I Became the Terminally Ill Master of the Final Bosses – Chapter 11

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“I apologize for showing you such an unsightly scene…!”

Verdandi wiped away her tears, her puffy eyes and red cheeks revealing years of suppressed emotions.

“It’s alright. No one is perfect. We all make mistakes, we stumble, we learn.”

I smiled gently at her. She was simply a product of her environment, lacking the guidance and support needed to navigate the complexities of human emotions.

Just like I had been in the past. Before I met my first love, I hadn’t learned how to express myself through writing.

– What’s your name? Dohyun? That’s an unusual name.

It felt like a lifetime ago, but that was my name in reality.

– Dohyun, your writing is terrible. How can you put such unpleasant experiences on paper?

Han Dohyun (漢道玄).

A name that meant “to place a period (玄) on the path (道).”

It was a name that predestined me to be a writer, but unlike my first love, I had no talent.

– There are too many commas. Your line breaks are weird, and you’re just writing for yourself.

Those were the words my classmate had said to me as I struggled to fill my writing notebook in school.

– You’re too pessimistic. Who wants to read a story that’s nothing but sadness?

Her name was Yoo Seolhwa (劉雪花). Unlike me, she was a natural-born writer, gifted with a way with words that could move people’s hearts.

In a way, she was the reason I was trying so hard to save these final bosses.

– Every story deserves a happy ending. The author, the reader, and even the characters within the story should find happiness.

Her words had lodged themselves in my heart like a thorn, a constant reminder of my own failings.

“…”

“Bing Yeon? What’s wrong?”

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face Verdandi, who was following me as we searched for the other villagers.

“Just lost in thought. Thinking about someone I miss.”

What would Seolhwa say if she could see me now? Reincarnated into a world where my own creations had come to life, my own body ravaged by a terminal illness.

And me, desperately trying to atone for my sins by saving the very characters I had condemned to a life of misery.

“Who is this person you’re thinking about? You look so sad!”

Verdandi was quick to pick up on my mood, her expression brightening as she tried to cheer me up. Children were often attuned to the emotional states of those around them.

‘…Was this also part of the setting I wrote for her?’

I closed my eyes, remembering the life she had endured.

A life where she prioritized the emotions of others over her own. It was no wonder she had snapped.

It was why she had been so susceptible to the Divine’s oracle, and why she had been so easily swayed by my words.

“She was my first love. A memory from a time when I was innocent and naive, a time I can never return to.”

“…What’s ‘first love’?”

Her innocence was almost painful. I sighed.

“It’s the person you first loved, the one you cherished above all others.”

“I don’t understand! Some boys have confessed their feelings for me, but they were all just teasing me!”

She was a blank slate, her future unwritten.

If I hadn’t intervened, she might have become a cold-blooded killer, judging everyone to be evil.

“Do you think that’s also a form of love?”

Verdandi stepped in front of me, her eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her innocence.

“No. Love is a feeling that makes you willing to sacrifice anything, even your own life, for the one you love. It’s a feeling that compels you to do anything for their happiness, but never to hurt them…”

“…Does that mean you love me, Bing Yeon? This is so embarrassing!”

To be precise, it was closer to a paternal love. I wanted all of my creations to find happiness.

It was like a child finally tackling a long-overdue assignment. I felt almost ashamed to call it ‘love’.

“No. This is how a master cares for his disciple. As you grow older, you’ll meet new people, build relationships, and eventually find someone to love and marry.”

I imagined Bi Wol, Verdandi, and Azazel in their wedding dresses.

Handsome men by their sides, thanking me as they embarked on their new lives.

I’d probably cry, wouldn’t I? I finally understood why fathers cried at their daughters’ weddings.

“You’re the first man who’s ever cared for me like this! Can’t I marry you, Bing Yeon?”

“That’s not funny.”

To me, these three were like daughters. An author often felt a paternal connection to their characters.

And despite the incident with Bi Wol earlier, I harbored no romantic feelings for her.

“I’m your master. No master in this world would ever think of their disciple in that way.”

And even if there was, would they deserve to be called a ‘master’?

A relationship between a master and disciple that turned romantic would be met with disapproval and condemnation.

“But there must be some masters like that! Men in this village often look at me with lust in their eyes! I’m not unattractive!”

“…I’m not one of those men. I have never looked at my disciples in that way.”

I couldn’t even bear to look at my own disciples.

The Ice Dragon Blossom Heart Sect was a haven for those who had been cast aside: coachmen, waiters, beggars, orphans, amputees, and even those who had sold their bodies and organs to survive.

And my reputation as a user of ice-based martial arts further alienated us from the more traditional, righteous sects.

“It’s true! You really are a pure and noble person!”

Verdandi was still using her abilities to verify my words. She giggled, finding my honesty amusing.

“A master earns the respect and loyalty of his disciples through his character and wisdom. At least, that’s how I see it. Ruling through fear or brute force will eventually lead to betrayal.”

I slowed my pace, remembering the instructors at the cram school where I used to work. Some of them believed in corporal punishment, justifying it as “tough love.”

‘…Those guys were mocked relentlessly behind their backs.’

They were my polar opposites. I had tried to reason with them, to explain why their methods were wrong, but they wouldn’t listen.

