The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 495

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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 495
When I speak of my childhood, I divide it into before and after I recalled my past life.
My meeting with Muyong Youngsoon was no different.
She was someone I encountered after recalling my past life.
Though our first meeting began with the concept of a broken engagement, which could have made us bitter enemies.
Surprisingly, that’s not how it turned out.
[Can you see me?]
The first ghost I saw upon arriving in this world.
It happened to be the woman standing behind Muyong Youngsoon, which was the reason.
[Please, just help me once….]
It was the reason I meddled despite swearing I wouldn’t in this life, and the cause that made me truly resolve never to do so again.
Something I absolutely would not have done otherwise.
I had decided not to get involved no matter what happened.
[Please save my daughter….]
At that single, anguished and desperate cry, I finally moved.
Should I not have? If you ask whether I regret it, I do not.
Yes, I harbored no regrets.
Whether it was something I should have done is debatable, but looking at the results, I did not regret it.
I saved Muyong Youngsoon.
And I guided her mother to enlightenment while making a promise.
[I hope my child will be happy.]
[그러니까 부디—.]
At the words that followed, I nodded.
That I would ensure it.
Because I understood your heart, I too would ensure it.
Thus I made that promise.
‘But still.’
It seemed I was gradually reaching my limit.

* * *
I returned to Sega in the middle of the night.
It took a moment for my flushed ears and troubled mind to settle.
I deliberately ignored that and spoke to them.
“…I will be returning to Hanan. I’ve already mentioned this, but I’ll be leaving either tomorrow morning or the day after.”
“The timing is vague.”
The Eunwol Sword questioned me. He meant that if it’s morning, it should be morning—saying “or the next day” was ambiguous. I knew it. Even I could see my words were vague.
“There are a few things I need to confirm.”
What I needed to see became clear this early morning. Since I couldn’t be certain now, I had to postpone the schedule somewhat.
“Then should we just prepare in advance?”
“Yes. I’ll pass along the word, but…there’s nothing to prepare in the first place anyway.”
“That’s true enough.”
What would there be to prepare? Whether coming or going, there was nothing particular to bring. What could I possibly gather from this wretched place?
‘That settles it.’
The report was complete.
I’d requested preparations from my companions, and Chongwan would handle his part naturally.
I’d already taken care of what was necessary regarding the academy. Since I’d arranged to receive assistance from the Moyong clan, there would be no issues.
‘As for the Haowen side….’
There were concerns, but there shouldn’t be any major problems. I’d made arrangements for that.
I’d handled the other matters as well.
All that remained was to depart.
In that gap.
‘The final task.’
Something I needed to do here. Or more precisely, something I didn’t necessarily need to do here, but would be convenient to handle before leaving.

* * *
Night fell. I left the Sega and headed toward the back mountain. My destination was the altar I had constructed.
I entered the cave and surveyed the situation. Nothing had changed in particular.
I stepped before the altar and withdrew the object I had prepared in my robes.
A single yellow talisman. I held it up and brushed it several times with my hand. The blood I had drawn upon it trickled slightly.
Since I had just inscribed it, the blood had not yet dried properly.
My fingertips stung. The blood belonged to me.
I did not particularly favor using blood for such rituals.
When using the blood of beasts, the karmic weight diminished and the backlash upon me lessened, so whenever possible I used the blood of chickens or pigs despite their lower efficacy.
This time, however, I had no such option.
‘Where-‘
My own blood was necessary for the effect to manifest. I had poured everything I could into this, regardless of what karma might accumulate upon my soul.
‘Shall I see?’
I approached the altar and raised my hand. Then.
Ding-! Ding-!
The faint sound of a bell resonated through the surroundings.
This was a sound only I could hear. The spirit bell hanging from the cat’s neck transmitted its voice to me.
I closed my eyes.
I had to concentrate. I could not afford to miss this.
‘…The bell is ringing true.’
The cat with the severed limb.
The bell hanging from the Honwondo’s neck continued to sound for me. This was-
Westward.
‘It is westward.’
The direction of the bell’s sound pointed west. The distance remained unclear. It was still moving swiftly.
I tapped the altar with my fingertips.
The momentum of the spirit within my heart grew slightly stronger.
This was it. This was.
‘It will show me the way.’
The Pacheon Palace Master.
It would reveal to me where that man was.
The exact location. The distance.
There was no need to know such details. This cursed expanse of land was too vast to discern with precision.
‘It does not matter.’
I could discover it one way or another.
If the Honwondo proceeded toward that man’s destination as it was, it would be possible. However.
‘If that man is someone I know.’
There was a probability of complications arising.
I proceeded with the ritual despite knowing this. The reason was singular.
‘Then at least I will be able to discern one thing.’
I would obtain at least one of the two.
That was my objective.

