Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 70.1
Sol and Pielago had been together since the moment they were born.
“An heir born to the Esteban family—what a surprise.”
“Exactly. I thought the Duke’s jealousy was so extreme that he’d never have a successor. But I suppose he did understand the need to continue the family line.”
“Still, it’s a good thing they were born. At least the Esteban bloodline won’t end.”
All the adults who saw young Sol and Pielago said the same thing.
No one expected the Duke and Duchess of Esteban to have children. And the fact that they were twins was considered fortunate.
But what they heard most often was…
“The real question is whether those children will grow up with proper education. Especially under someone like that Esteban.”
The things adults said soon became reality for Sol and Pielago.
“Get out of my sight.”
Typhon didn’t like Sol and Pielago. Whenever he saw their faces, he would grimace in disgust. If they so much as spoke to him, he’d beat them with his cane, striking them all over.
“How dare you! You’re the ones who tore my wife’s body apart just to be born…!”
Typhon never gave the twins a proper upbringing.
At best, he assigned them tutors under the pretext that they would one day serve the family. But he never taught them anything a parent should.
Why one mustn’t hit others.
Why not everything should be solved with money.
All the things a person must know to function in society—he never taught them any of it.
“Why does Father hate us?”
In the spring when they were five, Pielago, who always hid behind Sol’s back while silently enduring scolding, finally voiced the question.
Then one day, something happened.
Pielago, having built up resentment toward Typhon, eventually lashed out at him.
“If you hated us so much, you shouldn’t have had us in the first place!”
It was a strikingly similar tone to how Typhon always yelled. No matter how many tutors you bring in, a child will inevitably mirror the parent they grow up watching.
Enraged, Typhon began beating Pielago mercilessly.
“You think I wanted to have you?! You little bastard!”
“Agh! Aagh!”
“If only I’d known earlier… I would have… I would have…!”
Typhon swung his cane at Pielago without mercy.
He forgot that the one he was hitting was his own son. He struck Pielago’s head, breaking his bones.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Father, please!”
Sol ran over and threw himself over Pielago, pleading with all his might.
Tears poured down his cheeks as he begged for the beating to stop, and at last, Typhon froze.
“Filthy vermin.”
That was when the twins understood.
Typhon didn’t see them as his children. He was repulsed by their very existence and would never love them, no matter what they did.
“It hurts… it hurts so much, Brother…”
Pielago wept, clutching Sol’s hand tightly.
The same Pielago who never shed a tear even when getting hurt worse while playing in the garden sobbed so sorrowfully this time that it was unbearable to watch.
Sol quietly shed tears too as he looked at Pielago’s face.
Perhaps they realized it then—
That the person they most wanted love and recognition from didn’t even see them as human.
A year later—
The twins learned about the existence of “mother” from one of the tutors Typhon had assigned.
“Then why don’t we have a mother?”
“According to the tutor, weren’t we born from our mother?”
“But we’ve never seen her, not even once.”
“What if she doesn’t actually exist? Maybe the tutor just made her up, like an imaginary creature?”
Flustered by the question, the tutor responded with visible discomfort.
“You do have a mother, young masters. I saw the Duchess at the Duke’s wedding. She was as beautiful as a fairy.”
White hair and warm brown eyes. A commoner and a recessive Omega, yet Typhon supposedly brought her into the ducal estate in what was called the romance of the century.
“I only know what I’ve heard through rumors, but I do know that their love was truly beautiful.”
Hearing the tutor’s cheerful tone, Sol and Pielago looked at each other.
Parental love was supposed to come from both a mother and a father. So maybe, just maybe, their mother would react differently than Typhon.
But then—
“How dare you wretches think you have the right to meet her?”
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