I Became the Terminally Ill Master of the Final Bosses – Chapter 9

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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I hadn’t given Verdandi any specific weaknesses.

She was written as the perfect, flawless Hero of Justice, her outward purity masking the darkness festering within.

She was strong enough to kill with a simple kitchen knife, and would eventually become even more powerful once she acquired her sacred sword and armor.

‘…This isn’t good.’

I chewed on my lower lip as my mind raced. The immediate problem was the critically injured woman lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from a stab wound to her abdomen.

‘Verdandi’s mother, Eila Astrea, is in critical condition. And we only have one mage who can heal her.’

I had thought I’d averted disaster by sobering up Wolfram and ensuring she was protected by defensive spells.

I had thought bringing Bi Wol, the final boss from [King of the Diamond Fist], would be enough to overpower Verdandi with sheer force if necessary.

I thought I’d created the perfect conditions for a peaceful negotiation.

But the final boss of my story was far more unhinged than I’d anticipated.

She had actually stabbed her own mother.

“You came to take me as your disciple? Are you insane?!”

Verdandi pointed the bloodstained knife at me, a chilling smile on her lips. Her blue eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity.

“Yes. I’m here to guide you down the right path. If you come with me, you won’t have to suffer anymore. You can escape the burden of being the Hero and live a normal life…”

I took a step forward, my hands raised in a gesture of peace, showing her I meant no harm.

“Ha… Hahaha! It’s too late for that!”

Verdandi laughed maniacally, raising the knife high above her head as if she intended to strike Eila again.

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

Tears streamed down her face as she screamed, all the repressed emotions she had bottled up finally exploding.

And who could blame her? I was the one who wrote her story, her suffering.

She was abandoned by the villagers, rejected by her mother, and betrayed by her own comrades in arms.

It was all my fault.

I had projected my own pain onto my writing, a cardinal sin for any author.

‘An author should use their words, not their life, to tell a story.’

I glanced at the people standing behind me.

Bi Wol would escape the clutches of the Heavenly Demon Divine Sect, finding peace and normalcy under my guidance. Wolfram would discover the Philosopher’s Stone and become a true alchemist, capable of creating real gold.

There was no need to fill their stories with unnecessary pain and suffering. I could have focused on crafting a compelling narrative, a satisfying conclusion.

“…Bi Wol, Wolfram. I’m counting on you.”

I nodded slightly, silently urging them to save Eila.

“As you command, Master.”

“Got it!”

Bi Wol planted her feet firmly on the ground.

First Stance of the Heavenly Demon Art: Heavenly Demon’s Imperial Walk.

The sheer force of her stance shattered the wooden floor beneath her feet, sending splinters flying. A deafening crack echoed through the room.

She moved with such speed that everything seemed to slow down around her, except for her own lightning-fast movements.

“Oh mountain of gold, all-encompassing and bountiful, raise a shield of golden coins, and lend me your strength to breathe life into this fragile soul.”

Wolfram seized the opportunity to chant, her staff glowing as she layered multiple magic circles, creating a thick, three-dimensional form resembling a coin.

“…Aegis of Gold!”

The moment she finished chanting, the golden magic circles transformed into a shimmering shield that enveloped Eila.

“….?!”

Verdandi, seeing the wound slowly closing, swung the knife at Wolfram’s shield, desperate to break it.

It was a brute-force approach, but given her strength, it wasn’t impossible. Even magic could be disrupted by a powerful physical force.

In this world, where martial arts and magic coexisted, the laws of physics applied to both.

“I would rather die than have a villain like that as my master!”

Sensing Bi Wol approaching, Verdandi charged, her knife raised.

She had reacted to the speed of the Heavenly Demon’s Imperial Walk. Bi Wol, caught off guard, ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade.

“I’ll be your opponent.”

I quickly shifted into the second stance of the Ice Crystal Divine Art, drawing upon all my internal energy.

The pain of my Extreme Yin Body surged through me, my meridians screaming in protest as they twisted and contorted.

‘Second Stance of the Ice Crystal Divine Art: Ice Shadow Wall.’

There was no other way. I needed to create an opening for Bi Wol to escape with Eila.

Crack!

I thrust my hand forward, a wall of ice materializing between Verdandi and Eila, separating them.

“…A wall of ice? Are you mages?”

Verdandi stared at me, dumbfounded. She had grown up in this isolated village, oblivious to the existence of the Eastern Continent and its unique martial arts.

“Master, I’ve secured the injured.”

Boom! Bi Wol, cradling Eila in her arms, reappeared by my side. Eila’s breath was shallow, her life hanging by a thread.

In the original story, Verdandi did kill her mother, but that was meant to happen much later, at the climax of the story.

“Wolfram, take her outside and treat that neck wound. I’ll handle things here.”

In the final battle, Verdandi, standing atop a mountain of corpses, would drive her sacred sword through her own mother’s heart.

Eila, torn between guilt, love, and resentment, would sacrifice herself to save the protagonist, confessing her love for Verdandi in her final moments.

Verdandi, burdened by the guilt of matricide, would finally earn the title of ‘Archvillain’, realizing the true extent of her own depravity.

Blind justice, blind rage, it would all lead to her own destruction.

The Hero who had sought to cleanse the world of evil would end her own life, consumed by despair.

The protagonist, another Hero, would look upon her lifeless body with pity, cremating her remains and praying that she would find peace and love in her next life.

