Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 4.1
“M-Master!”
Cielo hurriedly covered his mouth. But he couldn’t swallow the blood that was quickly filling his mouth, and thick drops of red leaked through his fingers.
‘…It hurts.’
Why does it hurt this much?
‘Could it be that this kind of pain comes from using the ability?’
But there was no one who could give him an answer to that question.
“I-I… It’s my fault. I didn’t treat him properly, and now Master is…”
Oscar’s tearful voice came through. With his head deeply bowed, he looked completely convinced it was his fault.
No, it’s not.
Cielo couldn’t be sure, but he knew the pain he was feeling had nothing to do with Oscar. Still, Oscar kept bowing his head again and again.
As if it were his own sin.
Suppressing the throbbing pain in his chest, Cielo shook his head and said,
“It’s not your fault.”
“B-but…”
“I… huff… bit my tongue by mistake.”
“…Sorry?”
Oscar blinked, his mind blanking out for a moment as he looked back and forth between Cielo’s face and the floor.
‘Would biting your tongue really make you bleed that much…?’
He was sure he had read otherwise in the books. Besides, the blood Cielo had coughed up wasn’t clean—it was dark and clotted.
Seeing Oscar’s doubtful expression, Cielo wiped the blood from his lips and added,
“I healed it right away after biting it. It was half torn off but I reattached it. Look, it’s completely fine now.”
Cielo stuck out his tongue to show it was perfectly normal.
Oscar had the urge to ask if it was really true, but forced the question down. Whatever Cielo said, it wasn’t something to be doubted.
“Since the treatment is finished, I assume there’s nothing more I need to do?”
Cielo turned to the attendant who had brought him.
“Huh? Y-yes… that’s right.”
“Then I’ll be going now.”
As Cielo rose from his seat, over a dozen pairs of eyes turned and locked onto him. Some looked shocked. Others had their hands over their mouths, stunned.
From beginning to end, none of this behavior resembled the Cielo they usually knew.
“What is it? Is this some kind of spectacle?”
Feeling the growing awkwardness, Cielo let out the words flatly and turned his back.
* * *
As soon as Cielo and Oscar left the infirmary, the room, silent just moments before, erupted into noise.
“W-what was that just now? I heard Lord Doberman hit Lord Esteban’s head. Did he hurt his brain or something?”
“Lord Esteban treated Doberman…? Aren’t those two supposed to hate each other?”
“You saw it too, right? I’m not imagining it? He had blood all over his hands and clothes and didn’t even flinch?”
People were clearly shaken.
What shocked them the most was the fact that Cielo Esteban had treated Doberman.
The usual Cielo would’ve made a disgusted face just hearing Doberman’s name. But now, not only had he refrained from making such a face. He had willingly healed him without complaint and walked off.
“…He must have an ulterior motive.”
“Right? Otherwise there’s no way—”
While the whispers spread among the people, a groan came from the man Cielo had treated.
“Lord Doberman!”
The man slowly sat up and looked over his body. He had been on the verge of death just moments ago, yet strangely, he didn’t feel any pain.
After a long pause, the man, Ryan Doberman, finally spoke.
“…Since when was Pascius this skilled?”
The moment he said it, everyone around shook their heads and began explaining what had happened while he was unconscious.
“Cielo…?”
Ryan’s crimson eyes trembled slightly. Of all people, Cielo had healed him? It was hard to believe.
Yet the deep chest wound no longer hurt at all. Even the tremor in his left hand—a lingering aftereffect of an old injury—was gone.
It wasn’t the kind of wound that could be healed so easily. And if it hadn’t been for Cielo, no one else could have done it.
“Cielo…”
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