The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 81

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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 081
The room was suffused with oppressive heat.
Breathing remained difficult, and the space within Cheogang felt scorching.
Within it, I gazed quietly at the woman before me.
‘…Why is she like that?’
And with such evident bewilderment in her eyes, no less.
Before me stood Dang Yeeran, rigid and unyielding as though she had malfunctioned.
Truly frozen like stone.
One might think time itself had stopped, yet the beads of perspiration trickling down her face betrayed otherwise.
Even her pupils trembled visibly.
This meant she was simply frozen in place….
‘…Why so suddenly?’
We were conversing smoothly just moments ago, so why this abrupt change?
It was puzzling.
Simultaneously, I felt a pang of regret.
‘It seems she has no intention of continuing.’
That sound from moments before, striking downward.
I had wanted to hear more of it.
Since it appeared I could hear no more, that was what I regretted.
‘…It had been so long.’
A sound that resonated directly within the soul.
With spirit infused into every movement, sounds that stirred the depths of one’s being.
Ordinarily, only master craftsmen who repeated the same task for decades would produce such sounds.
Yet Dang Yeeran’s movements carried that resonance unmistakably.
Moreover.
‘It was stronger than anyone else’s in Cheogang.’
Among the countless master artisans, hers was distinctly the most powerful.
It was so intense that I found myself drawn to it without conscious thought.
That such a formidable resonance emanated from this delicate woman.
I found it utterly fascinating.
‘In my past life too, there were those who possessed such qualities.’
Those whose every gesture and movement was infused with conviction.
Many spoke of them as unparalleled geniuses, calling them once-in-a-generation talents.
Yet my grandmother would say it was not talent at all.
‘It is spirit dwelling within the soul.’
That is what she would say.
Whether one’s actions carried spirit or not.
If that was the difference between talent and its absence, then she was right.
‘Regardless, that is not what matters.’
Whether talent or spirit, those capable of such things inevitably ascend to great heights.
At least, that was true of everyone I’d encountered.
This situation was no different.
That’s why I’d casually mentioned wanting a sword forged.
‘Perhaps it wasn’t rude of me…?’
Maybe it was.
Is that why she’s frozen like that?
If so, I should have taken back my words right then.
“No, if you’d rather not, you don’t have to-”
I tried to add something, though it was already too late.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, Dang Yeeran rushed over and seized my wrist.
“I-I’ll do it. I’ll definitely do it.”
“Huh…?”
“I’ll forge a sword for you, Young Master, no matter what it takes.”
“Oh, no. You don’t need to go to such lengths… just something adequate… would be fine…”
I’d spoken so casually, yet why was she reacting so intensely?
The fervor burning in her eyes was almost frightening.
“I… I will absolutely succeed.”
“…Yes, yes… then I’ll rely on you.”
Whenever that might be.
If possible, I’d be grateful to receive one.
That was the intent behind my words…
But I couldn’t have known then what ripples this casual remark would create later.
At that moment, I was oblivious.

* * *
I emerged from Cheogang. The wind outside greeted me, and only then could I breathe freely.
Any longer in there and I truly would have lost consciousness.
“Phew…”
I stepped out and wiped the sweat from my face. A cloth was in my hand—something Dang Yeeran had pressed into my grip inside.
She’d handed me her spare towel, telling me to wipe myself clean outside.
There was no reason to refuse, so I took it obediently.
‘Should I return it later?’
Even if not directly, I suppose I should give it back eventually.
Looking at the embroidery, it didn’t seem like an ordinary towel.
‘…Right. A bloodline member of the Dang Clan wouldn’t use just anything.’
This towel likely commanded a considerable price.
So why not just keep it and sell it instead? The thought had brushed past my mind unbidden.
Even I could see how petty that was.
‘…It’s all because I’ve lived without anything.’
Children from ruined families tend to be that way.
Especially when the father figure and the older brother were both complete disasters.
Wasn’t this shameful thinking itself their fault?
I tried to comfort myself by subtly blaming others.
“…Hmm…”
But it didn’t make me feel any better.
So I finished wiping away the sweat instead.
