The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 329

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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 329
Screeeech–!! Crack!!
The blade sweeps through with devastating force. The forest ruptures, and leaves shred to pieces the moment they fall from their branches.
A tempest of destruction. Wind—or what appears to be wind—relentlessly engulfs everything in all directions.
The astonishing truth: this is no ordinary wind.
It is pure energy.
Momentum.
Fighting spirit.
Killing intent.
Every form of qi that the martial artist unleashes transforms into wind pressure, exerting its crushing force.
“Hah!”
Boom–!!
Flashes of light collide in succession. In the dark night, brilliance crashes against brilliance.
Azure light and crimson light.
Two streams of radiance collide repeatedly, and with each impact, the wind intensifies.
Crack-crash!!
Sword energy mingles with the gale, severing trees in its path.
Clang–! Clang-clang!
Boom–!
Blades lock, then the sword force ruptures, detonating in explosive force.
Sound itself cannot keep pace with this velocity.
After a prolonged exchange at this ferocious speed.
Whoosh.
The crimson light intensifies.
Plum Blossom Sword Technique.
Plum Blossom’s Difficult Illumination.
Roooaarrr–!!!
Energy coalesces into a petal-like form, and the resulting pressure surges skyward.
A force resembling a pillar of light expands in magnitude, unleashing a violent explosion.
Catastrophic boom–!!
The violent detonation consumes the ground. Boulders and trees alike vanish beneath the overwhelming light.
From within that radiance, a figure emerged moments later.
“…Phew.”
It was Sochul Daeju. He brushed the dust from his body while gripping his blade.
As he created distance and fixed his gaze upon the light.
Whoooosh–!!!
Sword energy shot forth from within the light.
Clang–!
Sochul Daeju raised his blade to deflect the incoming sword force.
At that moment, a figure burst from within the light, charging directly into his embrace.
Screech—!!!!
Blade met blade. They locked in a contest of strength, their gazes clashing.
“Is your power insufficient?”
The Old Man—Maehua Daeju’s words made Sochul Daeju narrow his eyes.
“Does it appear that way? If so, you’re mistaken.”
“You haven’t changed much from those days when you were nothing but a bloody mess.”
“I don’t entertain idle banter.”
Clang—! I thrust my blade upward, and my body twisted at the waist.
Wolrang.
A crescent moon carved through the night.
It drove sharply toward Maehua Daeju.
“Hmm.”
Maehua Seonghon.
Maehua Daeju’s blade deflected mine.
The crescent moon bent. The Cheongwol Sect’s swordplay was blocked, but I paid it no mind.
This too was within my calculations.
Thud.
I stamped the ground roughly and smoothly rotated the path of my blade.
Cheongroeum-un Geomshik.
I displayed the fundamental sword form of Cheongwol Swordplay.
Clouds obscuring the moon.
Light so gentle yet ultimately impossible to conceal.
The clean, unadorned blade expressing that bursting radiance trampled lightly upon the plum petals as I advanced toward Maehua Daeju.
Screech—!!
Petals gathered to block my blade.
The rapidly spinning blades clashed several times.
Clang—!
Yet neither of us could decide the matter, only increasing the distance between us.
“…”
About ten paces.
As we separated by that distance, my eyes narrowed.
‘I’m being pushed back.’
I admitted it frankly. Against Maehua Daeju, I was falling short by just one notch.
Exactly one notch.
I hadn’t sustained any grave wounds, but small cuts had accumulated across my body.
From that last collision alone, I felt my internal energy waver slightly.
‘Was he always this strong?’
Crossing blades with Maehua Daeju was ancient history.
Back when I was called nothing but a bloody mess, as he said.
Disciples. Or perhaps slightly higher than that. We had crossed blades once then, when I sought to learn the sword.
Back then, I had hit a wall.
At that time, Maehua Daeju was already one of Hwasan’s heroes—an absolute master.
I was merely one martial artist among many.
And so the years had passed.
‘Still.’
Despite the passage of time, he remained strong?
Perhaps it was inevitable. As long as a martial artist did not neglect their training, their power could only grow stronger.
‘…Something feels off.’
Sochul Daeju had to sense something peculiar in this present fight.
‘Something is strange.’
I could not pinpoint exactly what it was.
It was simply strange.
‘Was it always like this?’
The sword of Hwasan.
The freshness and abundance felt within it.
The Taoist sword should overflow with such dignity as to inspire awe.
