Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Became the Heavenly Demon's Terminally Ill Master (1)
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I started writing novels because of my first love.
It was simply because the girl sitting next to me dreamed of becoming a novelist, and I wanted to impress her, so I picked up the pen.
But I was a talentless hack. My prose was weak, my descriptions lacking, my settings a mess... nothing about my work was any good.
In my wuxia stories, the historical accuracy was a disaster. In my medieval fantasies, guns showed up out of nowhere. My game settings were so convoluted that readers tore me apart in the comments.
'...I never imagined it'd come back to bite me like this.'
I pressed a hand to my forehead and let out a deep sigh. Even after more than twenty years of waking up every morning vomiting blood, with my snow-white hair and blue eyes, I still couldn't get used to it.
The body I now inhabited belonged to a minor side character from my very first wuxia web novel, Diamond Fist King.
'To think I'd possess Bing Yeon, of all people. And in a world where all my novels are mashed together...'
That's the world I'd been dropped into.
A bizarre mess where my three novels had fused into one absurd reality, like kimchi pizza drowned in sweet-and-sour sauce.
And not just anywhere—I was the pathetic wretch with Nine Yin Absolute Veins, doomed to a short life.
If I had to pinpoint the cause of this tragedy, it'd be one devoted fan.
- Author, you can't drop the series. I'm the one reader who's stuck with all three from start to finish—what am I supposed to read if this goes too?!
The lone reader who'd followed me even to my final web novel, Possessed into an Idle Game. When I posted the hiatus notice, staring at views stuck at 2, this was the only one who tried to stop me.
(The reason it was 2 was because one was me.)
- If it comes to this, I have no choice but to show you my 'true feelings.'
That's how I saw the reader's comment, a flash burst from my monitor, and I was dragged here.
Normally, the author would pull some 'you get it, right?' stunt and shove the reader into the story, but I'd gotten the short end of the stick.
When I opened my eyes, I was living as a low-level grunt in the Five Poisons Cult in Yunnan Province.
In the novel, I was a throwaway side character added just to explain the North Sea Ice Palace's constitution.
Later, too much hassle to deal with, so I killed him off with a wave of the Heavenly Demon's hand— the half-brother of the heroine from the North Sea Ice Palace.
That's why my hair was stark white, my eyes an icy blue.
In wuxia tales, it was the mark of peerless beauties, cool on the surface but warm within.
'I shouldn't have added that bit about emitting even more yin energy than the "Ice Emperor." Should've made him whole-limbed with a martial prodigy body instead...'
The reason I ended up in the Five Poisons Cult instead of the Ice Palace was my even more extreme constitution than the heroine I'd set up.
Thanks to that, my looks kept me from starving wherever I went, but this damned yin body was reversing my blood flow.
I'd chewed through every elixir promising to cure absolute vein syndrome, but nothing worked.
Even the Divine Physician from my novels said it'd be a miracle if I survived to adulthood. No need to spell it out.
'If you were gonna possess me somewhere, why not the Infinite Sword Emperor or Poison Dragon—some powerhouse?'
Today, as always, I steadied my ragged breaths from the sickbed and barely managed to sit up.
Gripping my heart, spitting a bit of blood just to move—it felt utterly wretched. They say you don't miss your health until it's gone, and damn if that wasn't true.
Long story short, I survived past adulthood.
I refused to give up on life despite my innate constitution, training my body relentlessly to grow stronger.
I vomited blood several times a day but never stopped circulating my qi.
I sought out the powerhouses from my novels, bowing my head for their teachings.
With three novels blended together, I traveled between the East and West, mastering swordsmanship, aura, mana, and martial arts alike.
'A short-lived wretch like you?' They'd refuse at first, but seeing my grit and resolve, they eventually took me as a disciple.
I was that desperate. I wanted to live that badly.
Learning anything to suppress the chill enveloping my body would extend my life, even a little.
Whether by my tireless efforts,
I survived the Green Forest Bandits' raid I'd written into the story and made it through the infamous Righteous-Demonic Great War unscathed.
It diverged from the original plot I'd penned. The name 'Bing Yeon' was etched into every martial artist's history.
I earned the moniker Ice Dragon, grew strong enough to found my own sect, and gained people's respect.
Yes, everything was great—except my body was still on the verge of collapse, and no matter what I tried, I couldn't track down the final bosses from my novels.
I roamed this twisted world searching first for those final bosses.
In my originals, they were warped by tragic lives, holding beliefs diametrically opposed to the protagonists.
Fiction is one thing; this was reality now. As this world's creator, I had to find them.
"Master, did you cough?"
"Yeah, just woke up."
That's when I rescued a young girl from a pack of mad zealots.
A deranged cult forcing children into blood sacrifices, feeding them human flesh and blood.
With the martial arts and mana I'd honed, I eradicated the entire heretical group. I couldn't stand seeing kids suffer like that.
