The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 288 - Winter of the Beastkin Maid (3)

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Chapter 288: Winter of the Beastkin Maid (3)

——Late Autumn——

Standing in these woods, Eir always remembered her first autumn evening here with the Young Master—though when she’d asked him about it earlier, he’d acted like it was unimportant, something he’d forgotten.

That day, the ground was thick with fallen leaves, the sky a dull white. Nothing in the air but the occasional flash of a passing bird.

“I... I don’t want to be out here! I was almost done with this Chapter...”

That day, the Young Master had been dragged out by Aunt Susan to “get some exercise,” forced to set aside the magic book he’d been absorbed in. He looked utterly miserable, trailing behind, kicking pebbles as he walked.

And then...

Just after entering the woods, trailing at the back, he’d encountered a monster.

What kind?

Eir remembered clearly: it was just a lone juvenile Phantom Ice Wolf.

She hadn’t been so “strong” back then. She didn’t have such powerful weapons, and Young Master’s training had barely started—just a week in. She was still just a scrawny, newly “healthy” little maid.

Faced with even the weakest monster, she’d have only known how to brawl, barely able to withstand a few hits.

She only remembered the sight that still broke her heart today:

A skinny Will swung his dagger but was half a beat too slow—knocked aside by the monster’s claws.

A frail Will raised his staff, chanting a spell aimed at its weak spot, but the fireball formed too slowly. The impact threw him back.

And finally...

An exhausted Will sat gasping on the ground. At that age, such exertion—casting magic after physical struggle—had drained him completely.

He tried to stand, arms trembling against the earth, but his feet slipped, sending him back down.

“Hah... Hah... Hah...”

Gasping, unable to speak, his eyes fluttered shut as he collapsed into her arms.

——First Snow——

Eir set down her shield.

Here, in this painfully familiar place, the memory pressed in again, sharp and vivid—

Her ears caught the monster’s approaching footsteps.

Her nose caught its scent.

Her mind knew the Young Master was facing it.

`It’s fine.`

She turned.

She wasn’t that girl anymore. She knew this was why she existed by his side—

The Young Master who’d been frail since childhood, winded by the slightest exertion.

The Young Master who, practicing magic, often exhausted himself, needing her to wipe his brow as he lay in bed.

The Young Master who, starting school, was always getting scrapes needing her soft tongue to soothe.

All of it was etched in her memory, in her reflexes, in her mind.

If he were ever in danger, she would throw herself in front of him without hesitation.

Training to endure heat, mastering the ancient defense magic Rimefrost Phalanx, becoming the party’s steadfast vanguard—everything she knew, understood, believed utterly...

`The moment the Young Master faces an enemy is the moment he needs me most!`

`The moment the Young Master is in peril is the moment he needs me most!`

`The moment the Young Master is badly hurt is the moment he needs me most!`

This is what Will taught her.

So so so—

Now, facing a mere monster, she could close the distance in a flash, shield his fallen form, swing her shield, and crush its skull. Just like that...

Alongside the fear, the rage, the worry... Eir felt—

`Joy.`

Just imagining a helpless Will behind her, sitting weakly, watching her stand tall, letting her turn and say, “Leave the Young Master to Eir!”

...That joy surged through her.

The same joy she felt shielding him from the witch’s attack.

The same joy she felt rescuing him from the evil Empress.

The same joy she felt hearing him praise her protection.

Because this was where he needed her most. Where he’d never abandon her. The deepest bond they’d shared all these years!

“It’s alright, Young Master. Please leave the rest to Eir...”

——Midwinter——

Sssssschk.

In the blinding sunlight, the boy who was once weak, clumsy, slow to react—moved.

When the beast lunged, a speed she couldn’t follow. A dagger flashed. Its claws sliced clean off.

`Young Master... since when could he move like this?`

BOOM.

The next moment, the boy whose magic was once slow to ignite—lifted a beautiful staff. Aimed at the beast’s head. Light blazed through the forest. Its body evaporated on the spot.