‘What is that sword?’
Maehua Daeju’s sword was something strange.
It was a sword missing something that should have been felt.
“What have you done?”
Unable to contain his curiosity, Sochul Daeju asked.
“What do you mean?”
Maehua Daeju asked while radiating his aura. I answered honestly.
“Though you yourself may have fallen, the sword should not fall. How has it changed so?”
“….”
“Maehua Daeju. Have you truly allowed even your sword to become so corrupted?”
“Ha.”
At Sochul Daeju’s words, Maehua Daeju let out a hollow laugh.
“Trivial wordplay. Has your strength failed you so?”
“….”
“Truly crude and sloppy chatter. Enough nonsense—draw your sword. We do not have much time.”
Whether he took it merely as provocation, Maehua Daeju grew angry.
Did he truly not know? No. Sochul Daeju believed that was not the case.
And for good reason.
“You know it yourself.”
“…What?”
“You rage because you know it all. You have changed far too much.”
“….”
Maehua Daeju’s face twisted in anguish.
But he could speak no further. The truth had struck home.
The sword had transformed.
Those words carved deeply into his heart.
“You dare, not knowing your place….”
Screech.
Maehua Daeju leaped forward, radiating killing intent.
Seeing this, Sochul Daeju raised his sword once more.
Crash—!!
The clash erupted anew.
Pushing back, blocking, deflecting, cutting—the movements flowed in succession.
Within those simple techniques lay countless variations repeating endlessly.
And with each exchange, Sochul Daeju’s thoughts deepened.
‘I’m losing ground.’
As a martial artist, it was undeniable.
I was gradually being pushed back. It wasn’t a matter of stamina—though the sword had fallen and transformed, I was being overwhelmed by the enlightenment and power that remained within it.
‘This is not simple.’
What should I do? No answer presented itself easily.
‘…Hmm.’
How had it come to this? That was the problem from the start.
Why was I locked in a life-or-death struggle with Maehua Daeju here?
As the clash continued, Sochul Daeju narrowed his eyes.
‘It’s because of that man.’
Regardless of Maehua Daeju’s status as a traitor—this was all because of Bangseong-yeon.
Everything twisted after encountering him.
No, it would be more accurate to say everything changed after seeing his form.
‘That….’
The appearance Bangseong-yeon displayed.
White hair and azure eyes. A beauty cradling moonlight.
The former Moonju and the hero who saved the world.
The very form that embodied the ideal Yoo Cheon-gil had envisioned.
‘What did he call it.’
Wol Cheon? Yes, that must have been it.
The true pinnacle of the Cheonwol Sect that Yoo Cheon-gil created.
Captivated by that form, I came this far.
I abandoned my own pride and devoted myself entirely to learning only that.
‘…What a fool.’
Even thinking of it myself, it was absurd.
Why must I go to such lengths for that?
‘All while accepting that ridiculous training.’
Movements devoid of meaning. The claim that Yoo Cheon-gil taught them to him, and he would teach them to me.
Was that claim even true?
The enlightenment that came from there undoubtedly existed, but I could not be certain whether it was the path toward the ideal I truly desired.
Certainty eluded me.
Without certainty came anxiety.
And that anxiety shackled my very feet.
This moment was no exception.
Clang—!!
“…!”
Sochul Daeju’s blade surged upward. Unrelenting.
Screech—!!
“Ugh!”
Maehua Daeju’s sword carved across his upper body.
Blood erupted.
Sochul Daeju hastily retreated.
Drip, drip, drip.
Blood spilled onto the ground without restraint.
“….”
I quickly applied pressure to stanch the wound, but the pain was considerable. Fortunately, it seemed I had avoided the vital points.
“Your mind is cluttered with distractions.”
At Maehua Daeju’s words, Sochul Daeju steadied his breathing.
“Is fighting me truly so tedious?”
“My apologies. A fallen blade such as myself grew careless for a moment.”
“Ha. Your tongue remains sharp. Is it the folly of youth?”
Young, he says. Compared to Maehua Daeju, I suppose that much is true.
“Hah….”
From losing so much blood at once, my mind felt hazy.
Conversely, my fever spiked sharply.
‘…My focus has scattered.’
Even now, my thoughts drift to Wol Cheon.
Even I found it absurd.
‘In truth, it is all meaningless.’
What is that light?
If I chase after one already gone, will anything truly change?
