The Weight of a Promise
The Goddess Department War. The Dimensional Lord had reached the pinnacle a human could achieve on their own at the age of eighteen: Master of the 7th Circle, the realm of superhumans. It was a miraculous achievement made possible by the refined dark mana of the Great Forest Hollow and his Master’s devoted teachings. But a critical problem arose. The food his Master had stored in the subspace had run out.
The High Elf Empire and its High Elf Queens had established a permanent blockade around the hollow, refusing to lift the siege. Their intent was clear: to starve him out and kill him. The only things left to eat were moss and the occasional corpses of birds and animals that had fallen prey to the overly refined dark mana and died.
His Master’s lifespan was also nearing its end. The old man spent more and more time bedridden with illness. In the end, he had no choice but to venture outside the hollow to gather food and medicinal herbs. No matter how skilled he was as a battlefield practitioner of the Root School and a 7th Circle Master, he could not completely evade the High Elf Empire—with its population of one billion—and the High Elf Queens who had surpassed the 7th Circle.
That was why he attempted negotiation. Leaving behind his Master, who was growing sicker by the day, starving from lack of food, and tormented by the loneliness and fear of being left alone, he approached the High Elf Empire’s encirclement.
It was a desperate proposal, the first of its kind in this world. Given how overwhelmingly disadvantaged his position was, the contract he offered was absurdly unfair to anyone who looked at it.
I have no intention of opposing you and swear upon the path of magic that I have no desire to harm anyone.
If you do not attack me, I, a 7th Circle dark mage, will serve the High Elf Empire.
In exchange for a modest supply of food and medicinal herbs, I will also disclose my magical knowledge.
The High Elf Empire fell into a brief uproar. Then a section of the encirclement opened, as if inviting him in. Believing that his sincerity had gotten through and looking forward to negotiating with the breathtakingly beautiful High Elf Queens he had fallen for at first sight, he foolishly stepped into the siege.
The result was a surprise joint assault by five High Elf Queens and their elite forces.
The path back to the Great Cavity was completely sealed off. A barrage of attacks rained down on him. He barely avoided a fatal blow, his body torn apart by spirit swords, and cried out in desperate anguish.
The answer that came from the High Elf Queens was ice-cold. It was drenched in utter contempt.
"I have never done such a thing, nor will I ever! I will accept any restrictions! Just give me a chance!"
Shhhk—!
For the first time since his birth, tears flowed from his eyes. The worst possible reputation had finally caught up to him—the result of choosing the strongest black magic on the battlefield for his Master’s sake.
He finally understood why his Master, himself a dark mage, had hesitated until the very end to raise him as one.
No matter how strong one became or how much goodwill one showed, no one would believe it if the collective had already decided otherwise.
Writhing in despair, he struggled to break free from the encirclement, but he was utterly powerless. Against a single High Elf Queen of equal rank he could have dominated, but this was a coordinated assault from all five of them plus the Empire’s siege forces.
If his Master—awakened by the thunderous noise of the battle with the High Elf Queens—had not desperately torn open a gap in the encirclement, he would have died right there.
He returned to the Great Cavity in tatters. For days on end, he wailed in despair.
With only the power of the 7th Circle, he could never break through them.
The only reason his Master had been able to enter the hollow in the first place was by striking at a momentary opening before the High Elves could prepare for a lone dark mage’s breakthrough. And even that would have been impossible if he hadn’t been the leader of the Root School, renowned for the fastest speed in the world.
Even if he and his Master combined their strength, they could never break through the fully prepared High Elf Empire of the Great Forest. He instinctively realized this place would be his final resting ground.
He was doomed to live here for the rest of his life, constantly under attack, surviving on moss and corpses. All because he was a dark mage.
Although he had healed his wounds with recovery magic, his body was covered in lacerations and he kept losing his mind, howling endlessly. His Master could only watch in silence, unable to say a word.
No matter how high a realm he reached, the despair of being unable to form even an unfair contract with the High Elf Empire that surrounded him came crashing down without end. A rage with no clear target surged within him.
It wasn’t directed at those who had him trapped. It wasn’t at his Master for kidnapping him and turning him into a dark mage. Nor was it self-loathing for choosing black magic. It was simply fury at this unchangeable reality and at his own complete helplessness.
If he possessed absolute power, he could escape this place. He could take revenge on the High Elf Empire and the High Elf Queens who refused to believe his sincerity and tried to kill him.
But he could not acknowledge that rage, because it was the consequence of his own past choice to walk the path of the dark mage.
The pride of the Root School, which placed survival above all else on the battlefield, would not allow him to blame his surroundings or the environment without shame.
Everything was the result of his own choices and his own ability. Yet in this cruel reality, he didn’t know what to do and desperately craved power.
He didn’t even think about what he would do once he obtained strength. He simply wanted to become stronger. He clung to the hope that this hellish reality would improve if he did. He tried to convince himself that all of this had happened simply because he lacked ability. If he became stronger, he believed he could change the outcome he would face in this world for the better.
The Dimensional Lord of that time had screamed that he could make this world a little better, that to do so he had to become stronger, and that he would pay any price for that strength.
And then time and space froze. From another dimension, he appeared.
