The Cost of Sixteen Trillion

The anxiety that had been steadily amplifying inside Almighty Hwi throughout the Otherworld War had now materialized right before his eyes. 'If the opponent is one of the 10 Centers, the full military power of the Main Universe could charge in and still have no chance of victory.' Yet somehow the contract for the Main God Tournament had already been handed over to the very opponent suspected of being one of those 10 Centers. Every basic clause regarding the tournament had already been formalized. It was merely a provisional contract the managing Main God had drawn up to negotiate additional terms and somehow tilt the situation in his favor. 'Of course it carries self-authentication.' He had paid it little mind anyway, since the plan had always been to crush the Dimensional Mage God in the tournament and exile him to the Spirit Realm. But watching that same Dimensional Mage God—who had now become one of the 10 Centers of the Absolute Realm—casually peruse the document made his blood run ice-cold. If the opponent authenticated it as written, the Main God Tournament would begin at once. 'The power gap between me and a 10 Center is a despairing chasm. I must stop this somehow and completely rethink the entire subjugation plan.'

Yet a satisfied voice burst from the grey figure instead.

The grey Dimensional Mage God lightly signed the bottom of the contract. The moment he did, fighting spirit surged outward. The pressure alone made breathing difficult. 'If he's already like this, the Creator Candidates don't stand a chance.' They could only lean heavily against the round table, barely holding themselves upright. Any battle now would end in instant annihilation. Only a Highest Creator God who had surpassed the 13th circle would even qualify to stand before him—or so the desperate calculation ran through his mind. Yet even they would never dare challenge a 10 Center, and he lacked the connections to call on such beings. The idea was pure delusion.

He tried to steady his trembling body and raise his own fighting spirit when salvation arrived from an utterly unexpected direction. A man clicked his tongue in clear pity, a blood-dripping wooden sword resting on his shoulder, and tore through space to appear beside the screen.

“Tsk tsk—! Grey, what exactly are you doing dragging the Creator Gods of the Main Divine Realm into this? In your own territory within the Absolute Realm, you may do as you wish so long as it does not contradict the karma of progress. Direct intervention in the Main Divine Realm, however, is forbidden even to the 10 Centers. At the very least, inform the Creators of this Main Universe and proceed with proper formalities.”

“Puhuhuhut—! It has been so long since I saw this wonderfully nostalgic face that I simply had to play a small prank. Seeing you in person brings fresh emotion indeed.”

The Dimensional Mage God remained draped over the Sword of Ruin and Soul slung across the man’s right shoulder.

“Oh? And what is that rag on your back? Is that truly me from the past? You have suffered greatly. Your clothing is automatically restoring itself from literal rags, yet your face and entire body—despite bearing the title of Origin—could not keep up with recovery. A complete mess. No part of you looks intact. You still maintain human form and draw breath, but the evidence of what you endured is plain to see.”

“I could not allow the Mage God to witness the shameful sight of self-destruction from lack of power again. I have thoroughly tempered and refined the body, raising it to a somewhat usable level. It should suffice as bait.”

“Kuk kuk—! I truly do not know where to look. To receive such grace once more from my past self… I am deeply grateful.”

The education of the Wind Family was renowned for its excellence. No matter the talent, it would eventually forge one into an Absolute. He had never imagined the method would be this kind of forced infusion, but the results were astonishing. A quick assessment revealed explosive growth in computational ability and bodily durability. Most impressive of all was that every single field had been pushed to the absolute limit of a Creator Candidate. 'At this level, using at least half of the Dimensional Authority should be possible.'

The Main God Tournament he had originally considered little more than a jest now seemed worth expanding. Contrary to that thought, the Origin of the Mage God glanced at the contract in his hand and spoke.

“Is that the contract for the Main God Tournament?”

“Yes. The basic content is flawless. Moreover, it has been notarized under my name as Grey. All that remains is for my past self to sign. The problem is that the price for obtaining the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right to challenge in the Main God Tournament is far beyond anything my past self could possibly comprehend.”

“How much?”

“Sixteen trillion.”

“That is truly cheap. If it grants you the position of leader of the Main Gods, there is no reason to hesitate. Don’t you agree?”

The Dimensional Mage God visibly shuddered, trembling violently. Though he could not speak, the situation had to be driving him insane. To Grey himself and the Origins of the Wind Family, sixteen trillion vitality was pocket change. To his past self—a mere Creator Candidate of the Main Universe—it was an incomparably ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vast fortune. Enough to purchase several entire Creation Realms outright. What was more, it was vitality earned by staking his life as a mercenary god. His past self, who had spent it lavishly to win the favor of subordinate Main Gods yet almost never used any for himself, would fight tooth and nail against such an expenditure.

Yet the moment the Origin of the Mage God finished speaking, the Dimensional Mage God’s actions left his jaw hanging open.

“I sign. Execute.”

“Execute—!”

The reply came with the rigid tension of a recruit shouting a slogan to a general. Then, moving at such blinding speed that even he appeared blurred, his past self leapt down from the Sword of Ruin and Soul, completed the signature, and stood once more. After a long moment, he could only utter one sentence.

“You’ve changed a lot. Since when did you start listening to your superiors so obediently? You used to bark and snarl at anything that displeased you.”

“Ahahahaha! Damn it—! Shut your mouth.”

His spirit had not been completely broken after all. He shot back with a hollow laugh. Then the Dimensional Mage God simply stared at the already-signed contract with an utterly miserable expression. 'My vitality! Enough to purchase a Creation Realm even after going to the Otherworld, and I threw it away with my own hand? What is this? Am I truly being helped here? Or am I simply being tormented? Isn’t the bloodline of Truth a bit too fair, handing out both reward and punishment together?'