“The human heart is fragile, like a delicate piece of glass. Sometimes, you need to be explicit with your words and actions, otherwise, your true feelings will remain hidden forever.”

I might have been known as the “handsome teacher” or “Mr. Chiseled Jawline” at the cram school, but my true skill lay in counseling.

I listened to my students’ dreams and anxieties, guiding them and helping them to stay on the right path.

It was my way of coping with my own failed dreams of becoming an author.

“So that’s why you hugged me so warmly! If I could choose my father, I would choose someone like you!”

I couldn’t help but smile wryly at her words. After all, I was the one who had written her story, her yearning for a father figure.

I had simply projected my own pain onto my writing, the pain of being labeled an “unwanted son.”

How did things turn out like this?

“You don’t need to be so formal. Just call me ‘Master’. That’s enough.”

I patted Verdandi’s head, just like I did with Bi Wol. Her hair felt dry and brittle.

“‘Master’… Is that really okay?”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. It was clear that she had longed to address me in this way.

It was a little awkward, but I preferred it to the overly formal way she had been addressing me before.

“Yes. Look, there’s your mother. Go to her.”

“Okay, Master!”

She hesitated for a moment, as if afraid to approach Eila, so I gently nudged her forward.

This was something I couldn’t help her with. The bond between a parent and child was something they had to repair themselves.

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Eila woke up, her mind struggling to grasp the situation. Hadn’t Verdandi accused and stabbed her in the abdomen?

The wound that had exposed her intestines was completely healed, as if it had never existed.

“You almost died, you know.”

The woman with the wine bottle, the one they called the Master of the Gold Tower, scowled at her.

“Did you save me?”

“Yeah, but save the thank-yous for when your daughter gets here. There’s someone who put their life on the line to stop your little family feud.”

Wolfram sighed in relief. If it hadn’t been for Bing Yeon’s quick thinking and decisive actions, things could have ended very differently.

“My daughter…? Wait, what happened to Verdandi?”

“Speak of the devil. There she is. Good luck with that.”

Footsteps approached, and Eila saw a young girl with a golden laurel wreath on her head walking towards her.

“Verdandi…?”

It was her daughter, her precious Verdandi.

Eila stared in disbelief as Verdandi, after a moment of hesitation, started running towards her.

– Even animals cherish their young! But I almost died at the hands of my own mother when I was just a baby!

Eila didn’t know if Verdandi remembered that night, the night she had tried to kill her. She was just a baby back then. It had all happened so fast.

Even as she lay bleeding, Eila had fought to stay conscious, to hear Verdandi’s accusations, to understand the pain she had caused.

This was all her fault. It was her failure as a mother.

“Are you hurt…?”

“Mother…”

The first words out of Eila’s mouth were a simple expression of parental concern.

“It’s all my fault. I should have realized sooner… I should have listened to you.”

“…Ha.”

Verdandi was speechless. Her mother, who had almost died, was apologizing to her? It didn’t make sense.

“…I hate you.”

Verdandi’s hands clenched into fists. She was angry, angry that her mother was trying to apologize after everything that had happened.

“I hate you for not being angry with me, for not being upset about what happened, for knowing how the villagers treat me and not doing anything about it.”

“It’s all my fault. It’s my fault for not being a good mother. I’m sorry, my daughter.”

Eila caressed Verdandi’s cheek and then pulled her into a tight embrace.

Why hadn’t she shown this kind of affection before?

“Stop saying you’re sorry! You’ve done nothing wrong!”

Verdandi’s voice trembled with barely suppressed tears.

“I was an unwanted child! The daughter of a rapist! You didn’t even know who my father was!”

“….”

“It’s all my fault! I believed the Divine’s oracle! I thought you were evil!”

She wished her mother would slap her, yell at her, tell her she was disgusting.

“Why aren’t you angry with me?! I almost killed you!”

Eila just held her, sobbing quietly. Verdandi felt tears streaming down her own face. She wanted to apologize, to tell her mother how sorry she was, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Because she loves you more than anything, Verdandi.”

“…Master.”

“Even when stabbed by her own child, a mother blames herself. That’s what it means to be a parent.”

Bing Yeon appeared beside them, his voice soft and comforting.

“Apologize to her. There’s no guarantee that you can fix what’s broken, but you have to try.”

“….”

Verdandi took a deep breath, summoning her courage. If she didn’t say it now, she might never be able to.

“I’m sorry… Mom… I’m so sorry…”

She spoke like a child, her voice choked with sobs.

“It’s okay, my daughter. I know you’ve been hurting.”

Eila and Verdandi held each other tight, tears flowing freely as the wall between them crumbled.

“Mom… I’m so sorry… It must have hurt so much…”

“No, it’s okay. It’s all my fault…”

They exchanged apologies and reassurances, finally speaking the words that had been bottled up for so long.

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As I watched them reconcile, a chill ran down my spine as a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

“Master.”

“Bi Wol, where have you been? You were a great help. Thank you for…”

It was Bi Wol. I turned to face her, reaching out to pat her head as usual, but…

“Master, do you prefer that junior sister to me?”

There was something different about her, something unsettling. It was as if she were someone else entirely.

“…Who are you?”

It was the only question I could manage.

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