are you referring to?”
[That last thing.]
“….”
[You must have had a reason for doing it.]
At Yoo Cheon-gil’s question about what happened last, I recalled that moment.
Why had I done it? I didn’t fully understand it myself.
I could have simply ignored it and walked away, but I couldn’t restrain myself. At least it wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been the groin.
I had deliberately struck him right there.
Because of that, this matter would likely grow beyond just the outcome of the duel.
I was somewhat worried about that. But it couldn’t be helped.
“…Old Man. To be honest.”
[Yes.]
“Isn’t it acceptable to do at least that much when someone’s being so infuriating?”
The Old Man said nothing in response to my words.
He merely looked at me with an expression of slight surprise.
“What’s with that look?”
[Well, I thought you wouldn’t care about such things, but hearing you say something strange like that is taking some adjustment.]
“Yes, I don’t care. I was simply annoyed, that’s all.”
[That’s what people in the world call caring.]
“Ah, enough.”
I waved my hand, unwilling to hear more.
“I wasn’t helping anyone, there was nothing I could do, I simply vented my frustration.”
If I tried to assign meaning to it, there would be no end. It was easier to dismiss it as an act born of irritation.
[Heh heh.]
At my half-defiant attitude, Yoo Cheon-gil let out a laugh.
[Do you have confidence you can handle the aftermath?]
At his meaningful words, I laughed this time.
“The aftermath….”
Aftermath? The very word was terrifying to imagine. The aftermath he spoke of was none other than this.
If it had just been the duel, it would be one thing. But I had struck Namgung Seong in the groin—that was the problem.
If I wasn’t careful, the Namgung Clan might seize upon this incident.
If that happened, my own safety would become somewhat precarious.
“Why should I handle that?”
I spoke bluntly while rubbing my sore shoulders.
Handle it? There was no need for that.
And the Old Man likely already knows that too.
“A person of your understanding shouldn’t keep prying like this.”
This was merely pointless questioning.
[Tsk tsk….]
The Old Man laughed.
From that alone, I could tell he already knew everything and was asking anyway.
[Clever one, aren’t you.]
Who was he talking to? This was absurd.
The moment I scowled and tried to look out the window.
[Now then.]
I turned my head back to face the Old Man.
I swallowed dryly as I stared at him.
‘What is this?’
Something felt different this time. Goosebumps rose on my skin without warning.
My already aching body went rigid.
[Let me ask something else now.]
He was massive.
Yoo Cheon-gil seemed impossibly large as he posed his question.
He’d always been tall, but this was incomparable to before.
Taishan.
It was as though a colossal mountain now blocked my vision.
‘…I can’t breathe.’
I clutched at my chest slightly. Each breath felt labored and heavy. How could the pressure of a soul be this overwhelming?
“Suddenly… why… are you doing this?”
I barely managed to speak the words.
While I looked at the Old Man in confusion, Yoo Cheon-gil wore an expressionless face I’d never seen before as he questioned me.
[How did you manifest the moon.]
“I… beg your pardon?”
Manifest the moon? What was he suddenly talking about? Unable to comprehend his words, I stared at the Old Man.
[That sword you wielded at the end. That was certainly the Cheonwol Swordform. And it was the very technique I use.]
“Ah.”
Only then did I understand what the Old Man was asking.
[This is impossible. What have you done.]
Gone was his usual chuckling laugh, gone was that irritating expression meant to provoke.
Purely expressionless. My hands trembled involuntarily at his bare, unadorned face.
‘This… old man. He really does look terrifying without expression.’
I’d known it, but with his expression erased, it was far more pronounced. An immense pressure radiated from him.
Yet allowing myself to cower in fear would wound my pride.
“…I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t really do anything special.”
I forced out the words, pretending to be strong.
“I simply imitated what you did.”
[What?]
The Old Man seemed confused and asked me to clarify.
[You imitated?]
“Yes.”
[Explain in detail.]
“…What more is there to explain in detail?”
How could I possibly elaborate further? That truly was all there was to it.
As I’ve mentioned before, memorization had always been my strength, and this time was no different.
“The movements you made when you swung your blade. The breathing you exhaled at that moment. The vital energy flowing through my body. I simply replicated all of it.”
I had memorized the circumstances surrounding me at that time and wove them together.
“And it worked.”
[….]
The Old Man fell silent.

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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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