The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 210

—————
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 210
Thud.
Dang Cheon-il collapsed, bleeding profusely. I lost count of how many times he rolled across the ground.
He flew nearly off the arena before crashing down, gasping for breath.
[Ah, damn.]
“Ah, damn.”
Both Yoo Cheon-gil and I reacted simultaneously at the sight.
Dang Cheon-il lay motionless. The blood trickling from his body suggested his condition was far from good.
“Damn! Dok-ryong has fallen.”
“…He evaded so well, but this time he couldn’t escape?”
“Tsk tsk…”
The spectators immediately voiced their reactions. Watching them, I furrowed my brow.
‘I should have ended it faster.’
I’d missed my timing, and that included everything else.
‘Is that bastard insane?’
I was astounded by the potential Peng Dojun possessed.
‘He grasped that immediately?’
That man’s expression had been subtle throughout, but it seemed he was analyzing how Dok-ryong was evading the attacks.
Then.
‘He deliberately exposed his body to confirm it.’
Within several exchanges, he allowed the short blade to cut through his own body while continuously verifying his hypothesis.
How it could be done. He kept repeating this analysis—
‘And finally, he figured it out.’
He had identified his own weakness.
The wrist. He realized the movement originating from there, and more than that, he adapted to it.
‘He mixed in a feint.’
He reversed the wrist’s response and threw his fist where Dang Cheon-il was about to move.
That was the result.
Dang Cheon-il, struck directly in the face, collapsed.
‘…It’s over.’
I was certain of it. That man won’t get up from that.
The complete absence of movement was proof.
A cold silence fell, and in that gap, Peng Dojun slowly relaxed his body.
“Phew.”
Pat, pat. He brushed dust from his martial robes with his hands several times.
Squeeze—!
Suddenly, he grasped his robes and wrung them out forcefully. Then—
Drip, drip, drip—!
Remarkably, blood streamed from his martial robes.
How much blood had he lost? And yet, how could his complexion remain so unchanged despite all that bleeding?
It’s enough to make one question what’s happening.
After squeezing out a few more powerful strikes like that.
“Not bad at all.”
Peng Dojun speaks, lifting the corners of his mouth.
“Thanks to you, I’ve come to understand something I didn’t know before. I’m grateful to you for that part.”
“….”
Peng Dojun continues speaking toward Dang Cheon-il, who cannot respond.
“Did you still think I saw you as some X-Person? I’ll take that back. Ah, of course.”
A soft chuckle.
“You still don’t seem worth remembering the name of, though.”
That’s about it.
As if that’s all the words worth speaking, Peng Dojun brushed himself off.
Having said as much, the Referee slowly approaches Dang Cheon-il.
“….”
He places his hand on Dang Cheon-il’s back to assess his condition.
And then.
“…Hebei Peng Clan’s Peng Dojun versus Sichuan Dang Clan’s Dang Cheon-il match, Peng Dojun wins….”
The moment the Referee is about to properly declare Peng Dojun’s victory.
Crack—!
“Huh?”
Dang Cheon-il, who had been lying as if dead, grasps the Referee’s hand.
“Not yet….”
He slowly raises his body.
“It’s not over yet.”
As he lifts his fallen head, it’s truly a mess. His face is caked with blood, and blood still flows from his nose.
“Not yet. It hasn’t ended.”
Dang Cheon-il’s eyes still burn with life.
“What?”
Seeing this, Peng Dojun furrows his brow.
How is he getting up?
‘Surely.’
By his own senses, it should have been over already.
The fact that he’s raising his body like this was bewildering.
And so.
“This is interesting?”
Interest ignites once more in Peng Dojun’s eyes.

* * *
Despite the haze clouding my mind, certain memories refuse to fade even in death.
Everyone possesses such memories, and Dang Cheon-il was no exception.
‘No… I don’t want to do this.’
From when I was very young and small.
Those were the words my younger sister, even younger than myself, had spoken through tears.
‘I… don’t want to do this… don’t want to learn…’
The sight of her choking back tears as they streamed down was pathetic.
And my own helpless figure watching her was even worse.
Powerless.
That day when I, called the Dang Clan’s greatest prospect, was utterly defeated by my younger sister. That day when my pride shattered completely.
That very day, my sister declared she would never learn martial arts again, and all my remaining dignity crumbled to dust.
That day was like hell for me.
How could such a thing have happened?
What was I lacking?