`Young Master... since when could his magic be this potent?`

“Looks like a piece of cake.”

Then, the boy who’d collapse gasping after such danger—stood calm and relaxed, dusting his hands. Unscathed. Breathing steady.

`Young Master... since when could he handle such threats with ease?`

“Y-Young Master? Are... are you alright...?”

She’d asked, already knowing the answer.

She didn’t need to ask. One look at his flawless coat, unruffled expression, confident smile—she knew—

He.

Perfectly.

Unaided.

Had won against a monster that once would have hurt him.

Won brilliantly.

His smile was radiant.

Not like the smiles they’d shared lately. This was pure joy—pride in his own growth.

“Yeah, a monster of this level? I can handle it myself...”

——Deep Winter——

Yes.

Since when?

Not when Carver told her the Young Master didn’t need her...

Not when the Young Master vanished with “Mr. S”...

Not when he led teams into dungeons...

But when she fell in love with the Young Master who pushed forward endlessly, leading everyone onward, driven by unwavering goals and ideals...

She knew. One day, the frail, helpless boy would grow strong. No longer needing her shadow at every step.

She should have known. The Young Master who wrote those excited letters to “Mr. S” sharing dungeon insights. The Young Master who lit up discovering a new spell in school. The Young Master who savored every expedition, guiding more teammates onward...

He couldn’t stay confined to this cottage, tended only by her, forever.

No reminders. No retelling. No hints needed.

The truth lay naked before her—

`He Can Handle Everything Himself.`

`He Doesn’t Need Your Protection Anymore.`

“Eir... what’s wrong? You seem... off? You...”

Will stepped close, bending slightly, brushing aside the hair hiding her downcast eyes. His gaze met her grey irises.

“Why are you crying?”

“Eir... crying... crying?”

“Were you worried I’d get hurt? Is that why?”

Will didn’t seem to grasp the real reason, gently wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t be scared. See? I’m perfectly fine. Unharmed. Stop crying... though you are cute when you cry.”

He’d learned a little about comforting girls since then, thumbing her tears away softly.

“Young Master, yes... I’m... so glad you’re safe. Eir... Eir is happy. Truly... deeply happy. See? Tail’s wagging~.”

She’d thought rescuing him, bringing him to this secluded cottage, becoming his “hope”—he’d stay by her side, just as described.

`[“When he’s most alone, stand by him. When he’s in danger, shield him. When he’s at his weakest, touch his face. People seek reliance only when loneliest, most afraid, most vulnerable. Make him know: without you, he cannot live.“]`

Now, it seemed... even that wouldn’t keep him?

Of course.

Eir’s thoughts were always the simplest.

No matter where the Young Master went, from the moment she saw him at the Hysterm gate...

`She` couldn’t survive without him. She’d plunge back into that endless, inescapable winter.

“But... Eir, you... your tail doesn’t seem to be wagging...”

`Ah, so sharp~.` He’d noticed her facade so quickly.

She couldn’t accept the parting hidden beneath this false happiness.

“No, Young Master, you must be mistaken.”

She stepped toward him.

In her mind, she combed through the 300 Questions for Going Dark. Nothing matched her heart now.

Good. She understood.

From the first day memorizing it, the Young Master told her: “When your heart understands something the book doesn’t teach... you’ve mastered it.”

“Eir, you...”

He froze. Time seemed to stop. He stood rigid. Words unfinished.

Eir embraced his frozen form.

“Question 301 of the 300 Questions for Going Dark.”

She spoke softly in his ear, mimicking Will’s instructive tone.

“If you see a future of parting and obsolescence, and refuse to accept a world where you grow distant... what should you do?”

“I...”

“Will Stop Time In The Past.”

——Winter’s Grasp——

Then, in the now-clear winter air, her breath frosting white, her tail began to wag—forcing faked fervor.

“Winter’s truly come, Young Master.”

“So cold.”