Chapter 2: I Became the Terminally Ill Master of the Heavenly Demon (2)

After Bing Yeon left the bath, Bi Wol quickly found an excuse to enter next, moving with haste before anyone else could.

Once inside, she immediately locked the door and scanned her surroundings, as if fearing someone might catch her.

Her movements resembled those of a small animal wary of predators, driven by a deep-seated fear of being discovered.

"...Master's scent."

After ensuring she was alone, Bi Wol began to undress, peeling off each layer of clothing. Soon, her bare form was exposed to the air.

Splash─!

Submerging herself fully in the bathwater where her master, Bing Yeon, had just bathed, only her head remained above the surface.

This was one of Bi Wol’s secret, unhealthy habits—one she kept hidden from everyone.

Bi Wol detested how the warmth of the one she adored most faded so quickly.

She would often steal sips from the cup he drank from or inhale the scent of his worn clothes. This act was merely an extension of her desire to cling to his presence.

"Always cold... perhaps because of your Extreme Yin constitution," she whispered to herself, as the bathwater, now coated with a thin layer of ice, chilled her skin.

Bi Wol knew her master was afflicted with the Nine Yin Severed Pulse, a deadly condition where overwhelming yin energy clogged the blood flow, gradually stifling qi circulation and slowly leading to a torturous death. It was like a worm slowly devouring him from within.

"They say the tree grows faster than the worm... but in Master's case, the worms have almost eaten everything."

Bing Yeon’s life had been unnaturally extended through the use of rare elixirs and miraculous medicines. If he were an ordinary man, the pain would have confined him to bed long ago.

Despite his suffering, he had fought the cult leaders to save her, coughing up blood during the battle.

All he had asked for in return was that she be free.

What kind of man possessed such boundless kindness?

Unlike herself—born under the Heavenly Killing Star—he seemed as though he had been blessed by the Benevolence Star.

Bi Wol thought her master's title, Ice Dragon, was fitting for someone so strong yet kind.

"...Will this continue even as he grows old?"

Bi Wol’s affection for her master deepened as she imagined a future where he aged, becoming wrinkled and bent.

"No... that's not possible."

She shook her head, her face darkening. Aging was inevitable, and unless one was reborn or underwent a transformation, death was inescapable.

"Master... what will happen to me when you're gone?" she muttered softly, touching her head where he had patted her.

To Bi Wol, Bing Yeon was more than just a teacher. He was a father figure, far more significant than the parents she could barely remember.

He had taught her the value of life, unlike the cult that had instructed her only in the ways of death.

He had given her a home where she could rest peacefully, a stark contrast to her former world where she couldn't sleep unless someone had been killed.

At some point, Bing Yeon had become the most precious being in Bi Wol’s life.

"Whenever I think of Master, it hurts... It feels like a blade is lodged in my chest, like I'm bleeding inside."

Bi Wol’s voice trembled as she beat her chest, trying to alleviate the tightness within.

As the closest person to Bing Yeon, she was painfully aware of the suffering he endured.

It tore her apart to witness him bleed from his nose, mouth, and eyes after using martial arts, to see him vomit blood daily like it was second nature.

"And yet, whenever you see me, you smile, as if everything’s fine. I hate that smile. I hate that lie you wear like a mask."

Despite the agonizing pain that ravaged his body, Bing Yeon forced a smile, hiding his struggles so as not to worry his disciples.

"As your undeserving disciple, it pains me that I can do nothing for you..."

Tears welled up in Bi Wol’s eyes. No matter how hard she bit her lip to hold them back, her sorrow broke through.

She couldn't bear the thought of her master becoming a cold, lifeless body, like her friends from the cult.

She couldn’t stand the idea of him fading away, leaving nothing behind.

She hated the thought that his warm, gentle voice, his comforting scent—now clinging to her skin—and his tender smile would soon be nothing more than memories.

"I... I..."

Bi Wol’s voice wavered as she ground her teeth, feeling utterly helpless as she watched her master slowly die.

She resented her inability to help him, her powerlessness in the face of his decline. If only they were the same age, close enough for her to call him 'gege' or 'laogong.'

She wished she could give him a reason to live.

She wished he would say he wanted to survive for her sake.

"...I hate this so much."

Blood seeped from her lips, which she had bitten too hard, but Bi Wol didn't care.

Her love for Bing Yeon was obsessive, bordering on deranged. It was far from the healthy affection one would expect.

She hadn’t learned how to love properly. How could she, when Bing Yeon—her teacher, the man who had never even held a woman’s hand—had never shown her what love should be?

"Tonight, I will sleep in Master's clothes. And tomorrow morning, I’ll be the first to visit his bedchamber before he wakes up."

Thus, Bi Wol's love for her master was not only obsessive but also darkly fanatical, like a flame that burned too hot.

"By doing this, I can monopolize Master's sleeping face. That is the only happiness allowed to me."

Since the Heavenly Killing Star within her couldn't express itself through violence, it had twisted into this intense, consuming form of love.

A love more suffocating than death.

