Chapter 9
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Hero of Justice, Verdandi Astraia (2)
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I hadn't set any specific weaknesses for Verdandi.
She was designed on the surface as the epitome of a flawless Hero of Justice. The complete opposite of something rotten to the core.
She was strong enough to kill with that kitchen knife, and later she would draw her holy sword and armor, growing even more powerful.
...This situation isn't good.
I bit my lower lip as I thought it over. The problem was the gravely wounded woman with a knife in her gut, bleeding out with her entrails spilling.
Verdandi's mother, Eila Astraia, critically injured. And we only have one mage who can heal.
I'd thought removing Gold Tower Lord Wolfram's drunken stupor and layering defensive magic would prevent the worst.
I'd brought Biwol, the final boss of [Diamond Fist King], figuring her overwhelming power would crush any opposition.
That should have created the minimum conditions to even talk to Verdandi.
But my novel's final boss had gone mad far sooner than I'd imagined.
To think she'd stab her own mother.
"You came here to take me as your disciple? You're out of your mind!"
Verdandi laughed as she pointed the bloodied kitchen knife at me. Her blue eyes gleamed without a flicker of doubt.
"Yes, I came to lead you down the righteous path. Join me, and you'll suffer no more. You won't be chained to the role of Hero—you could live an ordinary life..."
I took a calm step forward. Spreading my empty hands wide, I showed I meant no harm, no weapons.
"Ha, hahaha! You're way too late—years too late!"
Verdandi cackled like a maniac, raising the knife high—as if to stab the fallen Eila again.
"Even beasts cherish their young, but I nearly died by my mother's hands as a newborn!"
Tears streamed down her face as she bellowed. It looked like all the emotions she'd bottled up were finally exploding.
Of course they would. I'd crafted Verdandi's backstory myself.
She was abandoned by her village, by her mother, and even by the comrades who gathered to defeat the Demon King.
All because of my petty ideas.
I'd thought I could melt my own past into words, committing the one sin a writer should never commit.
A writer should speak through their words alone.
I glanced back at those behind me as I reflected.
Biwol would leave the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult behind and live an ordinary life under me. Wolfram would find the Philosopher's Stone and become a true alchemist who could make gold.
I didn't need to fill the story with tragic backstories. I could have won with pure narrative craft.
"...Biwol, Wolfram. Please."
I nodded slightly, signaling them to save Verdandi's mother.
"As you wish, Master."
"Got it!"
Biwol stomped the ground hard.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡
Heavenly Demon Divine Art, First Form: Heavenly Demon Supremacy Step
Space-tearing speed | Thunderous impact on impact
Just from the force in her legs, the wooden floor splintered with a crackle—crack!—shattering into pieces as a deafening roar like thunder echoed.
Her speed tore through space itself; everything but Biwol seemed to move in slow motion.
"Mountain of gold embracing all, raise a shield forged of coins, aid this poor soul with new breath."
⟨ Aegis of Gold ⟩
Whoosh! Seizing Verdandi's moment of shock, Wolfram began her incantation. She layered multiple magic circles atop her staff, forming a thick, coin-like three-dimensional structure.
"...Aegis of Gold!"
The golden three-dimensional magic circle enveloped Eila like a shield the moment the spell left her lips.
"...?!?"
Verdandi stared as the wounds inside slowly knit together. She immediately swung her knife to shatter Wolfram's magic.
A brute-force method, but with her strength, impossible? No. A strong physical impact could disrupt even magic.
This world blended wuxia and fantasy, so raw power logic applied everywhere.
"I'd never serve a monster like you as my master—not even in death!"
As Biwol closed in to save Eila, Verdandi charged with her knife, reacting instantly.
She'd matched the speed of Heavenly Demon Supremacy Step. Biwol flinched in surprise—and at this rate, she'd take the blade.
"Not so fast. Your opponent is me."
I immediately assumed the second stance of Ice White Divine Art, channeling my internal energy to its maximum.
My Extreme Yin Body constitution.
Pain clenched my heart like a vise, my meridians reversing in agony,
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡
Ice White Divine Art, Second Form: Ice Shadow Wall
Freezes empty air | Blocks paths
But to save Eila now, this was the only way. I had to create an opening for Biwol to escape with her safely.
Boom!
I thrust my open palm between Eila and Verdandi—an ice wall materialized from thin air, cleaving the space between them.
"...An ice wall? Are you mages?"
Verdandi gaped at the sudden barrier, incredulous. Raised in this village, she knew little of the eastern continent.
"Master, the injured is secure."
Thud! Biwol snatched Eila in the chaos and returned to my side. Eila gasped, on the brink of death.
In the original story, Verdandi's mother died by her hand—but last of all.
"Go outside with the Gold Tower Lord and staunch the neck wound. I'll handle this."
Verdandi stabbed her fallen mother with her holy sword atop a mountain of villain corpses.
She was the one to stop the fully corrupted Hero, sacrificing herself with words of love.
