Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Became the Heavenly Demon's Terminally Ill Master (2)
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Biwol waited until Bing Yeon had left the bathhouse, then made an excuse about cleaning as she hurried inside ahead of anyone else.
And then,
she immediately locked the door and glanced around suspiciously, checking if anyone was watching.
Her movements were like those of a small animal terrified of predators, but the reason for her caution was simply the fear of being caught by others.
"...Master's scent."
Confirming she was alone, Biwol began peeling off her clothes layer by layer. Her bare skin came into view.
Splash—!
Soon after, Biwol plunged her body into the bathwater her master Bing Yeon had just used to wash himself. She submerged completely, leaving only her head bobbing on the surface.
This was one of her naughty little secrets that no one but herself knew about.
Biwol couldn't bear the thought of her most beloved man's warmth drifting away.
She had secretly pressed her lips to the cup he'd used after a meal or sniffed the clothes he'd worn, so this was just an extension of those habits.
"Always so cold. As expected of someone born with the Extreme Yin Body."
Splash, splash. As she rubbed Bing Yeon's scent all over her body, Biwol muttered softly to herself. The bathwater even had thin patches of ice forming on it.
Her master's frail body was one that shortened his lifespan, but in exchange, allowed him to reach greater realms of power.
His yin energy was so overwhelming that it blocked his blood flow, preventing proper circulation of qi, leading to a slow, wasting illness that would eventually claim his life.
With her innate qi sense, Biwol could tell that the Nine Yin Absolute Veins affliction was eating away at Bing Yeon's body like a worm devouring its host.
"Right now, it's like the tree grows faster than the worm can eat..."
To describe Bing Yeon's current state, it was as if every time the worm gnawed a leaf, a new one sprouted immediately.
It seemed like he'd forcibly extended his life through various fortuitous encounters and spirit medicines. Any ordinary person would have long been bedridden from the agony constricting their body.
To rescue her from that cult, he'd fought the leaders there until vomiting blood.
All without asking for any reward or compensation.
What kind of person could have such a pure and kind heart?
Unlike her, born under the Heavenly Killing Star, he seemed almost like someone fated with the Purple Star of Prosperity.
Biwol thought the title "Ice Dragon" that the world used for her master was well-deserved.
"...Even when you grow old, will this condition hold?"
As she thought this, Biwol's affection for her master deepened. She imagined a distant future: her master, stooped and wrinkled.
"No, that's impossible..."
Biwol shook her head with a gloomy expression. Aging inevitably weakened one's vitality. Without reversing age or shedding one's mortal form, death was inevitable.
"Master... what should this girl do...?"
Recalling her master's touch, Biwol stroked her own hair and continued to fret.
He was more of a parent to her than the parents whose faces she couldn't even remember.
Unlike the cult leaders who taught her slaughter, he showed her how to value life.
In a world where she couldn't rest unless someone died, he gave her a home she could always return to.
Before she knew it, her master Bing Yeon had become the most precious being in Biwol's heart.
"Just thinking of Master makes this heart ache and hurt. Like a blade piercing my lungs, blood seems to flow."
Biwol tapped the center of her chest in frustration as she muttered to herself.
Having observed him closest, she knew well the depths of his suffering.
Every time he used martial arts, blood poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth. He vomited blood almost daily like it was waste—it was heartbreaking to witness.
"Yet whenever you look at wretched me, you smile so brightly, as if you feel no pain or worry. I hate that smile, that pretense, that mask."
He tried to hide his pain to keep his other disciples from worrying, forcing a smile.
"Having such a foolishly kind master, this unworthy disciple feels like she can't do anything for you..."
Biwol couldn't hold back her tears. She bit her lip to stifle sobs, but her emotions kept spilling out.
She hated the thought of her master turning into a cold, lifeless corpse like her old cult friends.
She hated him fading away without leaving anything behind.
She didn't want his warm, gentle voice, the scent enveloping her now, or that foolish smile reduced to mere fragments of memory.
"I just... wish..."
Grit. Biwol ground her teeth and spoke. She hated her own helplessness as her master slowly died.
She hated not being able to support him.
What if they were the same age, close enough to call him "big brother" or "husband"?
She wanted to be the reason he found the will to live.
She wanted him to say he didn't want to die because of her.
"...I really, really hate it."
Blood trickled from her lower lip where she'd bitten too hard. Unaware of the pain, she clenched even tighter.
Thus, Biwol's love for her master was somewhat twisted. Deviant, a step off the path of normalcy.
She didn't know proper love, having never learned it from Bing Yeon.
How could a man who'd never even held a woman's hand teach a pubescent girl what love truly was?
"Tonight, I'll sleep in Master's clothes again. And using my innate qi sense, I'll reach his chambers first thing before he wakes."
And so, Biwol's first love was tinged with sickness, fanaticism—like a blazing flame.
"That way, I'll monopolize Master's oblivious, dopey sleeping face. That's the special happiness granted only to me."
