The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 563
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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 563
Gyemun spoke.
The Celestial Demon spoke.
The greatest symbol of becoming the Celestial Demon ultimately stems from the power the Celestial Demon wields—the Celestial Demon Divine Art.
Without it, one cannot ascend to the position of Celestial Demon, no matter how much else one possesses, be it the Cheonsal Sect or anything beyond.
The Celestial Demon Divine Art is directly tied to the Celestial Demon’s very identity.
And that is precisely why Gyemun was shocked upon seeing me.
In such circumstances—
‘That bastard is using it?’
The technique the Heavenly Sword was employing bore a striking resemblance to the Celestial Demon Divine Art.
[Hahahaha.]
The Celestial Demon laughs upon witnessing this.
[How amusing. Such audacity.]
But it was not born of amusement. Fury resonated in the Celestial Demon’s voice. This was grave. Already terrifying to provoke, yet now far more so.
The voice seethes with such intensity. Normally a cold being, yet the Celestial Demon seemed considerably enraged by that man’s actions.
But then—
[Tear him apart.]
‘Pardon?’
More furious than I anticipated.
This is extraordinary. Tear him apart? The words are far too violent.
‘…That seems rather excessive, doesn’t it?’
[No. Tear him apart. Why show mercy to one who commits such transgressions.]
‘No, it’s not about mercy.’
Simply put, humans aren’t meant to be torn apart.
Setting aside the matter of tearing for now, I understand this one is thoroughly enraged.
‘I merely found it rather curious.’
So the Celestial Demon Divine Art can be mimicked.
I was simply intrigued by that aspect. Yet this one seems considerably furious.
The fury is enough to startle even me, so what more need be said.
Is it because the symbol was touched? Or does it carry another meaning? I couldn’t discern that far.
In any case—
“How curious…What martial art is that?”
I could not pretend to recognize that technique, so I had to feign ignorance as much as possible.
After all—
‘It’s not truly the Celestial Demon Divine Art.’
At least by my understanding.
Based on what the Celestial Demon taught me, that cannot be the Celestial Demon Divine Art. The Celestial Demon showed me, and I felt it myself, so I know better.
‘The vital essence lacks spiritual energy.’
The Celestial Demon Divine Art is a fusion of spiritual energy and demonic energy. Through that process, it constructs its form based on the meditation technique’s unique composition.
It was as though one had draped oneself in shadow, or grasped darkness within one’s palm.
I had donned the Night. If I were to describe it, that’s precisely what it was.
From that position, what that creature had wrapped around itself was—
‘A counterfeit.’
A power somewhat distant from the genuine article. Because of that, I could have remained unimpressed, but even this imitation displeased the Celestial Demon.
Did mimicry displease him? He was regarding me with puzzlement.
[To mimic in such a crude manner. How pathetic and contemptible.]
‘I see.’
If you’re going to mimic, do it properly. His displeasure stemmed from failing even at that.
‘Whatever.’
Whether the Celestial Demon was pleased or displeased mattered little to me.
Screech—!
I seized the sword. Judging by the eerie aura, it was far from weak.
‘Let’s see.’
I’d heard to tear it apart, but I couldn’t manage that.
‘At least do this properly.’
I felt inclined to try.
Whoosh—! I cast Wol Cheon once more.
I drove forward without hesitation.
The Heavenly Sword moved. The Night wrapped around my body trembled at the tips of his fingers.
The blade came flying. And yet—
‘Ha.’
I was taken aback.
Crash—!!! I raised my sword to block it. It wasn’t a matter of speed.
‘It’s heavy.’
The scope and magnitude. And the depth.
The quantity of inner energy infused into such a simple motion was staggering.
Boom—!
Pushed back by the impact, I was sent flying backward. An unexpected destructive force.
I barely planted my feet on the ground. I steadied my breathing.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
Wind blew. It was not the sound of my breath.
As I looked up, the Heavenly Sword drew near. Darkness. His body was swelling progressively.
This was—
‘…A giant?’
His form had taken on the semblance of a giant. An alien sensation emanated from his otherwise simple appearance.
Both his speed and strength had accelerated further. Seeing him approach, I channeled force into my blade.
