The World's Greatest is Dead

Henan’s hero had arrived.

That was the line setting every county on fire these past few days.

The DEMON CULT’s revival.

The emergence of an organization called HEAVEN-BREAKING PALACE.

Henan thrown into chaos by their assault—and the people who’d died in the aftershock.

And on top of all that, the fact that the Main Alliance Headquarters in Henan—praised as an impregnable fortress—had cracked.

Even that alone would’ve been enough to leave everyone reeling, and yet—

That day, the day the assault turned everything into a slaughterhouse.

After the Orthodox-Demonic War, there hadn’t been a disaster this big.

Divine Spear—the man elected Alliance Leader after Yoo Cheongil—had been knocked unconscious by the attack.

The Main Alliance Headquarters itself had been breached; if things went wrong, the Martial Alliance could be shaken to its core.

And then the news arrived that an absolute master who was supposed to be dead—Sword Demon—had appeared.

While problems kept piling up by the dozen...

Even inside that calamity, as if a flower could bloom in a fire, one figure rose.

The man currently being called a hero in Henan.

Little Sword Saint.

He was the one who’d saved the Poison King and the Tang Clan in Sichuan, erupting onto the scene like a new meteor.

He’d already been growing quietly famous as the Sword Saint Yoo Cheongil’s successor, but after what happened in Sichuan, his name spread across the entire Central Plain.

People said things.

One person would claim the Little Sword Saint was a genius on par with the Seven Prodigies.

Someone else would immediately scoff.

No—he was something you couldn’t even compare to the Seven Prodigies.

And while voices kept asking, If he’s the Sword Saint’s successor, isn’t that only natural?...

This incident made it crystal clear.

The Little Sword Saint was—

No.

Moon Knight was an absolute master.

That was the kind of talk filling Henan now.

And—

‘Moon Knight my ass.’

Hearing it with my own ears, I could only despair.

Moon Knight.

‘My damn epithet changed overnight.’

When did they stop calling me the Little Sword Saint—because I was the Sword Saint’s successor—and decide it was Moon Knight now?

‘What kind of brain-dead epithet is that?’

I’d been trying to let Little Sword Saint slide, but now it was Moon Knight.

‘God, that’s embarrassing.’

Every time an epithet got attached to me, it soured my mood. I couldn’t understand how doing anything meant I suddenly got saddled with some grand nickname.

The hero who saved Henan by killing Sword Demon and rescuing Divine Spear and Jegal Jin.

‘...Insane.’

I exhaled hard, the thought dragging a sigh out of me.

‘What kind of bullshit rumor even is this?’

My head throbbed.

I endured the pain blooming behind my eyes and kept walking, slow and steady.

At the same time, I tried to get a grip on the situation.

My rumor spreading across all of Henan, my fame and honor skyrocketing—

‘Should I call that a benefit?’

I didn’t know yet. My mind hadn’t gotten that far.

‘Because that isn’t what matters right now.’

What mattered was this.

‘Why did my rumor spread like that?’

I needed to figure out why “Moon Knight” and all that nonsense had been pushed so hard.

Was it really because of what I had done—or more precisely, what Yoo Cheongil had done while borrowing my body?

I didn’t think so.

‘Even if what happened wasn’t small, and none of it was trivial.’

It still wasn’t the kind of thing that should’ve spread like this. Not this fast.

But if the rumor had swept through the region at this speed...

‘Someone interfered.’

Someone—or some organization.

And if we were talking about an organization with the reach to manipulate rumors...

‘The Beggars’ Union.’

The Beggars’ Union had to be involved. Which meant the next question was why.

The Beggars’ Union belonged to the Martial Alliance. Everyone knew it, even if no one said it aloud—the Beggars’ Union was called the Martial Alliance’s ears for a reason.

So if the Beggars’ Union moved to spread my rumor, then in other words the Martial Alliance moved.

And if the Martial Alliance had bothered to move just to inflate my story, the reason was—

‘To draw the gaze.’

To drag the public eye off the current crisis and onto me.

So then: why shift the gaze onto me?

That part wasn’t hard, either.

‘Because I’m convenient.’

It was fastest and easiest to make everyone look at me.

And once the gaze converged, there were plenty of advantages.

