The Black Mage's Judgment
The vast Great Forest trembled as ten radiant magic circles blazed behind the black-robed figure, illuminating the skies above the Middle World. Every sentient being across the realm screamed in terror.
“Aaaaargh—!”
“Kyaaaaah—!”
A colossal sphere of blood-red light materialized beside the figure, and the truth of what it contained struck them all at once. Trapped within the sphere, only the head of a monstrous being protruded, its three pairs of enormous horns revealing its identity. It was the Demon King—the most feared existence in the Middle World.
“Aaaah—! The Demon King! It’s the Demon King!”
“They’ve summoned another one!”
The humans, whose information networks were chronically slow due to the sheer scale of their world, cried out in panic. Every time a Demon King was summoned, the weak and numerous humans suffered the greatest losses. Cities protected only by fragile walls made for easy hunting grounds; humans could neither fly through the skies nor burrow into the earth, nor outrun the calamity.
Even a Demon King summoned into the Middle World as a Spiritual Being with only one-tenth of its true power could not be defeated by any human transcendent or army alone. Only a hero blessed by the gods could stand against such an entity. Ten years ago, a Demon King had evaded the heroes by warping through space, slaughtering billions in smaller human settlements and plunging the world into despair. The consensus across the Middle World had been that the end was near—until the heroes, guided by divine revelation, finally cornered and destroyed it within a city whose space had been sealed.
Most sentient beings knew of the Demon King’s devastation only from afar. Yet now, that same terrifying being floated behind a black-robed black mage whose ten magic circles shone brilliantly. The mage turned to regard the Demon King and raised a hand to his chest.
“You’re sentenced to death. Gigantic Meteor.”
“Krrraaaaaagh—!”
The Demon King’s scream echoed across the Middle World as though it stood right before them. At the sound, every lesser being froze in terror. The sphere of blood suddenly expanded hundreds, then thousands of times in size. It did not merely swell. Its surface grew uneven, began to rotate, and churned violently from within. The Demon King’s head howled without end as its body was ground apart from the inside.
“Kaaaaah—! Just kill me already, O great black mage—!”
The Demon King’s agonized cries reverberated throughout the Middle World. The sight of an absolute terror that had devoured countless lives and souls being so pitifully slain by a single black mage left every witness paralyzed in stunned silence.
With a thunderous rupture, the massive sphere of blood collapsed inward. From its base, crimson liquid poured downward until what remained was a colossal, blood-drenched star. The star vanished in an instant. When the black mage reappeared, an enormous quantity of blood was being sucked into the spatial rift he had opened at his side.
Thud.
Something fell at the mage’s feet. He picked it up and continued speaking.
“The Demon King’s blood will serve me well.”
What he held was the severed head of the Demon King, its face still twisted in unbearable agony. The screen filling the sky had shown the fearsome Demon King exploding into nothingness at a single gesture from the black mage. A chilling silence seized the Middle World. No one could speak. They could only stare blankly upward, skin crawling.
“This is what became of the two Demon Kings you summoned, black mages.”
The black mage raised his other hand. Another Demon King’s head dangled from his grasp.
The sight was so grotesque that silent screams rose unbidden in every throat. Not one, but two Demon Kings—absolute terrors of the Middle World—had been reduced to nothing but severed heads, still writhing and shrieking in pain. They had lost all dignity and pride as Spiritual Beings, thrashing helplessly in agony. The sentient beings who witnessed this unreal scene felt their minds teeter on the brink of collapse.
“You dared to summon Demon Kings and challenge me, the founder of the black mages. How do you intend to pay for that insolence?”
The black mage’s icy voice rang across the Middle World. Every black mage felt his gaze upon them and trembled violently.
“Of course, you would never willingly pay the price. So I shall collect it by force.”
