The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 401

—————
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 401
If I were to describe Do-hyeong’s life in words, I would call it colorless.
A dull, emotionless hue devoid of any vibrancy.
That was Do-hyeong’s life.
‘Grandson.’
I often recalled the words of my Grandfather, who raised and nurtured me.
‘Even if life is barren, not everything within it bears guilt.’
Even in a life that could be seen as tragic and sorrowful, my Grandfather would always speak to me in such a manner.
‘Resent nothing.’
‘Such things will ultimately tighten the noose around your neck. I beg you, do not follow that path.’
With a voice like gentle ripples, my Grandfather spoke these words to me.
He was always such a person—calm and unchanging, like a still lake no matter what transpired.
That was my Grandfather. A man who seemed he would never change.
Even.
Until the very moment of his death.
‘My grandson.’
While bleeding, he stroked my head and spoke.
‘Remember your grandfather’s words.’
‘Resent no one.’
Why?
Young Do-hyeong’s eyes filled with doubt.
Even as things had come to this, I was not to resent anyone?
With fists clenched, I finally asked my Grandfather.
‘Then who am I supposed to resent?’
No one could protect anything, and everything slowly decayed.
When trees wither and twist, was I not to resent the sky for withholding rain?
Tears mingled with the falling rain. The sky was unusually dark and heavy.
An aged hand caressed my cheek.
‘Do not concern yourself.’
‘This too shall pass.’
What would pass?
‘My grandson.’
My Grandfather, a smile lingering on his face, spoke to me at the end of his life.
‘Pursue happiness rather than anger.’
After hearing those final words, I thought.
I could obey all his other words, but this one—this I could not follow.
‘Ah…’
In the falling rain, I lost my bearings.
What remained in a life stripped of all direction?
I could not know.
I simply remained still. After a considerable time had passed.
Patter, patter, patter.
The falling rain ceased.
It seemed unreal. All the blood that had pooled around me was washed away.
A moment of silence descended.
Suddenly, Do-hyeong gazed up at the sky with vacant eyes.
The clouds parted and night emerged. At its center, the moon rose into view.
‘Ah.’
How blue it was.
Watching the blue moon, Do-hyeong suddenly recalled his Grandfather’s words.
‘The Cheongwol Sect.’
The place Grandfather spoke of every single day.
Words he had offered to Do-hyeong, who envied his Grandfather for possessing those blue eyes.
Though he had left because it didn’t suit him.
When Grandfather spoke of it as his homeland, a smile graced his lips.
Recalling this, Do-hyeong rose to his feet.
He had decided where to go.
Was it to hear Grandfather’s words once more, to remember him?
No.
‘…I apologize.’
Do-hyeong had never harbored such pure-hearted thoughts.
He could not heed words to pursue happiness.
‘I will go.’
After burying his Grandfather, who lay so peacefully, in the damp earth.
He took up the single sword his Grandfather had left behind and departed toward where the blue moon shone.
As his Grandfather’s sword, he would achieve what he sought to accomplish.
Do-hyeong’s purpose was revenge.
It had remained so from that moment until now.

* * *
Clang! Screech—!!
The blade dances. Its distinctive blue aura continuously clusters and disperses in endless cycles.
In a way, it resembled stars scattering across the sky.
It was as though the moon blazed with light before fading into darkness.
Stars and moon in broad daylight seemed absurd, yet that was precisely what my eyes beheld.
‘Remarkable.’
This was my thought as I witnessed the sparring match between Cheon Euijin and Do-hyeong.
‘Formidable indeed.’
There was no need to elaborate on Cheon Euijin, the foremost master of the Seven Clans. His brilliance had been overshadowed at the Yongbong Gathering due to his encounter with that Young Master, but—
In truth, he was a genius among geniuses. Even Yoo Cheon-gil acknowledged this.
‘…And yet that man.’
The one who was effortlessly parrying Cheon Euijin’s strikes.
‘When did he become this strong?’
