The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 32

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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 032
‘…What…?’
My eyes widened at the Old Man’s words. What had he just said?
I wanted to ask for clarification, but with Wol Seon-geom standing before me, I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
“What’s the matter?”
“No, it’s nothing at all.”
I rolled my eyes toward Yoo Cheon-gil, but he merely gazed back at me with that characteristic infuriating smile.
[Tsk tsk. Your expression is quite entertaining. That look of shock suits you well.]
He didn’t seem to care that he was making a spectacle of me, simply grinning as he watched.
‘What is he trying to accomplish…?’
I shot daggers with my eyes, but the Old Man’s laughter only deepened.
[Why? Are you flustered that I won’t help?]
Of course I’m flustered, you mad old fool.
[Looking at your eyes, you’re cursing me out quite thoroughly in your mind.]
His perception was sharp enough, so why this sudden madness? I couldn’t comprehend it.
[Don’t look at me with such resentful eyes.]
‘He’s enjoying this.’
Then what expression should I wear in this situation? I’m suffering because of him, and now he won’t help?
It was absurd.
[I need to confirm something clearly.]
Confirm what? What exactly was he trying to verify? As I stared with confusion, Yoo Cheon-gil added his explanation.
[That you can do this alone without my help. You need to confirm that for yourself as well.]
‘…What….’
I could do this without the Old Man’s assistance?
It seemed like nonsense. How could I accomplish anything when the profound energy had only entered my body mere days ago?
I had no faith in it whatsoever.
But.
“Then, I’ll look forward to it.”
‘Damn it.’
The situation had already spiraled beyond control. I stood at the edge of a cliff.
And that mad old fool had pushed me off.

* * *
What does one typically do to prove something?
Especially when proving one’s qualifications?
If I had to think about it, it would be demonstrating the value of one’s existence. That was all there was to it.
The value that I, as an existence, possessed.
Whether I was someone capable of keeping my word or not.
This act was meant to show exactly that.
‘To be honest….’
Up to this point, things were manageable. If they asked me to show something, I could show it.
After all, I had the Demon Yoo Cheon-gil, the Sword Saint, dwelling within me.
The time he could possess my body was merely an instant at best.
Even that brief moment was sufficient.
Even if I despised that wretched old man, I had to acknowledge this much.
‘Our levels are different.’
The path he had walked and the value of the soul he possessed were on a different plane. I still wasn’t certain whether he truly was Sword Saint Yoo Cheon-gil.
But regardless, I now knew he was an extraordinarily formidable martial artist.
However.
‘Do it alone…?’
With such a Yoo Cheon-gil refusing to aid me, what could I possibly accomplish?
As such doubts sprouted abundantly, I found myself standing in the middle of a training ground.
And in my hand, I held a single real blade.
The weight of it settled in my grip, and from all directions, I felt their gazes upon me.
I glanced to the side. These weren’t ghostly flames—they were eerie, piercing eyes.
They were the same men who had interrogated me earlier, led by Wol Seon-geom.
Most of them possessed blue eyes, and they watched me intently, unwilling to miss even the slightest movement.
‘…I’m going to suffocate at this rate.’
Merely enduring their gazes made my chest feel heavy.
I had to do my utmost not to let this discomfort show.
The training ground was far too vast to stand alone in.
Standing here with a single real blade in hand, a strange sentiment washed over me.
‘What should I do?’
What was I supposed to do here?
Even now, standing as I was, I had no idea. So I looked toward Wol Seon-geom.
“What would you like me to demonstrate?”
“Show us what you are capable of.”
Damn. A truly helpful answer. In essence, his words meant: figure it out yourself and satisfy us.
‘Tch.’
Something I’m capable of? How could there be anything like that?
‘It was only possible because that old man was here.’
Without him, what could I possibly do?
Contemplating this, doubt and irritation welled up within me.
‘What in the world is he thinking?’
If that’s the case, why did he spend all night devising this plan?
Yoo Cheon-gil would face the same consequences if he didn’t help me.
In fact, to achieve what he desires, helping me would be the logical choice.
‘What is his intention?’
Why did he throw me off the cliff?
I couldn’t understand it. I didn’t understand it, and I couldn’t respect it either.
How could I respect such a decision when my life hung in the balance?
Part of me wanted to enter his body right then and demand he end this situation.
‘…Did that old man raise me without any real plan?’
Even as irritation gnawed at me, a persistent thought kept surfacing in my mind.
Given that cursed old man’s nature, he wouldn’t have raised me without some purpose in mind.
‘What does he expect me to do?’
He mentioned confirmation, didn’t he?
‘Confirmation that I can accomplish this much on my own.’
That’s why he said he wouldn’t help me.
‘So what am I supposed to do?’
If I could do something, what exactly could I do?
I had no idea. I glanced cautiously at my surroundings.
‘…Why do their eyes look so murderous?’
The gazes fixed upon me seemed ready to ignite into flames at any moment.
Suppressing a sigh, I lifted my head.
‘What I can do.’
He must have given me this task because such a thing exists.
Recalling this, I focused my mind.
What could I accomplish? With my eyes closed, I struggled to remember.
Then.
‘The moon does not choose the ground upon which it rises.’
A memory surfaced—something the old man had shown me once.
That absurd act of creating a moon with a blade.
The scene from when I destroyed Socheongeom.
That moment came rushing back.
How had I done it then? Recalling that time, I slowly applied force to the sword’s grip.
From that point onward, my mind gradually began to cool.

