Ch.8Chapter 8 – Hero of Justice, Verdandi Astraia (1)

In her short life, the first words Verdandi remembered hearing were these:

“Verdandi, Mommy is so sorry…”

These were the words her mother had tearfully confessed before Verdandi could even take her first steps.

Even now, Verdandi couldn’t understand why her mother had cried while looking at her.

Because in that memory, her mother had tried to strangle her to death.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Just a little more and she would have died from suffocation.

Why did she look so sad while trying to kill her?

Why did she make such a pained expression and then release her grip?

At three years old, Verdandi couldn’t comprehend the mixed emotions of guilt and love-hate. She couldn’t understand that even an unwanted child couldn’t be killed because of love.

“Verdandi, Mommy loves you more than anyone else in this world. This is all my fault. It’s not your fault…”

That’s why Verdandi couldn’t understand why her mother apologized to her while crying.

Back then, she didn’t know she was an unwanted child born from rape, and she couldn’t accept that she had almost been killed by her parent’s hands.

Verdandi was too naive and innocent to understand adult circumstances.

– [The person before you is telling a ‘lie’.]

– [The person before you is ‘evil’.]

The window that appeared when Verdandi was close to death. She still remembered the text that had appeared before her eyes, even years later.

“Because I love you, Mommy is doing this. Please forgive me…”

– [The person before you is telling a ‘lie’.]

– [The person before you is ‘evil’.]

The translucent window that could be called the beginning of all nightmares was something she could still see even now as she grew up.

It became a milestone for young Verdandi to distinguish between good and evil, and the reason she distanced herself from her parent, calling her “mother” rather than “mommy.”

For Verdandi to understand the two contradictory emotions of love and hate, there was no one around her to confide in or understand her.

As years passed, Verdandi’s hair grew long enough to reach her waist.

“Hey! My mom says you’re the child of a whore! That’s why your dad ran away!”

And so, she came to understand how the world viewed her. Children were more sensitive to curses and provocative words than adults.

“My mom told me not to play with a dirty kid like you.”

When Verdandi tried to mingle with the village children, they pushed her away with various slurs.

Sometimes they would point fingers and mock her, sometimes throw dirt to chase her away, and sometimes torment her by putting ants on her body.

“Get out of our village! You witch!”

Her face and clothes would be covered in mud, her knees and elbows scraped and bleeding, and no matter how many times she cried and screamed, no one acknowledged her.

In this small village where rumors spread quickly, everyone knew about Verdandi’s birth. They knew that when a band of thieves attacked the village long ago, they had raped several women, causing them to become pregnant.

‘…If I try hard enough, people will realize I’m not bad!’

Verdandi tried various tactics to escape this discrimination and contempt. First, she braided one side of her hair to keep her appearance neat.

To appear friendly to both adults and children, she began habitually using polite speech instead of casual language, and took on various chores to prove to others that she was a good child.

But,

“It’s creepy. You just smile even when someone hits or teases you!”

“Haha, is that so…?”

Instead, that approach worked against her.

Verdandi became a child unable to express normal emotions. When someone hit or teased her, she would only smile, unable to show sadness or anger.

No matter how difficult things got, she couldn’t reveal her emotions. She was afraid of becoming a “bad child” again and being abandoned by everyone.

“She doesn’t even realize she’s working for free, stupidly doing chores for others! I should take advantage of her again later.”

“……”

Even knowing she was being used by others, Verdandi couldn’t speak up or properly resist.

She kept thinking that she wanted to be needed by someone, that she wanted to be able to help others.

“Verdandi, you don’t need to come to our house anymore. There are unpleasant rumors in the village…”

“Yes! Of course! I’m a good child! I won’t trouble you anymore, grandfather!”

She pretended not to care even when others talked behind her back. Despite the bad rumors snowballing, she struggled to maintain a bright appearance.

In the end, Verdandi’s goodwill was rejected by the world. No matter how hard she tried to escape this hell, there was no helping hand.