I was astonished by Do-hyeong’s meteoric rise.
The delicate and beautiful swordplay inherent to Cheon Euijin.
Though it appeared soft, the weight and sharpness within it could not be ignored.
It was a technique woven with false openings and meticulous calculations so intricate it was dizzying to observe.
‘He’s blocking it with ease.’
Do-hyeong was parrying Cheon Euijin’s strikes without difficulty.
Or should I say with ease? It certainly appeared that way.
‘But he’s no pushover either.’
Do-hyeong wielded an equally sharp blade.
If there was a difference from Cheon Euijin—
‘It’s like a wild stallion.’
Where Cheon Euijin employed delicate, calculated swordplay—
Do-hyeong relied on his instincts, wielding his blade with the ferocity of a beast.
They were completely opposite approaches to the sword.
‘How fascinating.’
How could two practitioners wielding the same blade be so different?
I had witnessed martial arts from other sects and noble houses, but never quite like this.
‘Is this the Cheonwol Sect’s characteristic?’
The ability to be so different while using the same sword path and the same energy.
I concluded this must be the Cheonwol Sect’s defining trait.
Clang!
Sparks scatter. The fierce sparring continues unabated.
“…Huh.”
“This can’t be.”
The other disciples of the Cheonwol Sect watching this reacted with intensity.
“He’s matching Wol Muhui—”
“…I heard he even obtained a new epithet this time, but I never expected him to grow this strong.”
“They call him the Wol Cheong Gi Sword, but compared to a few years ago, his growth is almost excessive.”
Wol Cheong Gi Sword. It was the epithet Do-hyeong had earned after making a remarkable showing at the Dragon Phoenix Assembly.
To see such Do-hyeong clashing so easily with Cheonhye-in, one of the Seven Swords, everyone seemed astonished.
‘…Hmm.’
While watching that match, my gaze remained fixed on Do-hyeong. Though the sword dance of both was extraordinary.
‘…What is this.’
There was something odd about it.
‘Why is it reacting like that.’
Do-hyeong’s body.
More specifically, the light circling around him.
I could see the Guardian Spirit responding. Particularly with an intensity I had never witnessed before.
Had it ever vibrated like this? I have no memory of it. Even when I faced a crisis in the Four Heavens, the Guardian Spirit never reacted with such fervor.
‘What’s the difference?’
It had been like that from the moment the match began.
From the moment Do-hyeong started the match with Cheonhye-in. From then on, his Guardian Spirit reacted that way. And it stole my attention.
In that instant.
Screeeech–!!!
Do-hyeong bores in as if grinding down Cheonhye-in’s blade. Between the bursting sparks, Do-hyeong’s eyes gleam.
Thud. The supporting foot pivots slightly. His waist rotates along with the rotational force.
Wolrang? No. The posture is Wolrang, but it’s slightly different from that.
‘What is this.’
A thin crescent moon juts out and bursts with radiance.
Boom-!
“…!!”
Cheonhye-in, grasping the situation, blocks it with her blade’s flat.
Kuuung-!!!
The impact erupts and her body flies across the arena floor.
Cheonhye-in, losing her balance, momentarily panics.
“Kuk.”
She scrapes the ground with her sword tip, slowing her momentum.
Barely managing to steady herself, Do-hyeong was already closing in on Cheonhye-in.
“Hup.”
With a shout, he launches into a barrage of consecutive strikes.
Clang-! Clang clang-!!
Heavy sounds burst in all directions. Scorching heat accumulates densely.
“…Elder Brother has become quite strong.”
Cheon Euijin, watching the match, speaks softly.
“Indeed.”
I agreed. Do-hyeong had grown far stronger than I had known.
How could that be possible?
‘…No, there’s no reason to be surprised.’
I changed my perspective. What was there to be shocked about?
‘I’ve seen what my senior has been doing.’
That man had to grow stronger.
I could tell because I’d witnessed his efforts firsthand.
‘He’s never woken up later than me.’