I had grasped the blade years earlier.
I had wielded the short sword far more times.
Countless were the toxic herbs I had consumed, and numerous were the venomous creatures I had slain.
Yet even combining all of that, I could not defeat my young sister.
That wounded and shattered pride transformed into inferiority toward her.
‘Why won’t you do it? Go out right now and pick up the short sword!’
She became the target of my resentment.
‘What? Refinement? You find metallurgy more interesting? There’s a limit to being stupid. What’s so important about that nonsense?’
I grew angry at a child who found such things more enjoyable than martial arts.
Was this the time to learn such trivial matters? I demanded she go out immediately and master martial arts to contribute to the clan.
I cursed her and trampled on my sister’s pride.
Yet even as I did, I knew.
The only pride being trampled was my own.
And that her choice bore some of my fault as well.
‘Because I was incompetent.’
Because I lacked ability.
My sister knew I harbored inferiority toward her.
She understood that I had damaged my own brother with my own hands, and she blamed herself for it.
I know she fled and turned away to somewhere else.
That’s why. That’s precisely why I couldn’t accept it, but.
‘Incompetent woman.’
My mouth could not contain my true feelings.
Even knowing who was truly incompetent, I foolishly let those words spill out.
Yet my sister, hearing such insults, simply went about her duties in silence.
I wondered.
Why did I maintain this position even while receiving such insults?
‘Is it truly amusing?’
Perhaps I had discovered a sanctuary in the place I fled toward.
Moreover.
‘If that place were a sanctuary.’
There would be no need to leave it.
Dang Cheon-il spoke words that contradicted his actions.
One day, he went to his father, Dokuou, and spoke.
‘Allow me to enter Cheolgang?’
‘Yes.’
He asked that his younger brother be permitted to remain in Cheolgang.
Upon hearing this, Dokuou regarded Dang Cheon-il with his characteristically sharp gaze.
‘Your reason?’
‘I find the sight of him unbearable, so I merely hope he remains there indefinitely.’
A shameful statement. It would be unsurprising to face his wrath for uttering such words.
‘I understand.’
Dokuou, surprisingly, offered no further comment.
Rather.
‘However, there is a condition.’
He simply imposed one condition upon his son.
‘Fulfill the clan’s expectations completely. Should you fail to do so, this matter ceases to exist.’
‘….’
To completely fulfill the clan’s expectations.
Upon hearing this, Dang Cheon-il did not hesitate.
My life as Dok-ryong began in this manner.
The reincarnation of Dokjon.
Bearing the expectations of the elders upon my shoulders.
I had never cared for the position of Younger Master or any other station, and with my older brother present, I gave it no thought.
For me, only one thing mattered.
To firmly maintain my position as the reincarnation of Dokjon.
That was my sole desire, and I sought to live such a life.
Then a problem arose.
‘Dok-ryong was defeated in a single strike by Heuk Taedo.’
The day I sought out the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.
I had to kneel before yet another heaven.
A single strike.
Not only was I defeated in that one blow.
‘You are an X-Person.’
I even heard a contemptuous remark from the one who felled me.
My pride was crushed. Moreover, my standing wavered.
To have reached the seventh stage and yet lose so pathetically to a blood relative of the same Five Great Clans—it was unbearable.
That fact gnawed at every fiber of Dang Cheon-il’s being.
‘This cannot stand.’
I needed to become more ruthless.
If I had wavered, I had to correct course immediately.
So I spent my days consumed by frenzied cultivation.
My sole obsession was revenge, and as time passed in that pursuit—
‘Geomseong’s Predecessor has come to Sacheon.’
I encountered him.
A newly announced fact from the Cheongwol Sect.
The Predecessor of Sword Saint Yoo Cheon-gil had appeared.
‘Sword Saint?’
Dang Cheon-il’s eyes widened. As if the Heavenly Supreme’s Predecessor appearing wasn’t enough.
He was coming to Sacheon?
‘Could this be an opportunity?’
Perhaps it was indeed an opportunity.
Dang Cheon-il nodded to himself.
Yoo Cheon-gil—my grandfather’s old friend and the greatest swordsman of this age.
If I could defeat his Predecessor, wouldn’t that help restore my standing?
With that thought, Dang Cheon-il met him the day the Predecessor arrived.
My first impression was unremarkable.
‘He’s handsome.’
Just a handsome, frail man.
That was the extent of my assessment.