‘It reduces the backlash the Alliance would take over this incident.’

The “impregnable fortress” Martial Alliance getting swept up by a dark faction assault—

They wanted to pull attention away from that.

Criticism was coming. The Martial Alliance’s hard-built prestige could take a direct hit.

So in the middle of that...

No—

‘My maternal grandfather used me.’

Thousand-Mile True Sight, Jegal Jin. He’d used me as a decoy for the world’s attention.

‘Ha.’

There was no denying he was something else.

That was exactly why he’d gone out of way to drag me to the Righteous Guidance Conference, too.

‘So he can use me properly.’

Hide what went wrong inside the Martial Alliance.

And pour the world’s attention onto me instead.

Seven days and nights.

By any measure, not that long.

And yet if I assumed the Martial Alliance itself had stepped in and actively pushed the narrative—

‘Then it’s obvious.’

That was why I’d become a hero the moment I opened my eyes.

‘Ha ha.’

It was absurd. The more I turned it over, the more absurd it got.

And beyond that—

‘It pisses me off.’

Using me without permission.

That stuck in my throat. They’d used me as a shield to deflect everything that should’ve slammed into the Alliance. Of course it would make me angry.

‘...Sly bastard.’

If Thousand-Mile True Sight was good at one thing, it was being sly.

‘He planted a carrot in the middle of this mess.’

Right when my mood was curdling, he mixed in a reward.

Where was the carrot?

‘The carrot is that I’m being summoned right now.’

That I was going to the Righteous Guidance Conference.

Alongside the intent to use me, I understood the meaning hidden beneath it.

‘Come here and take what you can.’

I’ll give you something big, so don’t complain.

Jegal Jin’s message was so clear I could almost hear it spoken aloud.

If I asked what benefit there was in attending the Righteous Guidance Conference—

‘...Well.’

If my guess was right, it would be a substantial advantage.

Of course—

‘Only if I handle it right.’

Everything depended on how I acted.

So I needed to get my head straight.

‘How long have I even been awake, and I already have to do this shit?’

I’d woken up and the exhaustion hadn’t even faded, but I still had to use my brain first.

‘Damn it. I’ve got too much to think about.’

I still hadn’t even properly assessed the changes in my own body.

And I hadn’t heard, in any real detail, what happened to everyone else.

“Tch.”

CRACK.

I rolled my neck, forcing myself to organize my thoughts.

Just as I tried to loosen my stiff body by sheer will—

“We’ve arrived.”

The commander guiding me spoke. I followed his gaze, and in the distance I saw a colossal building.

Even within the Martial Alliance, it was a place that boasted an exceptional scale.

True Assembly Hall.

*****

As we neared the conference chamber of True Assembly Hall, a door came into view—along with the men posted to guard it.

“This way.”

The commander moved ahead toward the door, and the Alliance members standing watch reacted at once.

“...C-Commander, we gre—!”

The man about to speak properly caught sight of me behind the commander and froze in place.

His trembling eyes, the shock written across his face—I could feel his emotions from here.

“...Moon Knight...!”

“...”

I stopped my ears from turning red. No matter how many times I heard it, I didn’t get used to that epithet.

No—was this the first time I’d heard it directly?

I dragged a hand up my face, hiding the mess in my chest.

‘SSSS—.’

Hearing this felt wrong, but there wasn’t much I could say back.

While I held in a sigh, the guard finally snapped out of it and hurriedly opened the door.

CREAK—!

The door opened slowly. The commander stepped inside first, and I followed.

WHOOOOSH—!!!

“—!”

The air that poured out hit me so hard my breath caught in my throat.

‘Ha.’

Inner power was mixed into the air—so thick that just inhaling made my insides feel sticky.

And the weight of it...

The moment I entered the space, my shoulders felt heavy, like someone had draped stone over them.

My mind sharpened.

And the instant my feet crossed fully into the conference chamber—

WHOOOOSH—!!!

I felt eyes on me from every direction.

The people seated inside.

‘...The Righteous Faction’s sky.’

Or their pillars.

The ones who formed the Righteous Faction—those who carried the Central Plain’s massive achievements and prestige on their backs.

The leaders of those forces.

They were all gathered here, pouring their attention onto me.

