The World's Greatest is Dead

I wanted to screw the Young Cult Leader over.

The instant that thought crossed my mind, the Heavenly Demon spoke as though he were enjoying himself.

[I happen to have a very good idea.]

He said he had a good idea.

[Well? Want to hear it?]

Then he added that in a coaxing tone.

No matter how I looked at it, it felt ominous. Hearing him talk like that reminded me of someone.

This.

Wasn’t that exactly the tone Yoo Cheongil used whenever he was about to do something pointless? Most of the time, when he spoke in that voice, it led to utterly ridiculous results.

Still.

“...What is it?”

I figured I should at least hear him out.

[Heh heh heh.]

The Heavenly Demon laughed at my answer.

And after what he said next—

“...What kind of absurd nonsense is that?”

I reacted like I couldn’t believe it.

Because it really was absurd.

The problem was—

“...How do I do it?”

Emotion got ahead of reason.

Because once I pictured it, it really did feel like I could screw him over hard if it worked.

Of course—

If this fails, I’m the one who’s screwed.

That was the issue.

The payoff and the risk were both enormous.

At that, the Heavenly Demon laughed and said:

[That ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) depends on how you decide to go about it. So choose.]

He whispered to me, urging me on.

[Will you do it, or not?]

There were two choices.

“......”

And maybe my choice had been decided from the start.

*****

Sssss.

The wind blew.

In the dark space, red eyes suddenly gleamed.

“I’m fairly certain I asked Bow Ghost to handle this—”

The Young Cult Leader spoke to the old man in front of him, his gaze chilly.

“But it seems things turned out a little differently.”

“......”

At that, the old man—the Death King—furrowed his brow.

“Death King. Doesn’t this differ somewhat from our agreement?”

“......Things got a little tangled. My master is in no state to move, so I handled it in her place.”

“You’re saying Bow Ghost is in poor condition?”

“That’s right.”

“......Hmm.”

The Young Cult Leader tilted his head.

Bow Ghost.

That inscrutable woman was in bad shape?

It hadn’t looked that way.

Tap. Tap.

His index finger struck the tabletop.

I thought I might make use of that side’s power. Did this get slightly twisted?

The Demonic Cult’s repository.

The stories written there about Bow Ghost.

Those were records left behind by the former Sky, the Heavenly Demon.

Among the information recorded there about the beings beyond heaven—

There was more written about Bow Ghost than anyone else.

The North Sea woman in full bloom.

A master of archery said to be capable of striking a target even from over a thousand li away.

There were more passages about Bow Ghost than anyone else, but the most shocking thing among them was—

Her greatest characteristic and her most important power are not her archery.

Bow Ghost was not formidable because of her bow.

Spirit art, was it?

The method of handling spiritual energy and dealing with what could not be seen.

That, according to the text, was her greatest power.

The power that must be avoided and guarded against above all else.

That was what the Heavenly Demon had said.

The Young Cult Leader found that hard to believe. What could possibly be so dangerous about something that looked like the sort of thing only Wudang Sect types would do?

But there was information saying she shook the Demonic Cult with that power.

The Young Cult Leader steadied his breathing as he recalled it.

Since Bow Ghost already bore hostility toward the orthodox faction and the Azure Moon Sect, he had thought it would be convenient if he could make contact and borrow her strength.

This is a somewhat disappointing result.

If Bow Ghost herself had moved, that would have been one thing.

Instead, her disciple, the Death King, had moved.

The objective had been to plant a trap in Thousand-Mile Divine Eye.

Still, since it succeeded, does that make it irrelevant?

It was hard to say whether it had succeeded or not.

What bothered him was that he had no choice but to judge by the Death King’s word alone.

Disgusting old man.

That was how the Young Cult Leader viewed the Death King.

For someone called the Death King, his martial prowess was not actually all that high.

And yet the reason he’s called one of the Five Kings Under Heaven is probably...

Corpse arts, was it?

His history of taking dead bodies, making reanimated corpses out of them, and sending them into war.

Because of that, even though it was filthy power, the orthodox faction had apparently chosen to overlook some of his sins on the grounds that he had contributed to the war.

Worms.

Just as contradictory and selfish as ever.

They had let a man like that slide because he had contributed to a war.

Truly—

There’d be nothing strange about wiping them all out.

Creatures lower than insects.

That was what the orthodox faction looked like to the Young Cult Leader.

If it were up to me—

He wanted to kill every last one of them right now.

Sssss.

He crushed down the killing intent boiling inside him.

If the Heaven-Slaying Star ran wild, things would get troublesome.

Not yet.

Not yet.

He still had not taken everything he needed to take.

I also have to watch what the Sky-Crushing Palace bastards are doing.

Those grotesque things who knew nothing of his thoughts.

He had joined hands with them and made use of them because they possessed strange power, but that did not change the fact that they too would eventually have to be cut away.

And I still have to swallow up the upper ranks of the Demonic Cult...

Not the Eight Demons.

The monsters of the previous generation.

He still had to persuade the Demonic Cult’s true strength—those who remained alive and hidden.

To do that—

I have to prove that I’m the true inheritor.

Proof that he had inherited more than mere red eyes from the Heavenly Demon.

He had to find it.

The divine artifact as well.

And the Heavenly Demon Divine Arts.

The sublime divine arts the former Heavenly Demon had used.

The power that had made Demonic Cultists kneel and torn open the blue sky by hand.

He had to find that somehow and obtain it.

“Whew.”

At that thought, the Young Cult Leader let out a sigh and looked at the Death King.

For some reason, cold sweat had formed on the old man’s brow.

“You don’t seem well.”

“......I’m old. Troubles like this come with it.”

“I do hope you recover soon. In any case, this means things worked out well enough, yes?”

“......That’s right.”