Are you truly content with just watching your master sleep? A voice echoed in Bi Wol’s mind.

It was the embodiment of the Heavenly Killing Star, a part of her Bing Yeon had thought he had completely erased.

Master will die soon. And it will be because of you, because you couldn’t save him. Another version of Bi Wol whispered like a serpent, thirsting for blood and death.

If you grow stronger, you might be able to heal him! Bi Wol had the potential to reach heights far beyond her current power.

It wouldn’t be impossible if she drank the life force of every being on this earth, consuming them like an endless stream.

"...Quiet, you wicked Bi Wol."

Wicked? I'm just offering you a solution. "......"

This other personality, more honest and open in her desire to save her master, tempted her constantly.

After all, I am you, and you are me. It wasn’t truly a separate entity. It was merely the essence of who Bi Wol really was, hidden away and suppressed by her master’s teachings.

Shut up! I won't take a life. Master taught me better."

Bi Wol, her heart heavy with the weight of such unsettling whispers, shook her head violently, trying to rid herself of the invasive thoughts.

But what if the new junior sister is more charming than you?

"...What?"

This is the first time Master has called someone a 'junior sister,' the voice taunted with a sly chuckle, feeding on her jealousy.

"But that’s..."

Master always brings in disciples out of compassion—starving souls, beggars, orphans. Doesn’t it strike you as odd?

Indeed, Bing Yeon's way of gathering disciples was always consistent. He rescued those abandoned by society—patients on the streets, children who’d sold their bodies or were missing limbs.

Yet this time, someone being referred to as a 'junior sister'?

"Could he... be tired of me?"

Anxiety clawed at Bi Wol as she nervously bit her nails, haunted by the fear of being discarded, of losing that comforting warmth again.

Or maybe there's something more behind it. The other voice in her head fed her insecurities, amplifying her fears.

Before departing, I checked the items in my possession.

One of them was a bamboo slip with writing legible only to me.

It contained notes I had scribbled soon after being thrust into this world, back when I realized that the stories I had written—three different novels—had somehow blended into one.

‘...Verdandi Astraea has a powerful advantage over characters with evil tendencies.’

It held valuable information on Verdandi. Meeting her early on would make dealing with the final boss simpler.

Verdandi, the last antagonist from my novel The Hero Must Die, was a character obsessed with justice, to a fault.

‘Verdandi possesses two key abilities: Scales of Justice and Eyes that Know Truth.'

When I created her, I modeled her troubled backstory after figures like Bi Wol, the Heavenly Demon.

Born from her mother's rape by a robber, Verdandi was never shown true love and grew up despising the world. She was endowed with the eyes to see through lies and discern the goodness or evil in others, but this blessing was also her curse.

'...And I crafted that curse.'

Verdandi had learned that her mother once tried to strangle her in her infancy but failed. Even the loving words her mother occasionally muttered held no truth in her eyes.

Her power only made the deception more agonizing.

'Perhaps I should’ve kept her backstory simpler.'

A more experienced writer could have easily created a purely insane villain without such a tragic history.

Like Azazel, the mad saint from Possessed by an Idle Game. I could have made Verdandi more relatable, leaving room for empathy and persuasion.

In The Hero Must Die, I wanted Verdandi to be a justice-obsessed fanatic, the kind of antagonist who truly needed to be eliminated, just as the title suggested.

I also sought to weave in the amateur philosophy that twisted justice could be just as dangerous as outright evil.

And now, it was my burden to resolve this tangled web I had spun.

‘Can I truly break through this wall in my current state?’

I wrapped my fist tightly in bandages, evaluating my body’s condition. If I pushed myself too hard, my blood vessels would twist, making me bleed from my eyes, nose, and mouth—a far cry from the peak martial artist I once was.

If Kim Hyul, the original protagonist of this martial world and the King of the Vajra Fist, saw me now, he’d likely call me the Blood Demon rather than the Ice Dragon.

‘...But at least I have Bi Wol.’

I bit through the bandage, thinking about my disciple. Bi Wol, a prodigy born with the Heavenly Void constitution, who was meant to be a rival to Kim Hyul.

Even though Bi Wol was burdened with the Heavenly Killing Star—a fate that demanded her to kill to survive—she hadn’t taken a single life while by my side.

That alone gave me confidence. If I could guide her, then perhaps I could also influence Verdandi and Azazel.

After all, I was their creator—the one who brought them into this world.

And with that came responsibility.

"...Master, this girl is ready."

I turned to find Bi Wol kneeling silently before me, having appeared without a sound.

The sight nearly made me stagger.

"Were you planning to carry all that luggage...?"

"I only packed what was necessary. Is something wrong?"

I stared at the enormous pile of items stacked behind her—a mountain of belongings that could easily overwhelm a pack mule.

"This is the cup Master often drinks from, and here’s the bamboo leaf liquor you enjoy. And this," she pointed, "is the fish-fragrant pork you mentioned once. Also..."

"...Enough. Just pack your clothes and some light food. I’ll handle my own necessities."

It seemed my disciple's devotion to me had gone a little overboard.