‘...They said they gathered them in seven days and nights.’

And yet this many had arrived?

No...

‘That just means this is something big enough that they’d gather in seven days and nights.’

It felt unreal.

I couldn’t even clearly see who was who.

All I could feel were the intense gazes spearing into me.

My body threatened to lock up.

‘...Wow.’

A feast of people you’d never see anywhere else.

And among them—

‘...Those seats up there.’

Past the crowd of gathered leaders—an area where distance seemed carefully measured, positioned closest to the dais.

Five seats.

What were they for? I didn’t need long to think.

‘The Five Great Clans.’

Among countless houses, the ones that stood highest.

Those seats belonged to the Five Great Clans of the Central Plain—the families whose prestige was overwhelming.

‘...And three of them are already filled.’

Of the five seats, three were already occupied.

The first I recognized was the White King.

The White King—the head of the Murong Clan—was attending the Righteous Guidance Conference as well.

And besides him—

‘That guy...’

A man with black hair. Even seated, his sturdy build stood out.

His features resembled someone I knew all too well, and there was a similar edge to his grin—something that bordered on madness.

He was probably—

‘...Blade Absolute.’

Blade Absolute Peng Wooseong.

He wasn’t one of the Five Kings Under Heaven, but he was one of the absolute masters said to stand at their level—and he was the current head of the Hebei Peng Clan.

‘...Black-Grand Saber’s father.’

That lunatic—no, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Black-Grand Saber Peng Dojun’s father.

‘They really do look alike.’

They did. Now I knew exactly where Black-Grand Saber’s hulking frame and rough features came from.

And—

‘And next to him...’

Beside the White King and Blade Absolute.

Between those well-trained bodies, I spotted a middle-aged man with a comparatively thin, slight frame.

His hair was neatly kept, and he looked far more like a scholar than a martial artist.

‘So that means—’

I studied his clothing.

A gray martial robe edged in black. And on his chest, an emblem.

The moment I saw it, I understood.

‘...A Jegal Clan man.’

He looked like Jegal blood.

‘The young clan head?’

Thousand-Mile True Sight, Jegal Jin, was the current clan head of the Jegal Clan.

Even in old age, he hadn’t stepped down—so the man seated there had to be the heir, the young clan head.

His name was probably—

‘Jegal Hyeongyeon.’

Known not as a martial artist, but as a scholar—or more specifically, a formation master.

Jegal Jin’s eldest son, which meant—

‘...My uncle.’

My maternal uncle.

Maybe that was why the way Jegal Hyeongyeon looked at me was especially intense.

‘I’m going to throw up.’

Even if I tried to ignore it, there were too many eyes.

Not just those seats—everyone in the chamber was watching me.

Just as I started to feel drained enough to take a careful breath—

“Hm.”

A quiet exhale drifted down from the dais.

And then—

WHOOOOSH—!

‘What?’

In an instant, the pressure flooding the conference chamber vanished.

The owner of that breath was none other than Jegal Jin.

At the sound of his exhale, the gathered masters withdrew their inner power.

Men who could erase a mountain just by existing—tidied up by a single breath from a frail old man.

God of War.

It was a scene that made you understand what kind of presence a title like “Hero of the Orthodox-Demonic War” actually carried.

And then—

“Come up.”

Jegal Jin told me to step onto the dais.

“...”

Do I go up or not?

I hesitated, then moved.

The dais wasn’t tall, but the short distance felt like a thousand pounds.

‘...Here we go.’

Once I climbed onto it, the seated leaders were all in view at once.

What the hell was I supposed to do with those murderous stares?

Cold sweat threatened to bead on my skin.

Just as I narrowed my eyes against the tension—

TAP—!

Someone placed a hand on my shoulder.

It wasn’t Jegal Jin’s hand. This one was far bigger—steady, solid.

Who?

I raised my gaze, following the hand to its owner.

“...Huh?”

The sound slipped out of me the instant I saw him.

Cool, deep blue eyes.

The moment I met that gaze, I knew.

The man with his hand on my shoulder was—

“...Sect Master?”

The current Sect Master of the Blue Moon Sect—the father of Cheon Eujin and Moon Dancer.

Moon-Thread Sword Cheon Seonghwa.