The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 199

—————
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 199
“Thank you for your hard work.”
I left those words behind casually and stepped outside. It was well past mid-morning.
Despite the clear weather, I felt the stale air as I emerged from the building.
‘Ugh, the dust.’
The space had accumulated so much dust and grime that my mouth felt parched and grimy.
Though Hannam was known for meticulous maintenance, it was remarkable how filthy this place had become.
‘But I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it being open to the public.’
I scratched my cheek.
The itching made me worry that I might have caught something.
It was unavoidable, really.
The place where I stood was literally a beggar’s den.
“Please, just a coin….”
“I came here on business with the public house.”
“Tsk.”
At my words, the beggar who had approached me clicked his tongue and turned away. His attitude was absurd, but I didn’t bother to pay it any mind.
After all, beggars were all the same.
‘I’ve sent what needed to be sent.’
Since the purpose was all that mattered, there was no need to linger.
As I stepped slightly outside the beggar quarter, a woman wearing a veil awaited me.
It was Yeon Yeon.
“Did you wait long?”
When I asked, she shook her head.
Then she stared directly at me. Though the veil obscured her gaze, I could tell she was looking at me.
It seemed like a look asking why I had come here.
“Ah, I had some business to handle with the public house.”
I had things to take care of during a gap in my schedule.
Though I wasn’t sure if it would work out.
“…Anyway. That’s settled. Do you have any more appointments?”
“….”
Yeon Yeon nodded.
“You don’t need to do any training or anything?”
“….”
It was the same this time.
I had brought her along, but I felt a bit concerned that I hadn’t asked about her schedule.
“Is that so? Then what….”
Does she not mind?
I nodded as well and began walking. Yeon Yeon followed slowly, matching my pace.
Now that I had visited the public house, there was only one place left to go.

* * *
I cut through the crowd. Every step I took along the street drew gazes.
“It’s the Protagonist.”
“…From the Cheongwol Sect….”
“…The one who defeated Woon-ryong…?”
“And beside him….”
The aftermath of the last martial competition had been quite significant, as noticeably more people recognized me now.
I wondered if I should have worn a face veil instead of Yeon.
‘This is uncomfortable.’
I didn’t particularly enjoy being the center of attention, so these stares weren’t welcome.
From the start.
‘I’m not even sure if I won through genuine skill.’
Information-based strategy.
The martial competition was fought using information that Wol Seon-geom had provided. While that could be considered a form of skill, if someone asked me confidently whether it truly was, I’d hesitate.
‘Honestly, if you asked me whether I’m at the level of a Seventh-Tier martial artist right now, I wouldn’t know.’
I had won against Dok-ryong and Woon-ryong, but it felt somewhat ambiguous.
Looking at it objectively, that was the case.
‘Hmm.’
So I glanced at Yeon in this regard.
‘The First Disciple….’
Due to our past connection, I had subtly dropped the honorifics and unconsciously pulled her along.
But thinking about it, Yeon was truly an extraordinary figure.
‘That’s what Yoo Cheon-gil said.’
He wondered what she had been raised to become.
I remembered the old man pouring out admiration and joy the moment he saw Geombong.
‘That’s how remarkable she is.’
His reaction was clearly different from when he saw other Seventh-Tier martial artists.
And I saw it too.
‘…I couldn’t see it.’
Geombong’s movements during the martial competition.
I couldn’t properly see them. By the time I realized it, the opponent was already collapsed.
‘Could I have reacted if I had seen it?’
How could I react to something I couldn’t even see? I suspected it would be impossible.
‘Then again, who knows.’
If I used my eyes properly, I might have managed something, but this was merely speculation.
‘…What exactly happened?’
What had occurred over the past few years?
I had heard stories about Geombong too. That’s how famous she was.
‘A genius slayer.’
A figure who trampled all the celebrated geniuses of the Central Plains.
Her overwhelming talent had driven all the disciples who boasted of their skill into despair.
Those who had crossed swords with Geombong even once all called her a monster, or so I’d heard.
‘I don’t quite understand it, though.’
I wondered what she’d done to earn such a reputation.
And more than that.
‘How has she lived all this time?’
Since leaving the Bangga clan, during a span of time that wasn’t short but hardly long either, what had Yoo Yeon experienced?
Somehow she’d gone to Huashan and become a disciple.
And somehow, again…
‘She’d lost the ability to speak.’
Her sudden appearance living as a man was startling, but what troubled me more was that.
I remembered she could speak before, yet when we met again, she couldn’t. It bothered me a little.
‘But I can’t exactly ask her about it.’
I was curious, certainly, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to ask.
Lost in such thoughts, I soon arrived at my destination.
“Wow, quite a crowd here.”
The destination was the main arena.
There was no particular need to come today, but my reason for seeking it out was simple.
“Let me see… the match bracket…”
I lifted my gaze to check what was written on the board.
Today’s bracket, densely filled with names.
Right, I’d come to watch the martial bouts.
My schedule had opened up, and…
‘Still, I should pay some attention.’
These were people I’d half-dragged here, so it felt wrong not to watch their matches.
But watching alone seemed tedious, so I’d brought Yoo Yeon along from where she stood ahead.
“Where…”
As I carefully examined the bracket, several familiar names appeared.
‘Cheon Euijin is facing someone I barely know.’
Cheon Euijin’s opponent was a disciple whose name I’d hardly heard.
Dok-ryong was in the same situation. The fortunate thing was that our group hadn’t been matched against each other.
Keeping this in mind, I continued examining the others.
“Huh?”
I widened my eyes as I checked the matchups.
Do-hyeong from the Cheongwol Sect and
Namgung Seong from the Namgung clan.
Do-hyeong had been matched against Socheongeom.
Seeing that, I narrowed my eyes.
‘…Hmm.’
It wasn’t strange for a martial bout, yet something about it felt oddly irritating.
Still, this much is manageable.
The real problem lies elsewhere.
‘Cheonhye-in’s opponent.’
Wol Muhui. Her matchup caught my eye.
Her opponent is none other than.
‘Baek Cheon-il.’
Baek Cheon-il, whom Yoo Cheon-gil had identified as a figure from the Demonic Sect.
He was Cheonhye-in’s opponent.