He didn’t appear particularly strong, and his eyes seemed dull—lacking any real conviction.
Could this really be Sword Saint’s Predecessor?
It made no sense.
But it didn’t matter.
What mattered was something else entirely.
If anything, weakness was convenient. I could use it to my advantage, to solidify my position.
So I provoked him.
I paid no heed to my father’s disapproval and continued needling the man.
But then—
‘That’s enough.’
The anger came not from him, but from someone else.
‘Ugh!’
My younger sister.
Dang Yeeran had rushed at me.
And I was helpless against her, taking a beating for the first time in ages.
It hurt. My younger sister was still formidable.
And while taking painful blows, Dang Cheon-il caught sight of Dang Yeeran’s eyes.
She was angry. She, who had never revealed her emotions, was angry at him.
Perhaps it was because of those eyes.
Though I could have counterattacked honestly, Dang Cheon-il took the blows obediently.
I was delighted.
That my younger sister was angry for me.
The problem was.
‘Because of that bastard.’
The reason she was angry was because of that dull fool, which irritated me.
‘A man I don’t like.’
Grrr.
Just thinking about it makes my teeth grind.
What is that bastard doing.
What exactly is he doing to provoke such a reaction.
It infuriates me beyond measure.
‘Damn it.’
Surprisingly, that man was stronger than I had anticipated.
When the opportunity arose and we clashed, I was utterly defeated by Bang Seong-yeon, Geomseong’s Predecessor.
The bastard was cunningly concealing his true strength.
Moreover.
‘What? He saved the Dang Clan?’
He supposedly rescued the Dang Clan from the hands of the Sapa.
That’s the most ridiculous nonsense I’ve ever heard.
By the time I realized it, he had become a hero of the Dang Clan.
And on top of that.
‘What is Manceon Hwau, for God’s sake.’
A secret technique left behind by Geomseong, or so they said.
He even restored the Dang Clan’s Manceon Hwau.
It’s hopeless.
I cannot touch this man.
Just as Dang Cheon-il was despairing and collapsing.
‘Learn Manceon Hwau from Bang Disciple.’
‘What?’
Dokuou gave me an absurd task.
‘Damn it.’
Could things be twisted any more than this.
I had to learn martial arts from a man I had despised.
Given my temperament, it was absolutely unacceptable.
‘If you refuse, I will arrange the youngest’s engagement.’
‘….’
Dokuou already knew well what Dang Cheon-il’s weakness was.
‘Damn it.’
That’s why I’ve ended up like this.
Receiving scorn from everyone, hearing baseless rumors spread that I serve the Protagonist, yet unable to say anything in response.
The reason I must grovel.
It was this.
‘What kind of man is he.’
The more time passed.
The more questions arose in Dang Cheon-il’s mind about Bangseong-yeon.
What was his true identity.
Perhaps from seeing him multiple times. Looking into Bangseong-yeon’s eyes, I sensed something different.
He wasn’t blind.
‘It was vast.’
Not seeing nothing.
But seeing far too much.
Dang Cheon-il observed Bangseong-yeon carefully.
While eating, while traveling.
His gaze was either watching the group or observing something else entirely.
When he stared into empty space, there was something unsettling about it.
‘He’s definitely seeing something.’
Seeing something.
And doing something.
An atmosphere completely opposite to other martial artists.
Moreover, I could tell he held secrets unknown to others.
Though I couldn’t discern what they were.
Dang Cheon-il was certain of one thing: he was no ordinary being.
As if to prove this.
‘Listen carefully.’
Bangseong-yeon had taught him how to counter Heuk Taedo.
And remarkably, it was the truth.
‘Just what.’
What was that man’s true identity.
As only questions swirled in my mind.
Boom—!!
“Cough!”
My body rolled across the ground once more.
With a gasp.
“Ugh—!”
I felt cracks forming in my arms. I barely managed to block it with my energy.
“Where are you looking.”
“…!”
This time, the attack comes from the front.
Whoosh—!
I barely dodged it.
No, I didn’t dodge it.
Crack—!
“Ugh!”
The moment I thought I’d evaded, a fist came crashing down from above onto the crown of my head.
Thud—!
My forehead slams into the ground and bounces back up.
Wham—! This time, a foot drives into my abdomen.
My vision twists. By the time I realized what was happening, my body was already rolling toward the edge of the arena.
“Uurgh!”
The impact to my abdomen forces bile up my throat.