Because the karma of her Heavenly Killing Star hadn't manifested in slaughter, it twisted and erupted like this.
As an emotion heavier than death: love.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Hey, are you really satisfied just watching Master's sleeping face?"
A voice echoed from within Biwol's heart.
It was the essence of the Heavenly Killing Star itself—the one Bing Yeon thought he'd completely purged from this world.
"Master will die soon. And it'll be because of you, who can't do a damn thing."
Whispering like a serpent, this other Biwol yearned for slaughter and blood.
"If you got stronger here, you might even be able to cure Master!"
Biwol could reach even higher realms than now.
It wouldn't be impossible if she devoured all life and flesh on this land like gulping down river water, chewing up the spirit medicines that walked and talked.
"...Be quiet, bad Biwol."
"Calling me bad! I'm just giving you realistic advice for your sake."
"......"
More precisely, it was the uninhibited, brutally honest side of Biwol—lacking any reservations in expressing love for her master—that tempted her.
"In the end, I'm you, and you're me."
Rather than separate, it was akin to her true nature, tightly suppressed by her master's teachings.
"Shut up. As Master taught me, I won't take a life."
Hearing such honest inner whispers was torment itself, so Biwol shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the stray thoughts.
"But what if the new junior sister is more appealing than you?"
"...What?"
"This is the first time Master's singled someone out and called them 'junior sister,' right?"
The other Biwol in her mind chuckled slyly, blatantly stoking her jealousy.
"That's true, but..."
"He always brings back disciples saying someone's sick on the streets or starving in poverty. Don't you think it's weird?"
The way Bing Yeon gathered disciples was always similar. He pitied the sick slumped in alleys, those selling organs or limbs, or children missing arms or legs.
"'There's no need for a reason to pity another human.' That's what he says, yet he specifically wants a junior sister..."
"Has he... grown tired of me?"
Biwol bit her nails, showing her anxiety. She feared being discarded, terrified of losing that warm embrace again.
"Or maybe... there's another meaning to it."
The other personality within Biwol amplified her unease further.
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Before setting out, I checked the cards I held.
A bamboo slip written in handwriting only I could recognize.
I'd jotted it down right after falling into this world, when I realized three of my novels had merged.
'...Verdandi Astraia holds a strong advantage against evil-aligned characters.'
It contained info on Verdandi. Meeting her first would make defeating the final boss—who remained last—much easier.
Verdandi was, fittingly for the final boss of [Must Kill the Hero], utterly obsessed with justice.
'Verdandi's abilities are two: [Scales of Justice] and [Truth-Seeing Eye].'
When writing this novel, I'd given the final boss a backstory of villainy similar to Biwol the Heavenly Demon.
Verdandi's mother had been raped by bandits, leading to an unwanted pregnancy and her birth. She never received proper love from her mother.
Born as the vessel of a hero, she gained the ability to see the good and evil deeds of others, and eyes that distinguished truth from lies.
'...But I set that as poison instead.'
Verdandi learned that her mother had once tried to strangle her as a child but failed.
She realized even her mother's words "I love you" were lies.
If only she'd never known, never understood—how much better that would have been. She cursed her own powers.
'Should've made it simpler...'
A skilled author could craft a purely mad villain without such backstory.
Like Azazel, the outer god's saintess from [Possessed into an Idle Game], I could've given her a more empathetic history to allow for persuasion.
But for [Must Kill the Hero], I wanted a justice zealot you truly had to kill, per the title.
I aimed to convey that twisted justice and good could be as evil—crappy philosophy and all.
This was my karma; I had to fix it.
'My body can't even surpass the peak absolute realm yet. Can I pull it off?'
I wrapped bandages tightly around my fist while assessing my condition. Any strain now would twist my meridians, blood pouring from eyes, nose, and mouth.
The original protagonist of this wuxia world, Diamond Fist King Kim Huhl, would call me Blood Demon instead of Ice Dragon.
'...But with Biwol here.'
I tied off the bandage and thought. A martial genius born with the Heavenly Martial Body, originally fated to fight Kim Huhl.
Biwol, burdened with the Heavenly Killing Star's karma that demanded killing to survive, hadn't taken a single life since staying by my side.
So, I was confident I could sway Verdandi and Azazel too.
After all, I was their father. Their creator who birthed them.
I had to take responsibility.
"...Master, this girl is all prepared."
Creak. As I opened the door and stepped out, there was Biwol, kneeling gracefully before me out of nowhere.
I nearly jumped. Almost fainted.
"You planning to carry all that luggage yourself...?"
"These are just the basics. Is something wrong?"
I eyed the massive bundle behind Biwol's back. A mountain of miscellany fit for a horse or donkey.
"This is the cup you often used, Master. This is the bamboo leaf liquor you like, and that is the fish-flavored meat you once said you wanted to try. And..."
"...Enough. Just pack your clothes and some simple rations. I'll handle my own things."
Seems my disciple's respect for her master was a bit excessive.