What was peculiar was that the towel carried a fresh fragrance—some kind of scent had been applied to it.
Had the fragrance persisted even in that intense heat?
That struck me as quite remarkable.
‘Hmm.’
So I examined the towel quietly, and the owner’s face came to mind.
Dang Yeeran, who had carefully handed me the towel at the end.
‘…Could it really be true?’
Could she truly be stronger than Dok-ryong, the Seventh Heavenly Master?
Yoo Cheon-gil’s words, spoken almost in passing, continued to circle through my mind.
‘If she is stronger, then why?’
Why did she remain silent despite Dok-ryong’s utter contempt?
‘Is it simply because her nature is kind?’
She certainly appeared kind.
Unusually innocent for a bloodline member of a prestigious clan.
Though not all of the Dang Clan seemed that way.
‘Only Dang Yeeran seems somewhat different.’
She possessed a uniqueness and distinctiveness all her own.
Perhaps that was why she could pour such passion into her work as a master craftsman.
‘If Dok-ryong possesses martial prowess comparable to his, then….’
Wouldn’t he be the perfect man?
The moment that thought crossed my mind, Dang Yeeran’s words naturally surfaced.
‘Will you marry me?’
Those words she had spoken out of the blue, asking me to marry her.
Back then, it seemed mad, and I wanted to avoid it.
‘…Should I?’
Absurdly, I found myself contemplating it.
I was drawn to her, that much was true.
‘Her background is simply too exceptional.’
The Five Great Families, receiving the highest regard among all prestigious clans.
Among them, if we speak of wealth, the Dang Clan rivals the Moyong of Yeolyeong.
Dang Yeeran herself already demonstrates such exceptional talent that she pours her soul into her craft work, and on top of that, she possesses martial prowess as well.
‘If I marry Dang Yeeran, my future would unfold brilliantly before me.’
What of becoming a son-in-law?
Looking at my future life, it was undeniably an excellent prospect.
“…Tsk.”
I quickly dismissed such thoughts.
It was a foolish fantasy. Besides….
‘If I wanted to do such a thing, I should have done it long ago.’
There were other opportunities.
I simply chose not to take them.
“Sigh.”
Rather than entertain such pointless thoughts, I wiped away my sweat.
So much sweat was pouring out. The sweat itself was one thing, but being trapped in this heat was exhausting.
‘…Really, I should learn the shameless method of releasing heat through my meridians.’
The technique of channeling heat through one’s qi.
It seemed I needed to master it somehow.
I don’t know when I might visit a place like Cheogang again, but knowing it would still be beneficial, wouldn’t it?
The problem is.
‘The old man who’s supposed to teach me keeps disappearing somewhere.’
The old man known in society as my master came to Sichuan only to vanish constantly, which frustrated me to no end.
Recently, I had been conducting most of my training alone.
Especially on nights when few people were around, I would practice swordplay by myself.
Training my swordsmanship under moonlight wasn’t bad.
‘Still, it seems this life also lacks any particular talent.’
I felt it every time I swung my blade.
‘My sword has no soul.’
Unlike the movements Dang Yeeran had just displayed, I couldn’t feel that kind of soul-infused motion.
Beyond that.
‘I have no idea what I’m supposed to do or how to do it.’
Where should I even begin?
I couldn’t figure it out.
The Old Man had never really taught me anything about the sword itself, so it was only natural that I didn’t know what to do, wasn’t it?
‘If you’re going to teach me, at least teach me properly.’
He kept telling me to practice only the fundamentals, yet never taught me any actual swordsmanship.
All I’d learned were the first and second forms of the Cheonwol Sword Dance.
Even that was more me memorizing Yoo Cheon-gil’s movements than actually being taught.
‘…What does he want from me?’
He acts like he’s about to teach me something, then never actually does.
I have no idea what he expects from me.
“Well.”
When did I ever understand that old man’s actions anyway?
Trying to understand the Demon’s intentions was strange in itself.
Which is why I’m even more confused.
‘…How much longer do I have to keep doing this?’
How much longer will I have to live like this?
I just wanted to live a peaceful life, but I kept getting pulled deeper into the storm.