I entered the Realm of Emptiness directly.
Sword and Spirit as One.
I stepped into that space.
Crash—!!!
The Heavenly Sword’s blade shattered the ground. I was not there. One step. Just one step forward, and I closed the distance.
The Heavenly Sword’s speed remained formidable. Had he activated Divine Sword Unity? He approached that realm, but.
‘No.’
This was simply speed. His manifestation of that power had dramatically elevated his physical capabilities.
The effect was as if.
‘He used Wol Cheon?’
Wol Cheon induces entry into an artificial Realm of Emptiness, and as a result, the body’s abilities contain my wager.
It enters a more efficient form. This made it easy to continue Divine Sword Unity.
That was the appearance of this bastard.
‘Are Wol Cheon and Celestial Demon Divine Art similar?’
[That cannot be.]
The Celestial Demon denied it.
[That is merely a shell mimicking the surface.]
‘…I suppose it does appear that way.’
There was nothing to be surprised about. Of course it would be so. The Celestial Demon Divine Art I had witnessed—precisely the sword I had wielded myself—was not like that.
That strike from back then.
The downward slash the Celestial Demon showed me contained the essence of no-form. In comparison, this was close to counterfeit.
Screeeech—! The blades clashed. I moved along the sword’s edge. The Heavenly Sword kept pace with my speed.
Even as I maintained Divine Sword Unity.
‘I cannot hold it for more than a few seconds.’
Divine Sword Unity is incomplete. Because I had not fully entered that realm, I was limited to wielding merely one strike.
Now I could manage two or three exchanges at best. I had to use that.
Kyeeing! Power surged into my lower dantian. I surged forward.
I thrust my blade.
Gwangwol Seomgyeong blazed with light.
Clang—!
His sword’s resonance shattered.
Eyes darkened more intensely appeared. Not the crimson gaze reddened by the Cheonsal Sect.
Half-measure. That was the value of his power.
Then how far could half-measure endure? I poured in my strength.
Divine Sword Unity would hold for approximately one more strike.
I had to channel all my power into that.
Shwiiing—!!! I withdrew my blade slightly. In the moment it rebounded, his stance was already slightly compromised.
Yet he would recover and return swiftly nonetheless.
I aimed for this moment.
The axis of rotation.
The placement of my feet.
The angle and force of my waist.
Synchronizing all three rhythms perfectly. I swung my blade at the mental threshold where Divine Sword Unity remained intact.
Wolrang.
A different offensive pattern erupted from me—one unlike the crescent moon strikes I had unleashed until now.
Shiiiiieeeek—!!!
That was when it happened.
Whoooosh!
‘What?’
Suddenly, something enveloped my blade’s aura. This was—
‘Karmic fire?’
The flame of spiritual energy.
It had engulfed my sword. Why all of a sudden? There was no time to wonder.
Crash—!!
My blade struck the Heavenly Sword’s weapon with a vicious sweep.
Crackle—!!
“Gack!”
The dark aura shattered. Blood dripped from the Heavenly Sword’s mouth. He tried to push himself back up, but—
“Huff.”
“….”
My blade came to rest against the Heavenly Sword’s throat.
Not a moment too late.
“…It’s over.”
“…Haha.”
He laughed.
“What a shame.”
“The shame is mine.”
I spoke with a hint of irritation.
“I told you—don’t you possess anything of your own?”
I had urged him to try something genuine instead of mere imitation, yet the Heavenly Sword never did.
Hearing my words, the Heavenly Sword shrugged his shoulders.
“…You are only the second to witness this power.”
“The second?”
I tilted my head at those words.
So there was one person before me.
“I had intended not to use it until it was fully perfected, but regrettably, it seems I’ve revealed it now.”
“Then why not simply conceal it?”
“Because this is also the second time something cannot be replicated—it is a gift I offer. I simply wished to show you. You, who perceived my talent.”
“…The second?”
I hesitated at those words. Regardless of anything else, that phrase caught my attention.
From within the fragments of the shattered Magi—
[Hmm?]
The Celestial Demon felt the same.
This was also the second time?