For the sake of the task, he had placed a light restrictive seal of the Demonic Cult on him.

Since the Death King had not resisted it, it should have taken properly in the body.

That meant he would be incapable of lying.

Though I still don’t know by what method.

If things had gone the way the records described, then it would not take long for problems to start appearing for that damned old man, Thousand-Mile Divine Eye.

“Death King, thank you for your assistance.”

The Young Cult Leader smiled.

“Please give Bow Ghost my regards as well. What I promised will be delivered at the appointed time. It seems I’ll have to make a trip to Xinjiang, so I ask for your understanding on that point.”

“......”

Hearing that, the Death King rose.

There was no farewell.

He simply stepped back.

“......Ha.”

At the sight, the Young Cult Leader’s face twisted.

“Annoying bastards.”

He dragged a hand over his face.

Just breathing the air of Henan was enough to make him want to vomit.

Merely meeting the eyes of the orthodox faction made him want to gouge their eyeballs out.

Especially—

Those eyes.

Those blue eyes that had looked down on him.

Bang Seongyeon, the Sword Saint’s inheritor.

He wanted to tear that bastard’s eyes out and chew them apart on the spot.

“Haa...”

It was exhausting, holding back.

Feeling that, the Young Cult Leader spoke.

“......Attendant.”

“Yes, Little Sky.”

At the call, the Demonic Cultist standing behind him dropped to one knee.

“What is Freak Demon’s condition?”

“He has shown no movement from his residence.”

“Really?”

The Young Cult Leader’s eyes turned flat.

Freak Demon wasn’t moving.

That bothered him too.

I was sure he’d do something.

Among the newly assembled Eight Demons, some had been active in the past, while others had been newly replaced.

And among them, Freak Demon—the one once called the Heavenly Demon’s strategist—had been especially displeased with him.

He might not show it openly, but it wasn’t subtle enough to go unnoticed.

The Young Cult Leader knew Freak Demon did not acknowledge him.

The nerve.

Who did he think he was?

He had wanted to try recruiting him if possible, because keeping him nearby looked as though it would be a great source of strength.

Does he know something?

Freak Demon’s walls were thick.

Almost as if he knew the Young Cult Leader’s secret.

If that’s the case—

Then he would have to be removed before too much time passed.

No matter what kind of force Freak Demon represented, keeping him close could never be less dangerous than getting rid of him.

“Attendant.”

“Yes, Little Sky.”

“If he shows any strange movement at all, report it immediately.”

“......I obey.”

Hearing that, the Young Cult Leader looked up at the sky.

SKREEEEEEEE—!

KYAAAAAH—!

Black spheres visible in his red eyes.

He watched them writhing violently as they screamed.

I still can’t get used to them.

Those grotesque things he had started seeing after these eyes had been implanted in him.

He couldn’t touch them.

He couldn’t feel them.

And yet he could see them.

The longer he looked, the more exhausted he became.

“......Hmm.”

Opening and closing his eyes, the Young Cult Leader rose.

It was late at night.

He needed to return for tomorrow’s sake.

If he stayed any longer, he might needlessly arouse suspicion from the Murim Alliance.

There are far too many eyes here.

There were eyes planted by the Alliance everywhere.

Moving around while avoiding them was a tremendous nuisance.

Not impossible, at least.

That much was fortunate.

Creak.

He gripped the door and opened it.

The moment the Demonic Cultists moved to follow him—

[So you’ve finally come out.]

“......!”

At the voice from ahead, the Young Cult Leader’s body froze.

Something was standing directly in front of him.

The Demonic Cultists moved first.

“Who are you?”

[Heh heh heh.]

Laughter answered the demand.

And then—

FWOOOOOOOSH—!!!

“......!!”

The Demonic Cultists’ bodies stiffened like stone.

The same was true of the Young Cult Leader.

Ahead of them stood a masked figure clad in dark robes.

At the energy pouring off him, every one of them held their breath.

This is...

That was impossible.

Cold sweat ran down the Young Cult Leader’s face.

It was far too familiar a presence.

“Demonic qi...?”

Demonic qi.

The force every Heavenly Demon and Demonic Cultist in history had used, and the power called the very source of Demonic Cultists.

That was what he felt from the figure before him.

“......You. Who are you?”

The Young Cult Leader frowned at that energy.

To be able to use demonic qi meant the man belonged to the Cult itself.

In other words, he was a Demonic Cultist.

Which meant—

“Do you know who I am and still stand there to receive me like that? If you are one of the Cult’s Demonic Cultists, kneel at once and remove your mask.”

There was no one in the Demonic Cult above him.

The Young Cult Leader knew that, and so he spoke to the figure accordingly.

But—

[Kneel?]

The figure reacted as though the very idea were laughable.

[Hahahahaha.]

The laughter rang out louder than before.

[There is no one in this world who can make me kneel. Least of all—]

Shing.

A sword slid from his waist.

The Young Cult Leader’s eyes widened.

“That—!”

[—some piece of trash sitting in a seat he has no right to.]

“The Heavenly Demon Divine Sword...?”

The Cult’s divine artifact.

The sword once wielded by the former Sky was there.

And at the same time—

[Stupid child.]

Behind the white mask, crimson eyes glowed with a sickening light.

The mark of the Heaven-Slaying Star.

A condition of the Heavenly Demon.

[How does it feel to hide behind lies and then face the real thing?]

“......You bastard. What the hell are you?”

Setting aside how he possessed the Divine Sword, what were those red eyes?

Grinding his teeth, the Young Cult Leader demanded an answer.

And—

[Don’t you already know? I am—]

The one behind the mask—

no,

[the sky of the Demonic Cult, and its all.]

Borrowing Bang Seongyeon’s body—

[I am the Heavenly Demon.]

The real thing spoke truth to the fake.