And the frightening part is.
‘…My senses are growing dull.’
The feeling that I was being pulled into the storm was gradually fading away.
Not only did I come to Sichuan and have a conversation with Dokuou right away.
Even after hearing the absurd talk about Dokjon’s secret or whatever, I was moving about as if nothing was wrong.
‘Am I actually going insane?’
Unless I was truly mad, there was no way this should be happening.
Traveling with Yoo Cheon-gil seemed to have slightly warped my mind.
‘That damned old man.’
He acted as though no matter what happened, it was nothing.
He responded to everything as if there was a reason behind it.
He moved as if any crisis that arose could be handled lightly.
Watching him made even these situations feel like they were nothing at all.
‘…This is absurd.’
I used to be the type who would tap a stone bridge ten times before crossing it.
I could feel myself gradually becoming strange.
“…Should I run away quickly?”
Wouldn’t it be better to escape before something worse happens?
I was genuinely considering it.
“Hmm.”
If I looked for a way to escape, it probably wouldn’t be completely impossible.
Should I actually try to find one instead of continuing like this?
‘It’s better than not preparing for anything at all.’
Unless the Old Man decided to tell me what he was planning, I couldn’t simply stand idle.
If things went wrong, I’d need to be ready to act.
Reminding myself of this, I took another step forward.
사아아아아아아—-…….
Suddenly, a chill ran through my body.
“….”
Even as I felt it, I didn’t let it show.
I continued walking, keeping my expression and movements unchanged.
I knew better than anyone that I couldn’t reveal any difference in my demeanor.
Sigh.
A breath escaped from within me.
‘…What’s going on now.’
The thought came as I looked at something standing at the entrance to the forest path.
A rather small frame with eyes that seemed utterly furious.
Thick white hair and a gaunt, wrinkled face.
At first glance, he was just an old man with a foul temperament.
But I knew who this old man was.
‘Dokjon.’
The former master of the Dang Clan and a hero who distinguished himself during the Demon Calamity War, just like the Sword Saint.
There were legends that demons would melt away with a single gesture from him, and his mastery of poison techniques had reached the heavens themselves.
‘He died from old age several years ago.’
And now.
‘He’s a bound ghost.’
For some reason, he remained tethered to the Dang Clan, refusing to ascend to enlightenment.
‘…He really does look like he has a terrible temperament.’
People said Dok-ryong was the reincarnation of Dokjon.
I couldn’t speak to his talent, but his appearance certainly resembled him.
Even Yoo Cheon-gil acknowledged this.
If Dok-ryong aged, he would probably look exactly like this.
‘Ugh, how terrifying.’
I had no intention of looking at him directly, but if he were alive, I doubt I could have even met his gaze.
The fortunate thing was.
‘At least he’s better than Yoo Cheon-gil.’
Unlike Yoo Cheon-gil, Dokjon was easier to recognize as a ghost.
At least his legs were translucent.
‘That old man is so vivid it’s absurd. Still, I suppose even he deserves that much consideration.’
Dokjon was fairly vivid as well, but below his ankles, he appeared somewhat transparent.
In comparison, Yoo Cheon-gil was identical to a living person except for the absence of a shadow.
‘In my previous life, reaching even that level would have been extraordinary.’
In my past life, I had scarcely encountered even a ghost of Dokjon’s caliber.
To begin with.
‘Such beings typically harbor no lingering attachments.’
Most of them had accomplished everything they wished in life, leaving them free from regret or obsession.
‘That’s precisely what makes them terrifying.’
What manner of attachment could possibly bind such an existence to the mortal realm as a ghost?
I truly did not wish to contemplate it.
‘Let’s just pass by….’
One entanglement was already more than enough.
So, the best course was to ignore it completely.
Thump, thump.
I walked slowly along the forest path.
The cold intensified with each step. I had to ignore this as well.
‘Just stay calm.’
I would pass through quietly. As long as I gave no sign, there was absolutely no way it could—
[Child of Cheonwol Gate.]
Or so I thought…?
[I know you can see me. Stop for a moment.]
“….”
Hearing those words, I felt my heart sink into the depths.

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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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