‘That was the ending I had envisioned for Verdandi, the true conclusion of [You Must Kill the Hero].’

But I had abandoned the story, leaving that ending unwritten.

“But Master…! You’re not well! She’s strong, Master! Even I could barely react to her attacks!”

Bi Wol’s eyes filled with tears as she saw me, blood trickling from my eyes, nose, mouth, and even my ears. She clung to my arm, refusing to leave my side.

“A master is always stronger than his disciple, isn’t that common knowledge?”

I stroked her hair reassuringly.

Besides, if Bi Wol didn’t help Wolfram, Verdandi would eventually overpower me, even in my weakened state.

“I may not be the leader of the evil sects, like you said. And I’m certainly not the greatest in the world. Definitely not the strongest of all time.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I locked eyes with Verdandi.

“But I am a master, and I have many disciples. I may not be the strongest, but I am loved. ”

I thought about my students at the Ice Dragon Blossom Heart Sect, and the students I had taught back in reality.

The children who had smiled, who had learned and grown, who had brought joy into my life. They had taught me more than I could ever teach them.

“And I have to set a good example, for my disciples. So they can surpass me one day, so you can achieve greatness.”

Meeting Bi Wol had given me a renewed sense of purpose. My life as a failed author, a life I had deemed worthless, had blossomed into something real, something meaningful.

“You’re all talk! You’re still a villain!”

Verdandi shouted, her voice trembling with rage. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face contorted with anger.

“Why do you think I’m a villain?”

“Because… I’m the Hero…”

“…What if you’re not the Hero? Have you ever considered the possibility that you’re just an ordinary person?”

I walked towards her, slowly, deliberately, entering her striking range.

“What are you trying to say?!”

“Your abilities, the Eyes of Truth and the Scales of Justice, have two fatal flaws.”

I grabbed the knife she was holding, my hand radiating an intense cold that froze the blade, preventing it from cutting me.

“The Eyes of Truth can be deceived. If the person you’re observing truly believes their own lies, your ability will register them as truth.”

“…?!”

She struggled to pull her hand away, but the blade was frozen solid, trapping her.

“And the Scales of Justice can be tipped. A single act, whether good or evil, can outweigh a lifetime of deeds.”

I stomped my foot on the ground. A cracking sound echoed through the room as the ice spread, encasing her legs.

She was completely immobilized, unable to resist.

“Look at me. Look closely. Do you still believe I’m a villain?”

“…This… This is impossible.”

Verdandi blinked, her voice a disbelieving whisper. Her abilities should have classified me as evil.

After all, I was the one who had abandoned this world, condemning it to destruction.

But…

“Are you… really a good person…?”

I had tried to atone for my mistakes. I had saved Bi Wol, protected Wolfram, and was now doing everything I could to save Eila.

It seemed my good deeds were finally starting to outweigh my past sins.

“Yes, I am. Now, will you put your trust in me, your master, instead of relying on your abilities?”

Blood trickled from my lips, the backlash of overusing my Yin energy. My meridians were tangled, my body screaming in protest.

“I came here on a mission, a mission to save you. I was sent by a being akin to a god.”

The reader who had brought me into this world, the one who had given me a second chance, they must have wanted to see the story through to the end.

To an author, a reader was like a god.

Without them, there would be no story.

“It’s true… How can this be…?”

My words weren’t a lie. In a way, they were just as valid as any divine oracle.

“You will learn about love and hate, about the complexities of human emotions, about the contradictions that make us who we are. Just like your mother.”

“My… mother…?”

Verdandi’s breath hitched. She seemed to be listening, her gaze fixed on me, her initial defiance replaced by a flicker of hope.

“Yes, your mother. She was assaulted, impregnated against her will. What she did, trying to strangle you, was unforgivable. But…”

“…”

“…Her love for you was stronger. She confessed her sin, her shame, to you. But her words were likely registered as lies because of your ability.”

“Are you… a messenger of the Divine?”

Verdandi’s voice trembled, her eyes widening. Tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks.

“No, I’m just an ordinary person. Just like you, I’m afraid of being misunderstood, of my true feelings being rejected.”

I gently stroked her hair, a different texture from Bi Wol’s, coarser but still soft.

“Don’t worry about what the villagers think. They’re like snakes, coiled together, bound by their own wickedness.”

“Is that… really true? Does that mean… I’m not a bad person…?”

“Yes, you’re a good person, Verdandi. You may have been naive and immature, and you may have made mistakes, but it’s not too late to fix them.”

I pulled her into a gentle embrace, a warmth she had probably never experienced before.

Eila, burdened by her own guilt and conflicted emotions, had never shown Verdandi this kind of affection.

“Sob… Sob…”

She cried, tears and snot streaming down her face.

“I was so lonely… My ability showed me that Mother was evil, that even her words of love were lies…”

“There, there.”

“I was so scared to sleep next to her, knowing that she had tried to kill me… It felt like I was suffocating every night.”

“You’ve been through a lot.”

I patted her back, offering comfort. It was a lot for a child to process.

“The villagers hated me. They put bugs in my food, they spread rumors about me, saying I was promiscuous, just like my mother…”

“Your elder sister and I will take care of everything. Don’t worry. No one will ever hurt you again.”

Verdandi continued to cry in my arms, releasing fifteen years of pent-up pain and grief.

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