What am I seeking to gain?
I could not say.
Whoosh.
‘Think simply.’
That is what I do best.
See simply.
‘Look only at the enemy before you.’
What must I see now?
I had to focus on just that.
Before me stood a being I had to kill.
It was the same with the Gwima, and it was the same with Hyeon.
A few mistakes were merely a lack of skill.
Would I remain as I was? That was impossible.
-There’s nothing more pathetic than giving up, is there?
When I was exhausted from training and wanted to flee, my idol spoke these words to me in the rain.
-Just keep going. Before you know it, you’ll be moving forward without anyone pushing you.
I simply continued.
It was all I knew how to do.
“Maehua Daeju.”
“Speak.”
“Do you have any regrets about your choice?”
“Regrets?”
Could regret exist for one who had turned toward a different path?
It was a question asked indirectly.
“Is that a question that demands an answer?”
“No.”
Sochul Daeju’s response was sufficient with those words alone.
A moment of silence, wavering eyes, a fallen blade.
That was answer enough.
“You asked me something earlier.”
I considered my answer to the question.
“What I thought of Cheonwol Munchu.”
The answer had already been decided long ago. There was no need to deliberate.
“A being I must eventually overcome.”
I will defeat him.
I spoke with a smile.
“…What? You’re ultimately no different…”
“Only. There must be no wavering in my method.”
It was the way of the Cheonwol Sect.
The strongest becomes Munchu, and the martial artists of Cheonwol all ascend toward the heavens.
The Munchu himself knows this. That I swear loyalty to him, yet regard him with competitive intent.
I will one day defeat Wol Seon-geom.
And thus become Munchu.
However.
“My pride won’t allow me to use underhanded tactics in the process.”
I do it my way.
That’s the only way it has meaning.
“That’s why I’m disappointed in you.”
He had fled in such an undignified manner.
One of the Sword Saints I had once respected had fallen so far.
“Truly pathetic. I fear becoming as decrepit as you.”
That was genuinely distasteful.
“….”
Maehua Daeju fell silent upon hearing my words.
No words came.
Whoooosh—!!!
Yet his momentum surged with fury.
I had struck a nerve.
“…It seems I must kill you here, without fail.”
“How fortunate that our minds align.”
Screech.
I grasped my sword.
Whoosh—!!!
Our blades clashed.
My upper body ached.
I ignored it.
In that instant.
Whoosh!
‘Hmm?’
A strange sensation swept through me—as if the air itself surged upward.
My body felt weightless.
My mind went blank for a moment.
Crash—!!!
Maehua Daeju rushed forward.
Plum Blossom Chaos Dance.
Whirrrr—!!!
Petals swirled in dizzying chaos. Countless leaves were wielded without gap in the tempest.
Seeing this, Sochul Daeju steadied his breathing.
He raised his sword.
That was when.
Zing—!
Without any grand technique.
I simply drew downward.
My dazed mind executed it without thought.
Was this even right? Not even such doubt arose.
I simply descended.
As if.
‘Like that time.’
Bangseong-yeon’s slow, deliberate movements.
I replicated them exactly.
Shhhhh.
My energy flowed loosely, following the motions.
The energy that would normally have invaded my meridians rapidly now moved with restraint.
It was warm.
Perhaps from the rising heat.
Or perhaps the slow energy itself carried such a sensation.
I could not tell.
An alien energy enveloped my entire body.
At this rate, I would not merely fail to block the blade—I would be swept away and perish.
Even knowing this, my body continued.
Hwaaaaaaack–!!!
The petals reached Sochul Daeju’s eyes.
Thunk.
The flowing energy rebounded at my fingertips.
화아아아아아아—!!!
Light erupted.
The blade descended lightly.
Whissssh.
“….”
“….”
Sochul Daeju stood composed.
A small sound.
That was all.
“…You….”
Maehua Daeju, passing by me, murmured.
“How did you achieve… enlightenment….”
He could not finish his words.
Splurt-!
Blood burst forth as Maehua Daeju collapsed.
“….”
Even then, Sochul Daeju did not turn to look back, only gazing at his own blade.
“…This is….”
The color of sword energy, no different than before.
Yet its end was subtly transformed.
Something that shone with quiet luminescence had permeated it.
“Ahhh….”
Seeing this, Sochul Daeju understood.
Gwangwol Seomgyeong.
The Sword Saint’s sword energy was mixed in ever so subtly.

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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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