"Little one, I was so worried seeing you struggle to rise, Master..."
A black-haired girl looked at me with worried eyes. Her rims were red and puffy, like she'd been crying.
From the way she tidied the bloodied rags and damp cloth, she'd been nursing me again today.
"Biwol, you don't need to nurse me this diligently. Look at your little hands—all blistered."
"Don't say such heartbreaking things. How could a disciple leave her master's side?"
The girl by my side was named Biwol.
She matched the Heavenly Demon from my novel perfectly—name, description, appearance, everything.
'Originally, that cult was the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult...'
Like the witchcraft of gu, stuffing a jar with venomous insects until one survives.
They fed a young girl blood and flesh, conditioning her so she couldn't satisfy her hunger without slaughter.
That was the hidden backstory for Heavenly Demon Biwol I'd jotted in a notebook corner but never included.
'It's all my karma. I'll clean it up myself.'
The Heavenly Demon I'd written couldn't sate her appetite without killing.
Blood and human flesh were the only things to quench her thirst and hunger.
The Heavenly Demon I'd written couldn't sleep without killing.
Without screams and torture, sleep evaded her—that was the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
The Heavenly Demon I'd written never knew a warm parental embrace.
Her parents sold her for a handful of rice.
They were desperate to reduce mouths to feed, one step from starvation themselves.
"I like being by Master's side. How could this girl forget the warm embrace that saved her life?"
I saved Biwol to atone, knowing the plot needed the Heavenly Demon to advance.
What reason does an adult need to save a child?
Even if it derailed the story—I didn't care. I was the original author.
"Master taught me everything about living—how to breathe, how to make my heart beat again."
"Talk like that, and people will misunderstand..."
Biwol became my disciple the moment I pulled her from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
I taught her how to buy food, how to work, gave her a normal place to stay.
I even took in all the kids under that cult. No way she'd kill me later now.
"What if they do misunderstand? Among Master's disciples, I'm the one most worthy of being called your favorite, the beloved disciple."
"That's not what I meant."
Biwol wiped the blood from my lips with a smile. She often showered me with excessive affection like this.
It was obsession beyond master-disciple—enough to make other people and disciples click their tongues.
She'd watch over me till I slept, be the first face I saw upon waking.
Once, when I sneaked drinks at an inn, she dragged me back to the sect, saying the sick shouldn't booze.
'Is this the curse of the Heavenly Killing Star too...?'
Her movements defied normal logic, like she wasn't human. I stopped trying to figure it out.
"Master, breakfast and bath water are ready."
"I told you, you don't have to."
"But there's no lady of the house. Shouldn't I at least fill the role?"
She rubbed her face against me like it was nothing, even after I hacked up a mouthful of blood.
No matter how lavish the care, my constitution showed no sign of improving—I'd die soon anyway.
'What happens after I die worries me... She won't go back to being the Heavenly Demon, right? I smashed that cult to bits.'
I reviewed my deeds.
Saved a girl from a miserable fate, took in beggars and orphans as disciples, helped the downtrodden.
The protagonists from original Diamond Fist King wouldn't die to Biwol now. Time to prepare the next move.
"Master? Breakfast is getting cold."
"Ah, Biwol."
I looked at her wide-eyed stare and said what needed saying.
"...Soon, we'll be taking in a junior sister."
I had to save the Hero Verdandi from my second novel's final boss and the Saintess Azazel from the last one too.
That had to be why I'd been dropped into this world.
"A junior sister? From how you've specified gender and title, it doesn't seem like another kid sold by parents or a limbless soul..."
At that moment, Biwol's red eyes narrowed. Sharp as a serpent's, a piercing judgment.
"Little one, may I humbly ask why you're bringing a new woman into the sect?"
"...She's a girl who's lived a life as unfortunate as yours, Biwol. As senior sister, set a good example."
"No."
Biwol spoke curtly, each word heavy with emotion, snapping her spoon in half while eating.
Clink—the head hit the floor.
"If Master's heart is set on discarding me for a new woman, then discard me too."
Her hands trembled violently, voice misty. Terrified of abandonment again.
Honestly, with her dependency this severe, I worried how she'd hate the world after I died.
Once I was gone, she'd probably declare the world worthless and become the Heavenly Killing Star.
"You haven't forgotten our sect's rules, have you, Biwol?"
"...Ice Dragon Harmony Sect rules, etched deep in my heart. Kill no one without reason."
"Keep that promise, and you can come on this journey."
Truth was, I planned to bring her anyway.
The other novel's final bosses were as dangerous as Biwol.
A Hero so overflowing with justice she'd kill even the righteous for defying her values, no questions asked.
A Saintess starved of love from a tragic past, contracting with an outer god to claim it.
Even now, I wasn't sure I could subdue them properly.
"I swear it, little one. I'll protect Master from those wicked bitches."
She nodded fiercely, nuzzling like a puppy begging for pets.