The World's Greatest is Dead

I stepped out of the waiting room. There wasn’t any reason to keep sitting in there, and even if I went out, it wouldn’t really be a problem.

If there was one problem—

‘That gaze is hot.’

A man standing around the tournament stage, leaning against the wall. The Commander of the Guards from the Alliance, who kept trailing me under the pretext of “escort,” was the problem if he was anything.

‘...Do you even call that monitoring?’

Do you call it monitoring when he’s just staring straight at you?

I mean, it was monitoring, but it was weird as hell.

‘Isn’t he busy?’

If this was now, it should be peak busy season.

Not just busy—insanely busy.

Because it wasn’t just anything.

‘It’s a Demon Cult problem.’

A bloodline of the Namgung Clan, the Little Azure Sword Namgung Seong, might be connected to # Nоvеlight # the Demon Cult.

And because of that, the Namgung Clan itself might end up under investigation.

‘And in the middle of that, the Commander of the Guards is monitoring me?’

Not an easy choice. Well, sure.

‘If we’re talking Demon Cult business, I’m Demon Cult business too.’

If you wanted to nitpick, I was, so I could understand why he was acting like that.

‘Mm....’

Still, it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable.

I forced myself to ignore the Commander of the Guards’ stare and kept my eyes on the stage instead—

“Annoying, isn’t it.”

Someone stood next to me and spoke. I looked over. It was Black-Grand Saber.

“Because that idiot caused a mess, my bet got tangled up. I was supposed to take that bastard’s sword.”

“...A bet? Ah.”

I remembered what he meant. He was talking about the bet Thunder Dragon and Black-Grand Saber made.

This lunatic. He’d placed a bet not even on his own match, but on my match.

‘If I win, Thunder Dragon hands over his cherished weapon.’

And if Thunder Dragon wins, Black-Grand Saber hands over his cherished weapon to Thunder Dragon.

‘Is he actually out of his mind?’

It was ridiculous. Thunder Dragon, fine, whatever.

‘But that bastard—shouldn’t he be the one who can’t do that?’

The heir of the Peng Clan. Or the one who would become the heir.

In other words, a man who would rise to Clan Head. And he hung a saber meant to be handed down only to someone who would become Clan Head, on a match that wasn’t even his.

There wasn’t a bigger lunatic than this.

“I should’ve taken that bastard’s sword and played with it. Tsk.”

“...”

Black-Grand Saber looked genuinely upset that he wouldn’t get to take Thunder Dragon’s sword.

Like that sword was the problem right now.

“I could’ve flattened Thunder Dragon’s nose. What a waste. Isn’t it?”

“...Yeah. Sure.”

He’s asking me to sympathize. Like hell.

“Oh, right. No problems with your match?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. That meddling you did.”

“Meddling?”

What? I thought hard, then one thing popped up.

“...You mean Cheon Eujin’s match?”

“Yeah. That.”

Cheon Eujin and Baek Cheonin. What happened at the end.

Baek Cheonin swung his blade straight for Cheon Eujin’s neck, and I stopped it.

The problem back then was that I interfered in someone else’s match.

If things went wrong, it could’ve become a problem big enough that I couldn’t fight anymore, but—

“It got resolved.”

It was what I heard this morning.

They said the upper ranks decided it was fine to proceed.

‘As expected.’

I hadn’t been worried. The Divine Spear had bothered to call me in, too.

And since the pretext wasn’t that bad, I figured the Martial Alliance upper ranks would want to smooth it over.

“Yeah? Good. Would’ve been a shame if it went sideways.”

Black-Grand Saber laughed like he was relieved. Even with the corners of his mouth lifting, it still looked rough.

“That bet with that bastard is one thing, but this matters more to me.”

“...”

“Doesn’t it.”

I swallowed the sigh that tried to come out.

Damn Murong Yeongsun.

‘Doing pointless shit.’

Why did she light a fire in that mountain of a man’s heart. He was already hot—now he was basically—

‘Not much different from lava.’

Battle aura turned into lava. That was what it looked like, plain as day.

“...Yeah.”

I answered vaguely and tried to move on.

Black-Grand Saber looked like he was about to talk again—

WAAAAAA.

The roar of cheers hit, so I looked to the stage first.

They were climbing up. Sword Phoenix Yuyeon and Baek Cheonin.

That was who the cheers were for.

—Sword Phoenix! Sword Phoenix!

Most of it was people calling Sword Phoenix. Even hearing all that, Yuyeon’s face didn’t change.

A literal blank face.

A face that gave you no clue what she was thinking.

And—

‘He’s smiling.’

Baek Cheonin, on the other hand, had a smile tucked into his expression.

That signature, friendly-looking face. To me, it was creepy as hell.

“That guy.”

Black-Grand Saber spoke as he watched.

“Something about him pisses me off.”

“...!”

At that, my eyes widened a little.

‘Did he feel something?’

Black-Grand Saber, with instincts everyone said were insane, looked at Baek Cheonin and said he felt disgusted. I couldn’t help looking startled.

‘They weren’t kidding about his instincts.’

What was he seeing from over there? Without meaning to, I found myself impressed.

‘They said he was incredible, and it was real.’

This bastard really was the real deal.

While that thought ran—

“Who do you think wins?”

He threw a question at me.

“...No idea.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’ve never really imagined it.”

“No. You don’t even need to imagine it.”

Black-Grand Saber spoke like he was certain.

“No matter what that bastard is, Sword Phoenix wins.”

“...”

That certainty was absurdly clear. Where the hell did it come from?

While that question rose in my head—

[Heh heh.]

Yoo Cheongil laughed in the air.

Was that laughter agreement?

Or—

‘Was it a laugh because he expected something different?’