* * *
-My grandson.
The Old Man’s voice seeped into my ears—a voice I had tried to forget but could never quite escape.
-I beg you, do not bury yourself in vengeance.
To his earnest plea, the Young Boy could offer no response.
He should have at least nodded his head, yet even that he could not do.
Because he did not wish to.
Even when the man who had raised him—his father and grandfather—lay dying before his very eyes.
The boy could not grant his grandfather’s final wish.
How could he?
The blade embedded in my chest still churned within me.
How could I dare promise such a thing?
The boy became a young man.
And as his hands grew more skilled with the sword he had grasped in childhood.
So too did the blade lodged in his chest grow larger.
-Hwaaaaah!
-Kkeaak!
A shout and a scream pierced the air, followed by cheers erupting from the crowd.
Another match had concluded.
Hearing this, a certain young man.
A martial artist of the Sowoldae, belonging to the Cheongwol Sect.
Do-hyeong opened the eyes he had been keeping closed.
“….”
Perhaps it was the unwanted memory surfacing? A tightness settled in my chest.
I exhaled slowly.
At the same time, my hand brushed across my chest. In a place where nothing should be felt, a strange sensation lingered.
How much time had passed?
How many years since an invisible blade was driven into my chest?
Despite the long years that had elapsed, when my hand swept across my chest, it felt as though a hilt was there.
As if waiting for the day I would finally draw it out.
‘But not yet.’
Not now.
I am too weak to draw this blade at this moment.
I was still far too weak to reach those I must cut down with this sword.
“….”
Do-hyeong surveyed his surroundings with a gaze turned glacial.
The martial arena known as Yongbong-jihoe.
The fact that I was here still felt peculiar to me.
‘How did this happen.’
How in the world had I ended up in such a place.
It didn’t feel like where I belonged.
‘…I was swept up in it.’
Yes, that was precisely the right way to describe it.
Swept along and tossed about, and now I find myself here.
I had work that needed doing, so I shouldn’t have exposed my face so carelessly.
Do-hyeong knew his choice was wrong for his objective, yet he was puzzled that he had acted regardless.
Why? What was the reason?
‘Was it because of that bastard.’
The reason came to mind immediately.
The person who had dragged me here.
My junior, Bangseong-yeon, must have been the problem.
‘…That man is strange.’
No matter how much I thought about it, he was truly peculiar.
Bangseong-yeon possessed formidable talent. I knew well, having witnessed his fight in Sacheon with my own eyes.
The sword force blooming from Bangseong-yeon’s hands, brimming with an eerie radiance.
And how he had struck down masters I could never have reached with that very blade.
Though he now appeared to be restraining his power somewhat, perhaps to face the disciples, knowing his true capabilities left me in awe.
‘How does he act so seamlessly without showing it.’
Bangseong-yeon, unwilling to reveal his full strength, lived entirely through deception.
He did so even in his match against Woon-ryong, one of the Seven Swordsmen.
As if he wished to give the impression of a narrow victory, he displayed acting of the highest degree.
Had I not known his true abilities, even I would have been deceived.
‘He is truly remarkable.’
Though my junior, I held Bangseong-yeon in high regard.
Despite possessing such talent and the background of being Geomseong’s Predecessor, he harbored no arrogance.
Rather, he moved through the world with eyes that spoke of weariness and indifference.
How could he maintain such peace of mind.
‘Had it been me.’
If I had been Bangseong-yeon.
I would not have been like him. I would have used whatever means necessary to achieve my goals with the power I possessed.
Yes, I would have done my utmost to find them and put them to death.
However, Bangseong-yeon did not use his power for personal gain.
Rather, he concealed it and refused to display it.
It seemed like an effort to fully bear the name of hero that came with being the Sword Saint.
Was that why?
Was that why Bangseong-yeon could become the Sword Saint’s Predecessor?
“….”
Do-hyeong came to understand it that way.
Within himself, his junior Bangseong-yeon was such an existence.
‘Then, what about me?’
What of himself, then?
I don’t know. I don’t know, but Do-hyeong simply wished he could be like Bangseong-yeon.
If that were the case, my grandfather would not have closed his eyes like that.
Just as he was steadying his breath with such thoughts.
-Next combatant, prepare yourself!
The announcement rang out. It was his turn.