“This power is as such. I wanted to replicate it by any means necessary. But the limitation is clear. For some reason, I could never fully attain it.”
“…Wait….”
I scowled upon hearing those words.
What did that mean just now?
“Are you saying you’ve seen that power before and you’re attempting to replicate it?”
“Only once.”
“…No….”
I started to speak but fell silent. What he was saying meant—
He must have witnessed the Celestial Demon Divine Art and attempted to use it. But the one who showed it to him couldn’t have been the Celestial Demon himself.
‘…There’s another person who uses the Celestial Demon Divine Art?’
It meant another practitioner of the Celestial Demon Divine Art existed.
* * *
Whisper, whisper, whisper.
On a moonlit night, insects sang their leisurely chorus within the darkness.
Chirp, chirp!
Chirp, chirp!
A harmonious sound. Merely the voice of night itself. Rather than noise, it was a sound that soothed the soul—
“Bothersome.”
An Old Man standing alone in a solitary residence within the forest muttered.
With a single word, the forest fell silent.
Shhhhh.
The chirping of grasshoppers and the subtle calls of birds—all ceased at once.
Finally finding the silence he desired, the Old Man closed his eyes in contentment.
Had he at last reclaimed his peace? Just as the Old Man was about to rest—
Crackle.
“….”
A presence stirred within the forest.
An unwelcome one at that.
“Tsk.”
The Old Man clicked his tongue briefly and rose to his feet. It seemed sleep would not come easily tonight.
“An annoying visitor has arrived.”
He did not move much. Such minimal effort was sufficient to greet an uninvited guest.
As expected, the presence drew closer before long.
“I shall enter.”
The uninvited guest had found the Old Man’s residence.
“Did I not tell you not to come?”
The one who heard the Old Man’s cold words laughed.
The one wearing an awkward smile was the Heavenly Sword.
“Surely that is too harsh a reception for your own disciple.”
“Nonsense.”
A disciple? It was laughable.
“How could someone who picked up scraps of knowledge by chance claim to be this old man’s disciple?”
“But learning is learning, so they are a disciple, are they not, Mentor—”
The words never finished. A sharp gust swept past the Heavenly Sword’s ear.
Swish.
Strands of hair drifted down, cleanly severed.
The Old Man held no blade. What he wielded was merely a faint aura of force blooming at his fingertips.
Still, it was an eerie sword technique.
Far too vicious for one of the Jeongpa sect.
“You remain unchanged.”
“I will not entertain meaningless conversation. Leave.”
“But surely it is not meaningless? You should at least hear it.”
“…Hmm?”
At the Heavenly Sword’s words, the Old Man’s eyes opened. Light kindled in the darkness of night.
Eyes that pierced the shadows shone blue.
The Old Man’s blue eyes gleamed.
“What do you mean?”
The Heavenly Sword, meeting that gaze, spoke.
“A predecessor of Yoo Cheon-gil from the Cheongwol Gate has sought out the Demonic Sect.”
“…!”
The Old Man flinched at the words.
It was that name—Yoo Cheon-gil—that had provoked the reaction.
“Yoo Cheon-gil…?”
“Does it not intrigue you?”
The Heavenly Sword laughed.
“So they met.”
The Old Man already knew who that was. He had heard the tales.
In this vast and silent forest, many mouths existed, and so even unwanted words found their way to listening ears.
Especially that name—Yoo Cheon-gil. The Old Man’s expression hardened.
It was the name of that cursed bastard.
“Yes.”
And so he asked.
“Who won?”
The simplest, most direct question. At those words, the Heavenly Sword’s expression faltered briefly.
That silence was answer enough.
“A worthless fool.”
“Ha ha.”
A belated laugh, though already too late.
Behind that awkward expression, the Old Man spoke.
“Close the door.”
“…Yes? How so?”
“I cannot abide losing to that bastard’s disciple. Even if you are not my own student.”
A disciple of a disciple, no less.
And worse still—the disciple of that cursed man who had imprisoned me on this mountain and sealed me away.
“I shall teach you a few things.”
Accept your mentor’s karmic debt with grace.
The Old Man spoke with a bitter laugh.
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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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