* * *
[Tsk, tsk.]
The Old Man watched the Young Man’s back and chuckled quietly.
[Muttering and complaining one moment, then suddenly shifting like that. Truly a peculiar one.]
Just moments ago, this fellow had been cursing with his very eyes, yet his demeanor transformed in an instant.
Witnessing this, the Old Man smiled with satisfaction.
[Indeed, an amusing lad.]
Truly amusing.
Having lived for decades and encountered countless people, this Young Man stood apart among them all.
[To maintain such focus even in this situation.]
Those who glare as if they won’t tolerate the slightest criticism.
Situations grown anxious in the effort to make falsehood appear as truth.
An ordinary person would have crumbled long ago without cause for surprise.
Yet Bangseong-yeon possessed none of these weaknesses.
[He concentrates solely on the task at hand.]
No matter what circumstances arose, he maintained his reason.
As the saying goes, even in a tiger’s den, one survives if they keep their wits about them.
Bangseong-yeon was the very embodiment of that principle.
Observe.
[Already, the surroundings fade from his awareness.]
Bangseong-yeon stood with sword in hand, eyes closed.
His breathing, which had been unsteady moments before, had calmed.
His scattered energy had been gathered and controlled.
[Tsk, tsk.]
The Old Man smiled with evident satisfaction.
[You likely don’t realize it.]
You remain ignorant of what value you possess.
And furthermore.
[I won’t tell you until you discover it yourself.]
The Old Man had no intention of revealing to Bangseong-yeon the worth he carried.
With eyes closed, his energy began to shimmer and ripple.
Observing the mirage of the Cheonwol Heart Technique, the Old Man narrowed his eyes.
The task the Old Man had assigned to Bangseong-yeon.
To replicate the heart technique he had demonstrated before arriving at the Cheonwol Gate.
Yet this instruction contained a flaw in its premise.
[It’s no trivial matter to accomplish in mere days.]
Even at minimum, a year.
That was the timeframe even for those blessed with talent suited to the Cheonwol Heart Technique.
The Old Man himself had required three months to achieve it.
[Yet in less than seven days, he’s already grasping the essence.]
Bangseong-yeon grasped the essence of it within mere days.
It was utterly absurd.
He claimed he simply remembered what his body experienced and replicated it?
[Haha.]
He spoke such nonsense with disarming ease.
Did he understand how many bodily responses occur when a single movement unfolds?
Much less when executing martial techniques—one must also attend to the flow of qi.
And he claimed to simply memorize and replicate it?
[He doesn’t even realize how impossible what he’s accomplishing truly is.]
At this point, it was the Old Man who found himself struggling to comprehend.
Why had such a monster been living as a mere third-rate martial artist?
He mentioned something about a fortuitous encounter that had entered his body.
Even without such fortune, Bangseong-yeon was no one destined to remain at the third rank.
There was something peculiar about it, certainly.
[Show me what you’ve got.]
But now there were other matters to observe.
Those cunning foxes with their eyes full of suspicion.
The Old Man was curious what Bangseong-yeon would reveal to them.
Swish—
And so Bangseong-yeon began to move.
With his stance lowered to its fullest, power surging through his thighs, while Yoo Cheon-gil observed the wrist gripping the blade and broke into a grin that split his face.
[That mad bastard.]
Bangseong-yeon’s blade moves.
우우우우웅—!!!!
Vibrations seep into the tip of the slowly sweeping sword. As his waist turns, the blade increasingly cleaves through empty space.
[하하하하하—!!!]
The Old Man laughed aloud at the sight.
In the form of his swordplay, someone’s silhouette overlaps.
It was himself.
Bangseong-yeon had embodied Yoo Cheon-gil within his own flesh, and from the fingertips of that execution bloomed—
[He’s finally manifested the moon.]
The moon that Yoo Cheon-gil so cherished was rising into being.
The trembling wretch from moments before had vanished without a trace.
끼기기긱—!!!
A single strike.
Merely one sweep of the blade.
In terms of time, it was but an instant; as a technique, it was nothing remarkable.
And yet.
“…Hah….”
“…That….”
Those who faced Bangseong-yeon’s blade could only gape in astonishment.
They too were martial artists of the Cheonwol Gate.
They could not possibly fail to recognize what technique Bangseong-yeon had just unleashed.
Cheonwol Sword Dance (靑月劍舞). First Form.
Moonwave (月浪).
The first moon that could only be performed after opening the Lunar Eye.
That beautiful spectacle unfolded from Bangseong-yeon’s hands.
And yet.
“Just now… was that….”
“That person’s….”
Not all instances of the Cheonwol Sword Dance were truly the same.
Only one person could execute movements so rough yet so noble.
No—I had believed that no one could anymore, since even that person had long since vanished.
Yet such a blade unfolded from the hands of a youth not yet in his twenties.
It was remarkable enough that even Wol Seon-geom, who had maintained an expressionless face from the start, now showed surprise.
In that moment.
Bangseong-yeon, frozen after unleashing the Moonwave, responded.
He opened his eyes that had been closed.
Light gathered in his blue irises, and a faint blue aura flowed from his body—an aftereffect of the profound technique.
Perhaps because of the technique he had just performed, he appeared unusually mystical.
As everyone’s attention converged upon him.
“Ah.”
Bangseong-yeon uttered a small sound.
“Huh.”
Then he added with a hollow laugh.
“This….”
His voice carried a tone of bewilderment.
“It’s easier than I thought?”
[하하하하하하하하—!!!!]
Hearing this, Yoo Cheon-gil burst into uproarious laughter.

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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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