“Take it. It is the power you desired. Use it to advance the world.”
A boy with neatly tied black hair, a massive greatsword strapped to his back, a wooden sword in his right hand, and plain white clothes tossed him a grimoire with casual indifference. The Dimensional Lord stared at it, stunned.
It contained the 8th Circle—the realm that could turn any mage into a Lower God if they sold their very soul for it.
But his heart, already betrayed by the world, stirred with suspicion.
What do you want? Where in the world is there such a thing as favor without a price? Who would show kindness to a wicked dark mage like me?
The boy looked at him and asked if he wanted to pay a price. He answered that he would of course pay a fair price that would satisfy him. He shouted that he was not a beggar and had no need for pity.
Thinking back on it now, I want to rip that mouth of mine apart.
It was the scene from his turbulent past that made him grind his teeth the most. He had doubted a pure act of goodwill, thrown his emotions and pride around without even knowing who the other party was, and ended up driven into a desperate struggle for survival.
What could someone like him possibly need? Most of the universes ruled by Creators belong to him. He conquered everything by fighting alone. What could a mere 7th Circle dark mage possibly offer him?
So the answer he received at the time was something he could never have imagined.
“…Excuse me?”
“Of course I can do that much. Is there anything else you need?”
A faint smile appeared on the boy’s lips. The moment that memory resurfaced, the Dimensional Lord’s body began to tremble violently.
If I could truly go back to the past, I would beat that version of me to death. No—I will definitely settle this score someday.
Once he reached complete 11th Circle, he planned to return to the past and pummel himself senseless. A scream tore out of him involuntarily.
No matter how much he screamed and thrashed, the replay of his past memories would not change. An unbelievable line came out of his own mouth.
“If that is the price, then of course I will. And I will definitely help you.”
Wiiiiiiing—!
The title was engraved upon the Dimensional Lord’s divine power, and he felt a connection form. His mouth fell open in shock.
The title linked them. Information flowed through it, and he finally understood what kind of being the boy was.
He was an existence that surpassed even the Creators. Only then did he realize the weight of the price he had offered.
He had done something completely insane without understanding the situation, driven purely by emotion and pride.
I should have simply accepted the pure goodwill. Instead, my suspicion and stubbornness saddled me with a burden I could never bear.
The judgment for the Dimensional Lord’s foolish actions was handed down.
A true judgment must contain both punishment and reward. Therefore, in accordance with your pure longing, I have given you a small bit of help. However, if you break the promise of the price you yourself offered me, you will suffer the most miserable fate in this universe for all eternity. All time and space, death and annihilation, even erasure itself are within my domain. There is no escape. In praise of the courage that earned you my title, live diligently from now on.
“W-wait—! I will gratefully accept it! I was too arrogant, so let’s talk again…”
“Jinri—! I was wrong! Please, let’s talk again—!”
No wave of power, no intent, was transmitted. But having already received some of the information, he understood. If he took even one more step, it would all be over. There would be no way to undo his own foolishness.
All he could do was answer with a sobbing voice.
“I… I will do that too.”
“I… I will do it.”
The Dimensional Lord had dug his own grave with his own mouth, leaving himself no room for excuses. Even now, the memory made his teeth clench. It was the single moment in his life he most wanted to forget.
He should have simply accepted the goodwill with gratitude. Instead, because of that useless stubbornness and pride, he had run his mouth and completely ruined himself.
He had to live longer than an existence that surpassed the Creators. He had to become honorable enough to make him proud. On top of that, he had to become strong enough to actually help him.
Think about what you’re saying! Does that make any sense for a mere 7th Circle dark mage?!
But if he failed, he would break the promise he himself had made to pay the price, and as punishment he would suffer the most miserable fate in the universe at Jinri’s hands.
Just seeing a few of the examples of judgment Jinri had handed down was enough to drive one mad. And he had clearly said “the most miserable fate in this universe… for all eternity.”
All of this insanity for a single 8th Circle grimoire. The only reason he hadn’t gone back to the past to beat himself to death was that he hadn’t specified a deadline for repayment.
After that, he had no time to wallow in the sorrow of his fate. He had to learn the grimoire he had been given and become stronger.
The threat of the High Elf Empire and the High Elf Queens who had been his first love? He had to survive first—what use was first love? Eating moss and animal corpses? They were well-aged, full of nutrients, and made for perfectly acceptable food. Being trapped in the Great Cavity and lonely with only his Master for company? The dense dark mana and quiet atmosphere were actually perfect for learning magic and raising his circles. Dealing with lots of people only brought complicated relationships and headaches.
His entire order of priorities in life had been completely flipped. If he didn’t become a Lower God under his own power, he would die within two hundred years, so he threw himself into magic with desperate fervor.
If he died, he would be unable to outlive the one he had promised to repay and organize his end. He would receive Jinri’s judgment.
First, he had to avoid death. Only then could he escape judgment and avoid receiving the horrific verdict of “the most miserable fate in this universe for all eternity.”
The loss of his first love? Having only moss and rotting animal corpses for food? Utter loneliness and the world’s rejection of dark mages? What did any of that matter? If he died, it was all over.
That was the moment he opened his eyes to the true Truth of life.