Sixteen trillion vanished with a single signature. All the vitality painstakingly accumulated through countless deaths and revivals scattered in an instant. Earning it had felt like dying, yet spending it left no trace behind. Even if he became head of the Main Gods through this, he would not be able to wield real power, but the mere erasure of his previous crimes could be considered worth the price. Still, the opponent was Almighty Hwi, who had mastered the Incomprehensible Eight Founders and rendered most magic useless against him. 'Winning somehow would be fortunate, but defeat would mean being subjugated again as a criminal.'

He wanted to rip the contract to shreds immediately, yet those around him would never permit it. Compared to them he was weak; he could not even freely use what he himself had earned. Realizing this was the reason he had fought with everything he possessed in other people’s mercenary battles—earning the title of the worst and most vicious Mage God—he trembled for a long time in self-loathing.

Yet the so-called encouragement from his future self was utterly ridiculous.

In the end, watching the grey figure roar with laughter, the Dimensional Mage God’s eyes slowly filled with rage. His future self was clearly enjoying the sight of his present self walking a path of thorns. He was grateful the man had not charged at him like a doppelganger intent on murder, yet he could not understand why his suffering brought such joy. The incomprehension only fueled his anger further.

“Grind… Shut up—! Why did the bait have to be Almighty Hwi of all people—! Don’t you know that thanks to the Incomprehensible Eight Founders his compatibility with the Mage God is the absolute worst?”

“Kahahahahahat—! I need to repay old debts while I’m at it. Besides, there is no better bait than Almighty Hwi. He has mastered the Incomprehensible Eight Founders, after all.”

He said the words, yet other opponents could have been chosen. But with the very Almighty Hwi who had once killed him and banished him to the Spirit Realm dangling before his eyes, restraint was impossible. 'I am Grey. I am the Origin—neither good nor evil. My authority is judgment and choice rather than forgiveness and tolerance. I cannot simply overlook the one who made me taste death. If only you had emerged a little later, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could have accepted the Main God Tournament myself and swept everything away. It seems my emotions are transmitted directly to the Origin of the Mage God who manifested me. It looks like I must leave the revenge to my past self. That is the path appropriate for Grey.'

The grey face that spoke such rationalizations was smiling, yet the memory of being helplessly slaughtered by the combined assault of Almighty Hwi and the Sage of Omniscience surged up. The instant he saw it with his own eyes, he truly wanted to kill them all. 'Had the Origin of the Mage God not sensed those feelings and intervened, that is exactly what would have happened. However, that would not have been Grey’s revenge.'

Too easy a revenge leaves lingering attachment and long regret. That is why one feels hollow and meaningless afterward. Only by watching his past self defeat Almighty Hwi in fair and square combat could the heart now torn to shreds and burning in flames be calmed. Until then, teasing his past self was merely entertainment. 'How should I put it?'

Most of him hoped his past self would succeed—unlike the version of himself who had been defeated by Almighty Hwi, dragged to the Spirit Realm, sold off by the Golden Absolute, annihilated, and even had his remnants erased by the Black Flame Absolute. Yet the opposite feeling also existed. 'Watching my past self succeed keeps making something inside me boil and seethe.'

It was not some doppelganger’s curse; Grey had long since erased such trivial instincts. In truth, the gap between the current Dimensional Mage God who had reached Creator Candidate and himself as Grey was so vast they could hardly be called the same person. 'The present Dimensional Mage God is changing not only in power but in disposition as well. In the past he would never have made such a bold contract—spending sixteen trillion vitality at once merely to obtain the challenge right for the Main God Tournament.'

His past self had been a greedy fool who, unable to utilize the Wind Star properly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had fused it with Seongmyeol so it could not be used at all rather than let anyone else have it. Yet despite the coercion, the fact that he had signed of his own will represented a massive shift. 'These changes accumulate and either delay or weaken fate.'

Even after signing, the man looked ready to burst into tears from regret, proving he was still far from escaping the fate of erasure. At best he would be caught by the Golden Absolute and annihilated; therefore he needed even more external help and guidance toward change. The more painful and difficult the process, the greater the eventual transformation. It could not be stopped.

He listed many such reasons, yet the dominant emotion behind them all was simple: 'It hurts when your cousin buys land.''I will give help, but never for free. Then what does the version of me who suffered to death and was erased become? Nothing but a pathetic fool? The assistance of Grey and the bloodline of Truth must be repaid at a harsh price. Kuk kuk—! So that is why Truth bestows both reward and punishment together. Since neither sympathy nor free meals exist, there is no burden no matter what one does. Grow strong enough to somehow weaken the fate of erasure. Only when you become one of the 10 Centers can I finally disappear from this hellish present world.'

It had not been long since the most vicious Mage God—who had rampaged like a nightmare across battlefields for the sake of survival—had begun to desire death. 'Everywhere I went there were only enemies. No matter how hard I worked, merely maintaining the status quo was difficult. Had Truth not imposed the restriction that should he die before me, he would turn me into the most miserable wretch in the entire universe, I would have already taken my own life.'

Now that his future self had become one of the 10 Centers, that promise had been fulfilled and released, but there was no need to inform him. With a mischievous smile, Grey simply snatched the Main God Tournament contract that his past self clutched with a look of world-ending despair, underlined the sixteen trillion vitality application fee, enlarged it, and began to tease him.

“Uwaaaaaagh—! Get that away from me—! You bastard—!”

It had definitely not been thrown away for nothing. The Dimensional Mage God—who had been desperately convincing himself that winning and becoming head of the Main Gods would make the price worthwhile—finally snapped. A moment later he charged at Grey in a frenzy. Of course he was no match; he received fresh wounds atop old ones and collapsed to the floor. Yet he recovered instantly, sprang up like a roly-poly toy, and charged again. And again. Watching the farcical scene in blank amazement was none other than Almighty Hwi himself.