* * *
Crash—!
A man tore through the forest in his movement. Honwondo, one of the Four Heavenly Kings of Patcheon Palace, now missing an arm.
He clenched his teeth and continued forward. His stamina was gradually depleting, but he paid it no mind.
He focused only on reaching his destination by any means necessary.
‘That man—’
He had to inform them about that man. He had to convey it to the Gungju by any means.
Fortunately, there was no pursuit, and he was able to proceed smoothly toward his destination.
Though the distance was still considerable, he would eventually reach it.
‘I must see the Gungju. After that.’
Inform her of this fact and that damned thing.
‘Wol-hyeop…!’
The very existence of Wol-hyeop had to be erased. That man was certainly poison to the Gungju.
In Honwondo’s mind, the sword path displayed by Bangseong-yeon, known as Wol-hyeop and the Sword Saint’s Predecessor, was vividly etched.
He could never forget it. That sword. That sword path.
‘What kind of man is he?’
It was something unreachable at that age. One could observe it, but not comprehend it.
He would have severed anything. Divine Sword Unity? It wouldn’t end with something like that.
That was—
‘Simply the heavens themselves.’
Something where discussing realms became meaningless.
A figure standing at the very edge of what a martial artist could reach.
Even among those called absolute masters, there existed hierarchy.
Not all martial artists at the same realm were equal.
Honwondo understood this better than anyone.
‘Yet that man is strange—’
He wasn’t even at the same realm, yet he could give off such an impression? Honwondo couldn’t believe it.
It was bizarre.
An incomprehensible, heterogeneous something.
‘I must inform them.’
He couldn’t leave it as is. Already an adversary to Patcheon Palace as the Sword Saint’s Predecessor.
He had to provide information now and have him dealt with.
Just as Honwondo was about to increase his speed with such resolve.
[Honwondo.]
“…!”
At a voice that came from somewhere, Honwondo’s steps halted.
[You seem to be in quite a hurry.]
The air itself transformed. At the sound of that voice, Honwondo’s breathing grew ragged.
He immediately dropped to his knees.
Thud—! A harsh sound echoed as if his knees would crack the earth itself.
Honwondo prostrated himself fully, observing proper courtesy.
“…Your…Majesty. I greet you.”
Gungju. At that word, wind came howling.
Whoooooosh—!!! A violent gust that shook the trees themselves. The rushing wind sent shivers across Honwondo’s entire body.
He dared not even lift his head. As he remained prostrate for what felt like an eternity.
[Raise your head.]
Permission was finally granted, and Honwondo lifted his stiffened head, looking upward.
“…Ah….”
There stood something composed of a dark form.
It appeared as if concentrated energy had forcibly taken on a human shape.
[Honwondo.]
“…Yes. Your Majesty.”
The Gungju of Patcheon Palace—the heavens themselves, a deity.
Honwondo had come face to face with the deity he served.
[How fares the task?]
At the question, Honwondo swallowed hard before speaking.
“My sincerest apologies. A problem arose, and I was unable to complete the task properly.”
[A task…?]
“…Geomseong’s Predecessor. Wol-hyeop interfered once again.”
[….]
At the mention of Wol-hyeop, the energy rippled.
[Wol-hyeop, you say—]
“Indeed…. He slew my subordinates and disrupted our arrangement with the Nolrimdo. Fortunately, I recovered what Your Majesty had entrusted to me…. But I failed to accomplish the greater purpose. I beseech you to punish me.”
Thud—! Honwondo struck his head forcefully against the ground. Even as he repeatedly bashed his head into the earth, his words did not cease.
“Wol-hyeop. That man is a dangerous existence. He will surely bring harm to Your Majesty, so by any means necessary, he must be dealt with….”
[Honwondo. Stop.]
Honwondo froze. At the Gungju’s command, both his words and actions ceased.
[…You recovered what was entrusted to you, then….]
The Gungju spoke thus and drew closer to Honwondo. As he approached, Honwondo’s body trembled.
[…Hmm….]
The dark energy rippled more violently, as if sensing something. More so than before.
[I see.]
Laughter tinged the voice that followed. At that sound, Honwondo should have felt chills. The Gungju was laughing.
That fact struck him like a shock.
[So that was it?]
“…Your Majesty…?”
[You’ve brought something amusing. I never expected we would exchange correspondence in such a manner—]
“…What…?”
[Since you’ve brought me something precious, Honwondo. I shall not punish you.]
“…Pardon?”
What in the world was he saying? Brought something precious? I had failed the mission and lost an arm, yet I wasn’t being punished—if anything, that seemed strange.
Moreover, even as the Gungju warned of danger, he didn’t seem the least bit concerned.
[Yes, so it was you after all.]
Tsk tsk tsk.
The Gungju laughed. In that instant.
Whoooosh—!!
“Gasp!?”
The Gungju’s energy burrowed into Honwondo’s body. The energy that seeped through his entire form penetrated all the way to his heart.
Crrrrrunch—!!!
“Aaaahhhhh!?”
Something shattered, and something within my heart was torn away.
The pain was unbearable.
“Gasp…. Wheeze.”
Honwondo eventually staggered and spat saliva. There was no physical damage to his body.
[Honwondo.]
“Gasp…. Wheeze…. Yes…. Y-Your Majesty….”
[I’m entrusting you with a mission.]
The Pacheon Palace Master did not order Honwondo to return.
[Go to Sichuan—head there.]
There.
[Bring me a fragment of the Sword Saint.]
He commanded me to retrieve the final object he needed.

* * *
“….”
At dawn, I quietly opened my eyes.
I rose from my position and ran my hand through my hair.
“Tsk.”
I clicked my tongue sharply. The bell-like ringing that had been echoing in my ears ceased.
Whoosh.
I realized the spiritual essence of the soul I had bound within myself had returned.
Moreover, an irritating, prickling discomfort permeated through it.
This could only mean one thing.
“I was right.”
I had failed to locate the main base of Patcheon Palace.
“So it was him after all.”
Now I was certain.
The Pacheon Gungju.
That man’s true identity was the one I had destroyed in my previous life.
The Heretic Master.

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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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