I couldn’t tell that far.

*****

CLINK.

On the stage, Baek Cheonin lifted his hand to his waist.

He gripped the handle of the tied-up sword and scanned the surroundings.

Without wiping away his smile, he read every gaze turned toward him, one by one.

And he listened to the sounds aimed at him, too.

—Will Miracle Sword be able to win again this time?

Doubt.

—Maybe. Who knows if a miracle will happen twice in a row?

Expectation.

—No. If miracles keep happening, that’s just skill. Who knows if Miracle Sword has been hiding his strength?

Doubt again.

Inside the flood of voices, Baek Cheonin smoothed his mouth.

‘Smile.’

I can’t let the smile drop.

The irritation swelling up inside me feels like it’ll ruin my expression any second.

He kept smiling while forcing it down.

‘Just a little more.’

If I endure just a little longer, I’ll be able to clear out all those disgusting bastards.

But—

‘How much longer?’

He didn’t know how much of that “little” was left, and that made him feel stifled.

‘Where the hell is the key?’

What he needed to do, and what he needed to find—

none of it moved as easily as he wanted.

The Shadow Spirit said it could be felt in Henan, and yet—

‘Where?’

He still hadn’t even found it.

At this rate, he’d have to carry out the job without finding the key.

‘Those Heaven-Breaking Palace bastards will start moving soon, too.’

He sent word through Sangyeon, so it would start before long.

The Reformation.

He had to find the key before that happened.

‘Tsk.’

To think it still wasn’t found. No way the Shadow Spirit was lacking power, right?

‘No.’

It was an existence even the Heavenly Demon, the god and leader of the Demon Cult, couldn’t handle easily.

Its words couldn’t be wrong.

Then it meant only one thing—he just hadn’t found it yet.

‘I need to focus on the work more.’

Pointless things kept repeating, and his focus on the work had thinned.

He knew what the important thing was, so now was the time to be decisive.

‘The fire is lit.’

He used Namgung Clan trash to spark the flame, so now he only had to wait for the timing and carry out the job.

‘If it were normal, it would’ve been easier.’

His eyes rolled. Then he felt blue eyes looking this way.

‘Because of that bastard.’

Little Sword Saint.

A disgusting existence who blocked the Heavenly Demon’s faith and the Demon Cult’s Opening.

The Sword Saint’s successor.

A few things had gotten tangled because that bastard kept bothering him.

And on top of that—

‘Something feels off.’

When he looked into those blue eyes, he kept feeling an unpleasant snag.

‘Does he know something?’

Just like he could feel something from the Little Sword Saint—

was the Little Sword Saint feeling something from him, too?

That suspicion rose.

‘He isn’t an easy bastard.’

He couldn’t tell what the Little Sword Saint was thinking. A calm face with annoyance painted on it.

The same reaction no matter who spoke to him or what kind of attitude they showed him.

And—

‘For an Orthodox man...’

The atmosphere he gave off was far from Orthodox.

Where the hell did this bastard come from?

‘Even when I looked at the information, nothing stood out.’

Where did he come from?

The Bang Clan of Liaoning, and the bastard himself—there wasn’t anything strange about them.

‘This is weird.’

No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense, but—

‘Fine.’

None of it mattered.

Whatever he was—

‘He’ll get handled in Henan too.’

Just one more speck of dust that would burn away in the blaze of the Opening.

While he was thinking that—

“Fighters, prepare.”

At the referee’s words, Baek Cheonin looked at his opponent again.

A beautiful woman was already there, sword drawn and lowered.

‘Sword Phoenix Yuyeon.’

A junior of Mount Hua Sect, and the one called the current greatest of the junior generation.

In other words—

‘A monster.’

A woman called a monster by the entire junior generation.

When he heard that, Baek Cheonin laughed.

‘Arrogant.’

It was an absurdly arrogant title.

And it didn’t match that delicate, weak-looking impression at all.

Baek Cheonin had already watched Sword Phoenix’s matches a few times.

She was strong, sure, but—

‘Not to the point she should be called that.’

Even if she looked like she was on a different level, she was still the junior generation.

He didn’t see her as someone who deserved to be called a monster.

‘Is this that Orthodox-style hype? Disgusting.’

They said she was a candidate for the strongest under heaven.

It made him think Mount Hua Sect had worked something out with the Martial Alliance and pulled some strings.

That had to be it.

Because the Orthodox factions he knew were more than capable of doing that.

‘So.’

You’re no different either.

Baek Cheonin kept his tension, but killed his anticipation.

“Shaanxi Baek Clan’s Baek Cheonin. Mount Hua Sect’s Yuyeon.”

He put strength into himself.

‘This time, I need to focus a little more.’

Like when he faced Cheon Hyein.

But different from when it was Cheon Eujin.

He added more power to what he’d stacked and deceived the eye.

He had to make up for the mistake he made with Cheon Eujin.

With that thought, he gathered his breathing through his whole body.

“Match.”

And then—

“Begin.”

Just as Baek Cheonin was about to respond to Yuyeon’s movement—

THUD—!

‘Huh?’

His view changed.

‘What?’

The gaze that had been looking straight ahead was, at some point, looking at the sky.

His recognition lagged.

Only after a moment passed did Baek Cheonin realize his body was floating up into the air—

and not long after he realized that—

BANG—!

“Ghk!?”

A foot crushed down into his abdomen and slammed his body into the ground.

CRUNCH—!!

“Guhhk!”

The stage floor shattered, fragments spraying up.

Fragments rising, the sun blinding his eyes.

And—

those pretty black eyes looking down at him.

After confirming them, Baek Cheonin clenched his teeth.

‘Something.’

Something felt wrong.