My vision grows distant.
My body had reached its limit.
“Hmph.”
A snort reaches my ears.
“I thought you might be decent, but I was wrong. It seems all you’ve gained is a thicker hide.”
“Cough.”
“Stop this. It’s meaningless.”
Swaying, I pushed myself back to my feet.
Beyond the nausea, blood now drips from my mouth.
“…Not yet.”
Does pride still linger in this broken body of mine?
Dang Cheon-il forced out words he didn’t want to speak.
Just give up.
What meaning could there be, as Heuk Taedo said?
It’s nothing but stubborn pride.
You.
Me.
We cannot reach him.
“….”
The thoughts that naturally surfaced in my mind pressed down heavily upon Dang Cheon-il.
“Not yet.”
Yet even as I clearly recalled this, the same words spilled from my lips.
My head and mouth have always worked separately.
“….”
My gaze turned toward something.
I search for those blue eyes somewhere among the spectators.
Found him.
Bangseong-yeon was staring at me with a grotesquely contorted face.
Why did he have to look at me of all people? Even Dang Cheon-il couldn’t be certain.
If there was any problem at all.
‘You can do it.’
Those careless words that man had uttered were likely the issue.
What were those words?
How could such trivial words keep making my body rise again and again?
“Not yet—”
“Tsk.”
Crack—!!
My head snapped back.
Heuk Taedo’s fist drove into my face.
Whoosh—!
“…!”
Heuk Taedo’s head jerked upward. A hidden blade had grazed his face.
“Huh? You dodged?”
Surprise flickered across his expression. I had dodged—not completely, but I’d managed to deflect the impact at the last moment.
And in that gap, I’d even thrown the hidden blade.
‘Look at this guy.’
What is this? My stamina should already be at its limit. How am I still moving?
‘Did my instinct fail me?’
This should have ended long ago, yet somehow my consciousness refused to shatter.
Of course.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Boom—!!
Heuk Taedo immediately swept a kick at my chest, sending me flying backward again.
Yet I staggered upright once more.
This was growing tedious.
His stubbornness was remarkable, but I’d already lost interest.
“…I really should end this.”
Whoooosh.
Heuk Taedo began gathering energy at his fist, condensing it into a sphere.
Meaningless barrage.
It had been merely a fleeting interest, so now I intended to finish it.
The moment I slowly clenched my fist.
“…Each one separately.”
“Hm?”
Dang Cheon-il’s voice reached me.
“What did you say?”
I asked back, but Dang Cheon-il merely stared at Heuk Taedo with a trembling body.
“…Refine the energy….”
“…What are you saying.”
I understood.
‘He’s lost his mind.’
Had he released the spirit he was enduring? His gaze had already departed from this world.
‘Tsk.’
Peng Dojun gathered strength in his lower body.
I would end this with one final strike.
Making that judgment, the moment I launched my body forward.
“…It must be a downpour.”
Dang Cheon-il moved his body.
“…!”
Then, Peng Dojun’s body stiffened without his own awareness.
“What is this?”
What is this? Why did my body freeze?
I couldn’t comprehend it.
I looked at Dang Cheon-il with startled eyes.
“A downpour….”
Dang Cheon-il muttered.
Watching him, my instincts spoke to me.
‘This is dangerous.’
Something felt dangerous. My instincts whispered as much.
“Ha!”
The corners of my mouth rose.
Danger meant only one thing—excitement.
“There’s something here!”
There was something.
Dead anticipation surged back to life.
“Then I should see it.”
Something worthy of stirring my instincts.
It was strange that he showed it only now, but curiosity seized me.
“Come on, let me see it once…!”
The moment I was about to speak loudly.
Pop.
A small sound burst forth.
Dang Cheon-il reached his hand toward somewhere.
The sky.
“Hm?”
Why toward the sky? Peng Dojun raised his head in bewilderment.
“…What?”
The sky was no longer visible.
What glimpsed through the azure expanse was not the sun.
Flying needles numerous enough to obscure that brilliant blue sky.
And yet.
‘This is….’
Each and every needle carried something wrapped around it.
A chill ran down my spine.
The moment Peng Dojun laid eyes upon them, goosebumps erupted across his back.
“Descend.”
Dang Cheon-il infused power into his previously hoarse voice.
And then.
ROOOOOAAAAARRRRR–!!!
The cruelest rain ever devised by the Dang Clan poured down from the heavens.

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