‘…Mother, why didn’t you kill me back then?’

Verdandi was on her way home after being rejected by everyone in the village except her mother, having asked them all to see the real her.

Walking in the pouring rain, Verdandi tried hard to ignore her face reflected in the puddles.

– [The person before you is ‘good’.]

Blue eyes and blonde hair appeared. The transparent window floating above identified her as a good person.

After all, no matter how unwanted a child born from rape might be, the child bears no sin.

‘Even if I am a good person, what the villagers say is true.’

Absolute judgment of good and evil.

She had an absolute standard that could determine the difference between evil and good deeds by placing a person’s life on the scales.

Because of this, Verdandi wanted to show the world that she wasn’t the bad child everyone cursed her to be.

‘…Then, aren’t they people who deserve to die?’

The abilities of the “Scales of Justice” and the “Eyes that Know Truth” paradoxically blinded Verdandi’s eyes and clouded her judgment.

Afterward, Verdandi became obsessed with the concept of “justice.” She wanted an ideal human who wouldn’t be judged as evil even by her own eyes.

Someone perfect who wouldn’t be caught as evil by her abilities.

– [Verdandi, from now on, as a hero of justice, you will punish the evil ones in this world.]

To such a Verdandi, a god appeared in her dream a few days ago.

It was an oracle from Solareon, the main deity called the Light of this World, who took the form of a lion.

“You mean me…?”

– [Yes. Your sword will behead the Demon King and drive away the darkness that exists in this world.]

Verdandi had been secretly waiting for such an oracle. In fact, she wanted to be right and the world to be wrong.

“Thank you! My Lord!”

A liberating feeling that cleared her chest. She smiled like a child tasting something sweet for the first time.

-[This is proof that you are a hero. Cherish it.]

And on Verdandi’s head, a laurel wreath made of light was placed, like an angel’s halo.

“I am a hero now! My mother who doesn’t love me is an evil person who deserves to die!”

After waking from the dream, Verdandi thoroughly prepared and calculated everything.

“I will execute justice!”

She firmly believed that she was good and everyone else was evil.

* * *

A village where golden wheat fields not yet harvested sway, and falling leaves announce the autumn scenery.

“So this is Wonderhill Village.”

I looked around after getting off the carriage, and noticed the villagers’ sharp gazes focused on us.

This village had no choice but to be closed off to outsiders. I had created it that way.

“For a rural village, the people aren’t very friendly!”

“Of course they wouldn’t be. This is that kind of place.”

This place was a hell designed solely to turn Verdandi into a twisted hero, a hell created for just one person.

“Master, where are the people who need our help? Surely you mentioned this when we departed for the West.”

“…In the back alleys, you’ll find patients suffering from epidemics, and children who sold their bodies and organs because they needed money.”

I smiled bitterly as I said this. I had written that such ugliness was hidden behind the seemingly beautiful village.

“Then the villagers…”

“Yes, they pushed the rest of the people into the back alleys just to save themselves. Even the beggars of the Open Faction know to uphold righteousness and cooperation.”

The reason Verdandi judged the villagers as evil, the reason no one pitied her, was simple.

The village chief and residents had conspired to isolate the failures in one place, living separately from them.

“…So they’re all in it together. Master, your profound insight moves me, Bi-wol, more deeply than anyone.”

Bi-wol nodded in understanding at my words. I gently patted her head as if to say “well done.”

“To think my sister is in such a disgusting place, I, Bi-wol, cannot contain my outrage. Now I understand why Master came to rescue her.”

“Well, I actually came all the way here by boat because I was worried the kingdom’s people would get to her first…”

Wolfram Alchemista tried to pat Bi-wol’s head as well, but…

“Don’t touch me. The only one under heaven who may pat my head is my Master, the number one in the evil faction and throughout history.”

No, Bi-wol. I’m not the number one in the evil faction.

