Chapter 17
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: The Hero and Heavenly Demon's Master (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Master, I believe it's still too early to make any promises with little junior sister. As the saying goes, even a stream has its upper and lower reaches. At the very least, you should wait four years..."
A voice as cold as if it were carving out my heart with ice. Biwol was tugging at my left arm from my left side as she spoke.
It was an uncharacteristically cool and calculating tone from her. The heart demon had surely been purged, yet her voice carried a sticky, heavy emotion.
"Ah ha, you're lying! If that's the case, wouldn't senior sister become an adult first? Are you planning to hog all of Master's firsts for yourself?"
On Biwol's opposite side was Verdandi, pulling at my right arm just as fiercely, refusing to let me go.
Their gazes clashed like sparks flying as they bickered, Truth-Seeing Eye and all—even reminiscent of a dog and cat fighting over the same toy.
"You already stole Master's kiss just moments ago, so surely you can yield the rest!"
No, to be honest, it was just childish squabbling peeking through.
"You're nothing but a big lump of fat, and the only thing you have going for you is that you met Master a little earlier!"
The immaturity shone through in how they tore into each other's flaws and boasted about their own strengths.
"That's right. I became Master's disciple far earlier than you, and among the other disciples, I'm called his favorite to such an extent."
Biwol snorted, emphasizing her superiority.
It was the first time I'd heard her speak so casually—even to a child on the street, she was always polite and deferential.
"I'm sure Master sees me as a special disciple too! Otherwise, why would he risk his life for a total stranger?"
"Our Master has always taken pity on the pitiful. And in your case, didn't he say there was even a divine oracle?"
No, the oracle was a story I'd made up on purpose. It was a lie told to take in the hero destined to slay the Demon King as a disciple.
A wave of dizziness hit me, pain throbbing at my brow. I desperately wanted to press my fingers there to ease the vertigo.
"Hey, girls. Please calm down a bit and let go of me first so we can talk?"
The two quarreling over me right now were each the final bosses crowning the finale of their respective novels.
"No."
"Absolutely not!"
One was a martial artist at the very cusp of the Transcendent realm,
the other, a hero chosen by the Chief God.
Their pure physical strength showed no signs of yielding, which explained how Biwol had been able to pin me down for that kiss.
Sandwiched between my two disciples, feeling their soft, weighty sensations, a guilty sense crept over me that this was something I really shouldn't be doing.
...Calm down, Han Do-hyun. Do not focus on the sensation in your arms.
They were the ones in the wrong, clutching my arms so tightly against their bosoms that the blood flow was cut off.
Looking at my numb arms, I realized I'd been in this exact situation once before in my life.
It was on Valentine's Day, caught between the girls who'd stuffed chocolates into my locker.
- Oh, hey, Do-hyun. Nice weather today, huh... haha.
For the record, it was raining.
One girl was there, awkwardly scratching her cheek as I shook off my umbrella entering school.
- Seol-hwa? What are you doing at my locker?
- Oh, yeah! It's Valentine's Day, so I figured I'd give you at least some obligatory chocolate!
The girl was Yu Seol-hwa—the one who'd recently torn into my manuscript, saying I couldn't write.
- Sorry about last time! It was a habit. You have the talent to write better stuff, so it bugs me that you insist on writing sad stories...
When I opened my locker, amid the other chocolates was one that looked expensive, like it'd come from a department store. It stood out proudly—a trendy new thing called Dubai chocolate, stuffed with pistachio spread.
- I mentioned it to the chauffeur later, and he said I was in the wrong. So...
Seol-hwa scratched her beet-red cheek, but back then and even now, I was clueless about romance.
To me, living in a shanty in the slums, that kind of thing was a luxury for those who had it all.
- Thanks, I'll enjoy it.
I just nodded and thanked her while pulling out the other chocolates from my locker one by one.
- ...Do-hyun, got time later? Meet me behind the school after classes?
Another girl grabbed the tip of my sleeve. She had short hair, gym shirt tied around her waist—a cool beauty type.
Among the girls, she was called 'prince,' sweeping sports during PE and outshining even the boys.
I can't remember her name.
It was my first time seeing her face, and despite her looks, she'd sent a love letter plastered with hearts, so only her appearance stuck.
- Hey, who are you to act all chummy with Do-hyun?
Just like my current situation, Seol-hwa picked a fight to ward off the other girl.
- Huh? I'm class rep. Of course I know our Do-hyun's name and face.
- 'Our'? Ha, unbelievable. Listen, Do-hyun got tons of help from me yesterday. Do you have any idea how moved he was when I fixed his manuscript?
Their growling show of familiarity was ridiculous even to me. Truth be told, they were both near-strangers.
