Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 40.2
Countless people have died at the hands of monsters.
Some were crushed to death by overwhelming strength, while others were torn apart by fangs.
However, the greatest number of casualties came from none other than the poison in the monsters’ claws.
Once the venom enters a wound, it spreads rapidly through the body.
If the injury is close to the heart, death follows in as little as two hours—or five at most.
So the poison had to be expelled immediately.
“No,”
But Oscar flatly refused, gripping Cielo’s hand tighter.
“Don’t be stubborn, Oscar.”
“…”
“If you’re worried about my body, don’t be. I’m fine. So let yourself be treated.”
Cielo spoke firmly, trying to pry off the hand Oscar had wrapped around his own.
“That’s the only thing you’re worried about?”
“…What?”
“Why does my Lord keep forgetting that I’m no longer a child? That I’m an Alpha?”
Oscar clenched his jaw and curled his hand into a fist. Blood welled from the gash.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“What if the treatment triggers a heat cycle?”
“…”
“Do I still look like a lamb just because I pretend to be meek in front of you?”
His voice echoed through the cave, seething with fury through gritted teeth.
Cielo flinched like a criminal caught in the act, his body tense. Oscar let out a bitter laugh and continued.
“If things go wrong, once I recover, I’ll pounce on you. Even if you cry and beg me to stop, I’ll force you down and tear into you again.”
Oscar growled as his hand slid down to Cielo’s lower stomach.
“Get a grip. The person in front of you is a beast who goes wild just from smelling an Omega’s scent.”
Oscar spewed those cutting words and turned his head away as if he no longer wanted to talk.
Yet, even then, he still held Cielo by the waist to keep him from sitting down on the cold cave floor.
Cielo, who had been silently turning over Oscar’s words, finally spoke.
“Even if the treatment does trigger a heat cycle, I still want to heal you.”
He knew what it meant to be intoxicated by pheromones, to lose composure.
He also understood what kind of state Oscar might be put in once he caught the scent directly.
In this world, those with distinct biological traits are blessed with superior strength and abilities—but also cursed with weakness to pheromonal influence.
“…Do you understand what that means?”
“I do.”
At Cielo’s reply, Oscar lifted his hand and roughly grabbed his chin.
“Then go ahead.”
“…”
“If something happens, it’s your responsibility. You ignored my warning.”
Despite the sharp threat, Cielo gently tapped the back of Oscar’s hand as if telling him not to be so defensive.
“I didn’t ignore your warning. It’s just that… to me, healing you comes before any situation that might follow.”
“…”
“I’m sorry, Oscar.”
From the beginning, there was never a choice to make.
He only hoped that Oscar wouldn’t carry guilt over what might happen next.
Placing his hand over the wound, Cielo drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.
If there were to be side effects, he hoped they would take the form of pain or blood—anything but stimulating pheromonal reactions.
‘I didn’t want to make things harder for Oscar because of my scent.’
Even the punch to the stomach the other day had been tied to his pheromones.
The tension between them hadn’t fully settled yet. He didn’t want a similar incident to stir things up again.
That might be why Oscar was being especially sensitive now.
“Haa…”
As Cielo exhaled slowly and channeled his energy, a bright white light burst forth.
The wound, torn into three ragged gashes, began to close, and the blackened skin slowly returned to its original hue.
Thump.
At that moment, his heart pounded violently.
Cielo doubled over and clutched his chest.
“Haaah…!”
A sharp breath tore from his lips.
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