With a casual flick of his fingers, countless beams of light erupted across the Middle World. Black-robed figures began appearing on the screen one after another—every black mage of the fourth circle or higher capable of summoning demons, and every black mage currently contracted with a demon race. In total, one million, two hundred and three thousand, two hundred and ten individuals had been forcibly transported before him.
The black mage’s killing intent surged, born from the unbearable resentment he felt toward those who had accumulated negative karma and caused him endless trouble.
“I will ask once more. How will you pay for challenging me?”
At the murderous tone, the black mages dropped to their knees in panic. Their animal instincts told them the supreme black mage intended to slaughter them all—just as cruelly as he had dealt with those who had opposed him before.
“A tenth-circle black mage actually exists?”
“He killed manifested Demon Kings so effortlessly… This can’t be real.”
Even amid their shock, the black mages desperately searched for a way out. They were moments from judgment at the hands of a mage who had casually slain Demon Kings. Escape was impossible. How could they speak, what could they say, to survive this trial?
They reached a despairing conclusion: the founder of the black mages had never spared anyone. Since gaining power, he had killed on a whim and raped whenever desire struck. When strength was lacking, he had sacrificed countless humans to form contracts with demons. The very founder who had lived so viciously now stood before them—and there would be no forgiveness for those who had challenged him with summoned Demon Kings.
“A black mage contracted with a demon race can never surpass the demon they are bound to. Black mages who cannot advance are worthless.”
The faces of the contracted black mages drained of all color. It was not the accusation itself that terrified them, but the realization that followed.
“A higher-circle black mage would never speak falsehoods. Then… the reason my circle has not risen is because of the contract with the demon race?”
“That can’t be—! No such clause existed in the contract!”
After forming a contract with a demon race, a black mage’s circle would rise by roughly one level, and their mana would become more than twice as strong as an ordinary mage’s. But afterward, circle advancement would halt completely while mana alone continued to grow. Countless black mages had researched the phenomenon, even consulting Demon Kings, yet no answer had ever been found. Now the truth had been revealed in a single sentence, and the contracted black mages shook like leaves in the wind.
Some conversed with their contracted demons. Others wept in despair. For those who lived for magic, circle advancement mattered more than their very souls.
“I rushed into a contract with a demon race out of impatience instead of slowly raising my circle through effort. And it was a trap all along?”
“After the contract, I spent my entire life desperately trying to break free of this circle.”
“I offered every sacrifice the demons demanded and committed every atrocity imaginable—only to learn it was the demons’ fault?”
The demon races they had believed to be their only allies had been the true enemies blocking their magical advancement. The ruthless black mage continued.
“Even without a demon contract, mana obtained through war-forbidden corpses or lives taken without proper compensation also prevents circle advancement. Black mages who wield impure mana—excluding fighting spirit and killing intent—are useless.”
The faces of the necromancer-type black mages turned ashen. They had always wondered why no mage among them ever surpassed the fifth circle, and why the rare high-ranking mages were almost always those who had survived long-term employment on battlefields. Now they understood. The impure mana gained from casually robbing graves or slaughtering the weak had trapped them at low circles for life.
“Even after realizing your deviation from the truth, you refused to seek the reason to the end and twisted it to suit your convenience. Those who do not pursue knowledge are obstacles hindering the development of black magic.”
More and more black mages collapsed, strength leaving their limbs. Some despaired at their demons’ answers. Others tore at their hair, regretting the easy path they had taken to accumulate mana. Their fear of the tenth-circle black mage was gradually being overshadowed by bitter regret over their own foolishness. The sight of black mages weeping and screaming was broadcast without mercy across the sky, throwing the sentient beings of the Middle World into confusion.
“Are those pitiful, sobbing wretches truly the merciless black mages we know?”
The black mages they knew were heartless villains who desecrated corpses and summoned Demon Kings to commit mass slaughter. Never had they seen black mages weep like fragile humans. Pity almost stirred—until the black mage delivered his merciless verdict.