- Hey, Han Do-hyun, you little punk. Because of you, I don't get even one chocolate or love letter! Hand one over to your big bro here!
The buzzcut guy yelling nonsense from the side felt more like a real friend.
- Huh? What's with the vibe? Did you piss these girls off? Caught cheating or something?
- Beats me...
Come to think of it, I'd kept in touch with that guy even after graduation. Wonder how he's doing?
Personally, I hope he never writes webnovels. He could end up like me—snagged by the wrong reader and dragged into his own story.
"Master, the only one who can serve at your side forever is I, your beloved disciple Biwol."
"Oh? So even a great person like you nurtures darkness in her heart and troubles her master?"
"You're no different, junior sister! Didn't you try to kill the very mother who raised you, without even knowing why?"
"Ugh...!"
Verdandi faltered with a groan, unable to refute the irrefutable truth.
Though if we're splitting hairs, Biwol's heart demon—that had tried to kill everyone here—was no small matter either.
"Verdandi, do you really like this man that much?"
"Yes! I'd walk through hell itself by his side! He's the very model of the hero I aspire to be!"
As if cheering her on, Verdandi's mother chimed in. Verdandi nodded vigorously in response.
"...Very well, please take good care of my daughter."
Eila looked at me with pitiful resignation, landing the final blow. Her icy glare stabbed my heart like a dagger.
"Lady Eila, it's a misunderstanding...!!"
I shook my head frantically, wanting to explain that this was all just a fleeting mishap—a childish joke from youth that would fade.
After all, no one ever keeps promises like 'I'll marry Daddy!' or 'I'll like you forever!' from childhood.
"I would never lay a hand on my disciples!!"
"My girl never had a father, so she's lacking in many ways, but she's good at heart..."
"Thank you, Mother!"
Verdandi beamed contentedly at Eila's defense, while Biwol's expression darkened further. I had no choice but to rack my brains.
"...Biwol. Wouldn't it be better to at least bestow some grace on your junior sister?"
"Why should I?"
"That way, when the third disciple comes along later, you can solidify your position and authority."
A saintess who serves outer gods from beyond this world—treating all living things as toys, incomprehensible to humans like ants are to us.
I spoke to Biwol, thinking of Azazel Blackheart. It was because of her that I'd come all the way to this village seeking Verdandi.
"Master, then please tell me about this junior sister first. As your most cherished disciple, I shall carry out your will."
Biwol pondered briefly before nodding and accepting the proposal.
"She's a pitiful soul who serves a god from another realm. Her twin sister stole everything she loved."
"I've heard of otherworldly gods! They're the ones Demon Kings draw power from since ancient times!"
Verdandi, eavesdropping, jumped in without missing a beat, showing curiosity about the next disciple we'd seek.
When I wrote Must Kill the Hero, I'd already planned my next work, Possessed into an Idle Game, staring at the plummeting views.
This was why the two stories' settings connected—like this world, I'd intended links between the works originally.
"Her name is Azazel Blackheart. She's the saintess of outer gods. We'll probably need a guide like Wolfram to find her."
I'd failed to find Verdandi alone despite my efforts, but her guide made it possible. This time would be similar.
As if fate itself decreed it, even meeting the final boss required order and connections.
"Huh? Me?"
Wolfram had been watching the scene with a sigh, but pointed at herself in surprise when her name came up.
"Yes, probably... We'll need to meet Azazel's sister first."
Speaking of it made my chest tighten. Azazel's backstory, like the others', drew from my own unfortunate past.
I'd had an older brother who'd died young.
He'd monopolized our parents' expectations—the one I thought could escape this wretched poverty.
I'd grown up buried in the shadow he'd left behind.
"Wolfram, do you know about dream demons?"
To make it easier for the others, I first asked Wolfram, who seemed most likely to have prior knowledge.
"The race that burrows into people's hearts, shows them their heart's desire in dreams, and steals their essence?"
"Right, but Azazel has another danger. She can glimpse her opponent's future just by locking eyes."
Her eyes like a rainbow, bearing heterochromic hues—she was a truly tricky foe.
Reading futures upon eye contact, then countering or attacking based on that info, she'd risen as the final boss in Possessed into an Idle Game.
"Looks like an opponent who needs my holy sword! A succubus saintess serving forbidden outer gods—I want to make her repent and become Master's disciple soon!"
Verdandi shouted excitedly at my explanation, while Biwol propped her chin on her hand thoughtfully.
Soon,
"...When the concubines increase, even the principal wife needs allies to maintain her dignity. Understood. What do you need from me?"
She spoke as if it were the most natural thing about the future.
What if we actually meet Azazel and she sees some weird future?
A chilling thought flashed through my mind.
No way.
My good disciples wouldn't do that.