Bearing the sin of matricide, she earned the title of "arch-villain" last, realizing her crimes.
Blind justice, a blind blade—destroying only herself.
The Hero who sought to kill all life ended her own with suicide.
The protagonist Hero gazed emptily at her corpse, cremated it, and prayed she'd be reborn loved in the next life.
That was the ending I'd envisioned for Verdandi in [Must Kill the Hero].
An ending I never wrote, abandoning the serialization.
"But Master...! Your body can't take it! She's strong enough to react to my technique!"
Biwol cried, seeing blood stream from my eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She clung to my arm, refusing to leave.
"Isn't it common knowledge that a master surpasses their disciple?"
I gently stroked her hair as always, soft and tender, conveying unspoken feelings.
Besides, without Biwol aiding Wolfram, we'd be caught even if I fought Verdandi.
"Maybe I'm not the world's greatest demon. Nor the supreme under heaven. Certainly not the greatest of all time."
Thump, thump. My heart pounded. I glared at the foe before me and spoke.
"But I am a master with countless disciples. Better a beloved everyman than a hollow powerhouse."
I thought of my disciples in Ice Dragon Harmony Sect and my students in reality.
Children who smiled because of me, joyful in learning. They'd taught me so much about life.
"So I must do something a disciple can take pride in. Something to step beyond my shadow and achieve greatness one day."
Meeting Biwol convinced me my life wasn't a failure as a webnovel author. Here it breathed, alive and moving.
"All talk, no action! Doesn't change that you're an arch-villain!"
Verdandi shouted, veins bulging in her neck, eyes bloodshot.
"Why do you think I'm an arch-villain to begin with?"
"Because I'm the Hero, of course..."
"...What if you're not the Hero? Ever considered you might be an ordinary person?"
I stepped slowly toward Verdandi, closing the distance until her knife could reach me.
"What are you trying to say?!"
"Your abilities are [Truth-Seeing Eye] and [Scales of Justice]. Each has two flaws."
Grip. I seized the knife she'd aimed at me with one hand. No blood flowed—it froze solid.
"[Truth-Seeing Eye]'s flaw: If the speaker doesn't know it's a lie, it registers as truth."
"...?!"
Verdandi struggled, grunting, but couldn't free her hand fused with the ice block.
"[Scales of Justice]'s flaw: If the gap between good and evil deeds stems from a massive event, the result can flip anytime."
I stomped once. Crack! Her lower body froze solid.
Her hands and feet bound, she couldn't resist.
"Look with those eyes again. See if the man before you is truly an arch-villain."
"...This can't be."
Verdandi blinked in disbelief, sighing. At first glance, her ability would label me as such.
I was the one who'd doomed this world by abandoning the serialization.
But,
"Truly... a good man?"
I hadn't fled responsibility. I'd saved Biwol, Wolfram, and now Eila, pushing my body to the limit.
Those deeds were finally balancing the scales, belatedly.
"Yes. Now, will you trust this master over your abilities?"
Blood trickled from my mouth. Backlash from overexerting yin energy, twisting my meridians.
"I was commanded here by a god-like being to save you."
The sole reader who possessed me into this world just wanted to see the story's end.
To a writer, readers are gods.
Without them, writers cease to exist.
"It's true... How could this..."
So this wasn't a lie. It was as real as a divine oracle.
"You'll learn love and hate from me, the contradictory emotions of sorrow and joy coexisting. Just as your mother did."
"My mother... spoke?"
Verdandi's breathing quickened. Seeing me through her ability, she was willing to listen.
"Yes. Your mother was impregnated against her will by a bandit who raided your home. Strangling your infant neck was unforgivable."
"..."
"But her love for her child won out. Shame and humiliation made even that ring false to your eyes."
"Are you... an apostle of the gods?"
Verdandi's voice trembled, eyes widening, tears falling.
"No, I'm just a mortal. Like you, I fear daily that people won't see my true heart."
I gently stroked Verdandi's hair. A stiffer texture than Biwol's.
"Don't mind the villagers scorning you. They're intertwined in evil like snakes coiled together."
"Is that... true? Am I... a good girl?"
"Yes, you're a good girl. I was too late, too clumsy and immature, made mistakes—but it's not too late to fix."
I embraced her tenderly. Probably her first warm hug.
Eila harbored guilt, love, and disgust toward Verdandi—never showing affection so openly.
"H-huh... eunggh..."
Verdandi sobbed, snot and tears flowing.
"I was so lonely. Mother showed as a villain, even 'I love you' as a lie..."
"There, there."
"Knowing she tried to strangle me as a baby... sleeping beside her terrified me. Every day felt like suffocating to death."
"That must have been hard."
I patted her, consoling the young girl burdened by such tales.
"Villagers despised me, snuck bugs in my food, gossiped I lived like my slut of a mother..."
"I'll resolve all your past wrongs. Don't worry. No one under heaven will curse you now."
Verdandi wept in my arms. Until the weight of fifteen tormented years lifted.