Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 95.1
The place they arrived at after riding the carriage all day was a baron’s estate that had suffered damage from the corpse of a monster.
Unlike the capital, where corpses were swiftly cleared away in an orderly manner, the remote village lacked the manpower to do the same.
As the weather gradually warmed, the corpse had begun to rot. The fluids seeping out flowed into the village and mixed into the pond, which had apparently led to the outbreak of disease.
“We’ve burned all the visible monster corpses, but… considering the scale of the incident, it seems there may still be monsters left unaccounted for.”
At the baron’s words, Cielo nodded. If they had even a little more manpower, or someone good at locating corpses, it might make things easier.
Cielo rested his chin on one hand, set down the documents he’d been reading, and spoke.
“Still, it’s a relief that it’s unlikely to be an incurable disease. We’ll have to request support from the palace for water purification and corpse disposal efforts.”
“…!”
“Oscar, would it be alright to ask you to draft the official request to be sent to the palace?”
Cielo posed the question naturally, but flinched a moment later. He had spent so much time with Oscar that the request had slipped out as a habit.
“Yes, I’ll take care of it,” Oscar replied plainly, as if he thought nothing of it.
“Haa… Truly, I’m grateful to both of you. I’ve prepared a banquet this evening in your honor…”
At the baron’s words, Cielo removed his coat and tied back his long hair in a single knot as he spoke.
“Ah, please offer the banquet only to Count Pascius. I came here as a criminal, after all.”
“Y-Yes? But how can I not offer it to Lord Esteban…?”
“You know, don’t you? Why this monster incident occurred in the first place. I’ll go see the patients first.”
When Cielo asked for someone to guide him as he gathered his medical tools, Oscar, who had been quietly watching his face, opened his mouth.
“Then, I’ll go with you—”
“No.”
“…Pardon?”
“Count Pascius didn’t come here to be punished, did he?”
Cielo firmly drew the line.
Truthfully, he would have been glad to be with Oscar no matter the situation. He wished for Oscar to regain his memory as soon as possible.
But even so, he didn’t want Oscar to enter a place filled with patients suffering from a highly contagious illness.
‘He’s healthy now, but he used to fall ill quite often as a child whenever something spread.’
With that thought, Cielo asked a nearby attendant for directions. Then Oscar, wearing a displeased expression, spoke up.
“I heard your health is fragile.”
“…?”
“What if you end up getting sick while tending to the patients?”
Cielo parted his lips—not because of what Oscar had said, but because of what he had called him.
‘He always used to say he loved me whenever he said my name…’
Suppressing the ache in his chest, Cielo forced a smile.
“I’m fine now.”
“……”
“Thank you… for your concern.”
Of course, he probably hadn’t meant it as concern. Even so, Cielo turned slowly, hoping that a part of Oscar truly had meant it that way.
Since that day, Cielo had been living in a blur.
He would wake up, eat alone in the morning, and immediately go tend to patients. Once the sun had set and all the patients had fallen asleep, only then would he leave the temporary clinic.
When there were patients suffering from high fevers through the night, he wouldn’t even return to his room. He’d fall asleep there with them.
He was so physically exhausted that he didn’t have the luxury of other thoughts. Thanks to that, there was no time to feel unsettled because of Oscar, or to suffer from that dull ache in his chest.
“Con…gratulations. You’re completely better now.”
So went the two weeks.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Cielo offered his congratulations to a patient he had tended with little to no sleep.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“I got better thanks to you!”
Cielo smiled and waved at those offering their thanks as they left.
Maybe it was the two weeks without proper rest.
Or maybe it was just as Oscar had said—Cielo himself had ended up becoming the patient.
He couldn’t be certain, but the chills running through his body and the heat on his forehead were not good signs.
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