* * *
“Oh, he’s coming up.”
I watched Do-hyeong ascend onto the martial stage.
I wondered when he would arrive, but it was faster than expected.
At the same time, I also observed Socheongeom ascending from the opposite side.
That fellow’s expression was full of discontent.
Why is he like that again?
Finding it strange, I continued watching Socheongeom.
[So you were here.]
I turned my gaze at the rough voice. It was Yoo Cheon-gil. He had returned.
‘Where did he go this time?’
I narrowed my eyes and looked at him once more before turning my attention back to the stage.
[Hmm? Are those two fighting each other?]
I nodded slightly. Yoo Cheon-gil, seeing this, spoke in a flat tone.
[Well then, it will end quickly.]
His voice was devoid of interest. What was that?
‘End quickly?’
Both were martial artists who had surpassed the peak realm, so why was Yoo Cheon-gil so certain?
Moreover, who did he expect to win?
As I stared with bewilderment, Socheongeom’s lips suddenly moved.
Too far away to hear the words, but I could see Do-hyeong’s expression change after hearing them.
‘Oh?’
Unusually, Do-hyeong’s expression appeared quite uncomfortable.
What words could he have heard to cause such a reaction?
In that fleeting moment of curiosity.
-Cheonwol Disciple Do-hyeong versus Namgung Seong of the Namgung Clan.
The Referee raised his hand and spoke.
-Match. Begin.
In that instant.
CRASH!!!
-Guh-ack!?
Namgung Seong’s face was driven into the ground by Do-hyeong’s fist.
It was a single blow.

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