Recently I might have been rising earlier, but he always woke at dawn.
Rising at dawn, sleeping late into the night.
His schedule was such that I wondered when he ever slept.
Most of it was cultivation.
Eating, training, sleeping.
These three things were Do-hyeong’s entire existence.
‘And it’s not as if he lacked talent either.’
The fact that he’d already opened the Wol-an at his age and entered Sowoldae spoke volumes—Do-hyeong’s talent was extraordinary.
‘Even Yoo Cheon-gil acknowledged it.’
Talent comparable to, or equal to, the seventh rank. Do-hyeong’s abilities were worth exactly that much.
So then.
‘It’s not strange that he’s reached this level.’
Clang—!!!!
With a sharp metallic ring, Cheonhye-in’s blade surged upward once more.
The upper body was exposed.
Seeing this, Do-hyeong quickly drew his sword downward.
Whoooosh—!!
“Hah!”
“Hup!”
Blood sprayed. Everyone gasped at the sight.
Was it a fatal wound? No, it wasn’t.
Cheonhye-in twisted his upper body mid-strike to evade the blade.
Swish.
Slice—!
In the moment of rotation, he swung his sword and carved a similar wound across Do-hyeong’s body.
The distance between them widened.
Drip. Drip.
Blood trickled from both their martial robes.
In the brief pause as the intensity subsided, Cheonhye-in wiped the sweat from his hair and asked.
“You’re strong.”
“…”
“Truly strong.”
It was a tone of acknowledgment.
“I didn’t realize you’d changed this much. It’s impressive.”
“Thank you.”
Do-hyeong nodded silently at the compliment.
Whish.
He flicked the blade once lightly. No blood clung to it.
“But you know.”
Grip.
Cheonhye-in grasped her sword firmly as she asked.
“What is that sword?”
“….”
“It looks like a Cheonwol Sect blade, but something feels different about it.”
She’d noticed it too. The same sense of incongruity I felt.
“You didn’t modify it yourself. Could it be… no, like Bang Disciple, did the Sword Saint bestow it upon you?”
‘That man?’
The way she referred to him bothered me slightly, but I let it pass.
“No.”
It wasn’t the Sword Saint’s blade. It wouldn’t be.
‘The feeling is different from that old man’s sword.’
Crude as the expression was, the sensation felt distinct to me.
“…Then. That sword is.”
Just as Cheonhye-in was about to ask in bewilderment.
[Continue.]
“…!”
“…”
A heavy voice pressed down upon the martial arena.
It was Wol Seon-geom. He’d cut off the conversation with a warning.
[This isn’t the place for idle chatter, is it?]
At his calm demeanor with chin resting on his hand, the spectators froze.
‘…Ugh.’
Goosebumps rose on my back. Just hearing his voice did that.
“….”
It seemed he’d deliberately cut off the conversation.
‘What could it be.’
Was there something about Do-hyeong’s sword? I suddenly grew curious, but.
Clang.
Do-hyeong grasped his sword again, as if to comply with Wol Seon-geom’s words.
At that, Cheonhye-in raised her blade as well.
The match was about to resume.
우우우우우웅—!!!
‘Hm?’
Do-hyeong’s Guardian Spirit began trembling more violently than before.
What is this?
Why is it acting like that?
It suddenly vibrated so frantically that I sensed something was amiss.
In that instant.
“….”
“…Hm?”
Cheon Euijin’s eyes narrowed at Do-hyeong’s actions.
Do-hyeong had suddenly lowered his sword.
“What are you….”
“I have lost.”
“What?”
Cheon Euijin’s eyes widened at Do-hyeong’s words.
“What did you just say?”
She asked again as if she had misheard.
“This duel. I have lost.”
Do-hyeong’s answer remained the same, and in that moment, the surroundings froze instantly.
Then.
“What kind of insane nonsense is that.”
Cheon Euijin’s voice erupted harshly.
It was the moment her mask shattered completely.

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