“Some worthless, useless, and ignorant black mages dared to challenge me, the founder of the black mages. As founder, I pronounce judgment. The worthless shall have their contracts with the demon races forcibly severed and their souls annihilated. The useless shall be slain and turned into skeletons for eternal labor. The ignorant shall have their knowledge forcibly extracted, leaving them as imbeciles. All black mages who challenged the founder of the Root School shall be processed with Anti-Karma.”
The Middle World froze in horror at the ruthless sentence. Even death—the worst outcome and final peace for living beings—could not serve as sufficient payment. The idea that mistaken study of black magic could warrant the annihilation of one’s soul, transformation into a skeleton for forced labor, or reduction to idiocy transcended every law of the sentient races. And the term “Anti-Karma” was entirely unfamiliar.
“Any defense?”
None of the black mages moved. The moment they saw the supreme black mage, they understood he would never tolerate them. Their only lingering regret was that no pioneer had ever shown them the correct path of magic as he had. Yet they also knew they themselves had never shared their magic with others.
“Those who glimpsed even a fragment of the truth never formed contracts with demons. They also refrained from absorbing the vitality of corpses and the life force of the living.”
They had pursued black magic for their own convenience and lived solely for themselves. This was where that path had led them—to this judgment seat. Now they would receive the same merciless judgment they had once inflicted upon others.
“There is none. However…”
The highest-ranking among them, a seventh-circle necromancer, forced the words out.
“Please allow us to leave behind our magic.”
A storm of mana erupted from the black mage’s entire body, and killing intent sharp as blades radiated outward. Nearby black mages screamed as they were hurled away. The seventh-circle necromancer desperately anchored himself to the ground and cried out.
“Kuh—! We are still mages! Even if we walked the wrong path, we devoted everything to magic. At the very least, allow us to pass it on to our disciples! Aaaaargh—!”
The necromancer who had reached the level of Transcendent vomited blood and was flung backward by the violently surging mana. In that moment, he felt with crushing clarity that even a Transcendent could never oppose a tenth-circle black mage.
“Denied! All corrupted black magic shall be completely erased. You who relied on others, fed upon their sacrifices, and rode upon their wills are not black mages.”
The black mage’s cold, mana-infused voice began to echo across the Middle World.
“A black mage is not one who seeks to become stronger than others through evil deeds. A black mage is one who challenges the laws themselves and turns the impossible into the possible. Those who have sullied the name of black magic—vanish.”
The ten magic circles behind the black robe blazed with intense light and began to spin furiously. The black mages’ eyes, filled with despair, now shimmered with awe. There stood the black mage who had reached the very pinnacle of magic they had so desperately desired. They had sacrificed their youth, sold their souls, and turned their backs on humanity to reach that height. And now those brilliant circles of magic shone before them—only to become the instruments of their own destruction. The regret was unbearable.
“Anti-Karma!”
Magic Type: Spirit Magic / Resurrection of the Dead / Restricted Law Magic, All-Purpose Wide-Area Attack
Effect: One of the highest-tier spells capable of partially interfering with karma itself, transcending the ninth circle. In exchange for summoning and materializing vengeful spirits filled with such resentment that the caster must relinquish their own positive karma, the spell exacts a karmic toll. Those subjected to this magic are slain in the flesh by the materialized spirits in proportion to the negative karma they have accumulated, then resurrected through the resurrection of the dead, enduring endless vengeance until the vengeful spirits are satisfied. Once the vengeance concludes, the soul is annihilated by the excessive resurrection of the dead, erasing the very existence of the target and leaving nothing behind. The vengeful spirits, having resolved their grudges, do not ascend to the Divine Realm. Instead, they offer the caster positive karma as payment and re-enter the cycle of reincarnation in the Middle World. Since grudges recognize neither good nor evil, no being can escape this spell. It is renowned as the most cruel yet fair magic, feared by all existence. There is only one way to avoid it: never create vengeful spirits.
— After the first manifestation, the protagonist’s single line is best left unsaid.