I was dumbfounded by my disciple’s exaggeration. In truth, I wasn’t the number one in either category.

I could be called part of the evil faction because I came from the Five Poisons Sect.

But to call me the number one in the evil faction when the Four Great Evil Masters existed, or the greatest throughout history when Bi-wol, the vessel of the Heavenly Demon, existed…

“Plus, you even have the title of ‘Dragon’.”

“Then that means you’re on the same level as a Dragon Slayer? You must be amazing.”

“You two are embarrassing me.”

I dropped my head in disbelief and wiped away the cold sweat. I was witnessing fantasy and martial arts mixing right before my eyes.

Even though this was a novel I wrote, I thought it was too much.

“…Master, I smell strong blood scent ahead.”

“Lead the way, Bi-wol.”

As I looked around for traces of Verdandi, Bi-wol frowned and pointed somewhere.

“It seems to be over there.”

A house made of gray bricks that looked gloomy to anyone – it matched the appearance of her residence that I had written in the novel.

“Is anyone home?”

I knocked on the door with the back of my hand, but there was no response.

Strange. According to the original work, Verdandi’s mother should have welcomed Wolfram and then Verdandi would appear.

“Is anyone home? We’ve come to see the Hero!”

I felt an uncomfortable sensation like being pricked by a needle. Feeling anxious with chills running down my spine, I knocked on the door more forcefully.

Bang bang bang.

No matter how much I knocked, there was no response from inside, but Bi-wol was frowning and showing changes in her expression.

“Master, the blood scent is getting stronger. The breath of the injured person inside is getting weaker. If this continues…”

“…This won’t do. I’m going to break down the door, and if there’s an injured person inside, please help them.”

Ice-White Divine Art, First Form. Ice Breaking Fist.

When I struck the door forcefully with my fist, there was a loud crash as the door shattered into powder.

“Oh? Who are you people!”

So I, Wolfram, and Bi-wol entered the house and saw the interior covered in blood.

“…Verdandi Astraia.”

Inside, a middle-aged woman was leaning against the wall bleeding, and a smiling girl covered in blood.

“You know my name! I’m honored!”

The girl’s appearance was undoubtedly Verdandi, the final boss of the novel I wrote.

“Huh, huh… Someone, someone is dead!!”

“Not yet dead. She’s still breathing.”

Bi-wol was reassuring Wolfram, who was too shocked to breathe properly.

Verdandi was behaving differently from my original work. She should have been trying to kill the Golden Tower Master by now.

Where did things go wrong?

“Golden Tower Master, can you use healing magic?”

“Y-yes! If she’s not dead yet, I should be able to heal her!”

I calmly asked Wolfram to heal Verdandi’s mother. If Bi-wol helped her, they could save her while avoiding Verdandi’s vigilance.

“Bi-wol, help the Golden Tower Master save that woman. And then stay far away from here.”

Originally, I had planned to use Bi-wol to subdue Verdandi, but now I had no choice.

“B-but… Master…”

“It’s alright. This is something I must resolve alone.”

I looked at Bi-wol and gave her a small smile to tell her not to worry, and seeing this, she nodded and prepared to move with the Golden Tower Master.

“How surprising that an extremely evil person is trying to save someone! Are you evil too?”

“…Your ability shows that I’m extremely evil? That’s unexpected.”

The term “extremely evil” was something I had created for Verdandi to reach at the end of the novel after accumulating evil deeds.

The ending of the novel “I Need To Kill The Hero” that I had conceived but never written down.

I was going to write that she would commit suicide after seeing herself labeled as extremely evil.

“I suppose you don’t want to resolve this through conversation rather than fighting…”

“You don’t need to say that! I’m going to fight! Why are you trying to smuggle an evil person away right in front of me!”

Facing Verdandi had to be my task alone.

“I am Bing-yeon, who came from the East to make you my disciple.”

“…What did you just say?”

“I’m saying you must serve me as your master from now on.”