Chapter 178
Chapter 178
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 178
Chapter Title: Episode 62: The First (1)
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Traika lowered his head.
Silence hung between them for a time.
Jamie quietly waited for him.
A moment later, Traika raised his head and looked at Jamie.
"What happened? Why did you send me to the demon realm back then?"
"...I didn't know that place was the demon realm."
Jamie recalled that time.
"Back then... all I could think about was separating you and the others from me. Defeat was certain."
He had failed to kill Zenith in their final battle.
That had been his last chance.
If he had slain Zenith, the Twelve Gods would have been reduced to eleven, and they would have struggled to handle him with that empty seat.
But he had failed, and the Twelve Gods had become complete.
He had sensed defeat.
If he had gathered all his strength to fight, he might have held out a bit longer.
But it would only have delayed the inevitable—the outcome wouldn't have changed, and all his subordinates would have died tragic deaths alongside him.
"I didn't want that."
Diablo hadn't viewed his creations as mere tools. They had fought too many battles together for that.
His creations were family, comrades, friends.
Even if he died, he wanted them to survive somehow.
So he had ordered all his familiars and undead to leave. The command was absolute, so they complained but couldn't disobey.
Traika alone had been the exception.
—I will perish at my lord's side. So even if you order me to leave, I will refuse. That is the privilege my lord granted me.
The Dark Knight, whom he trusted like the three great familiars he had created.
The undead knight who always led the vanguard on the battlefield was the only one not bound by commands.
He had set it that way for victory in the war, certain they would defeat the Twelve Gods.
But when the situation worsened, there was no way to send him away. So he had chosen to transport him to another dimension.
He hoped Traika would live out his life until the black mana was exhausted.
"I never imagined the place he'd end up was the demon realm. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. In the end, it allowed me to meet my lord again."
As he said, if it hadn't been the demon realm, the black mana would have run out long ago, and he would have perished already.
In the end, crossing into the demon realm had been the right answer. An infuriatingly wretched world, but still.
"But that body..."
Traika scanned Jamie's small frame.
Compared to his past life, it was utterly unimpressive. Strong for a human, perhaps, but there were plenty stronger among humans than his current lord.
"What do you plan to do? With a body like that, there's no chance of revenge against the Twelve Gods..."
"Traika. This body has only just begun."
"What do you mean?"
"It's been eight years since I was born. I've been properly building my strength for less than a year."
Traika's eyes widened at those words.
If that power had been achieved in less than a year, it changed everything.
'Even with memories of his past life, to stand against Bayros on just a year's worth of training!'
Bayros, a demon count under him and a demon dragon, was a demon of immense potential.
He had inherited half the blood of a dragon and half from a demon who had once risen to marquis.
A demonic talent that could reach marquis rank with just a century of training.
Yet Jamie had clashed with Bayros after less than a year of cultivation.
'If he'd fought properly, it would have been impossible with his current power.'
Traika glanced at the two humans outside the Chaos Ocean.
With their help as well, even Bayros would have been in real danger.
"As expected of my lord."
"No need to flatter me. Even so, my current power is still insignificant."
"But if you've reached this level in a year, won't you recover your peak strength within ten years?"
"Traika."
"Yes, my lord."
Even after reuniting after over sixty thousand years, Traika treated him as his lord just as before.
Jamie was grateful for that attitude. In his weakened state, it wouldn't have been strange if Traika had tried to devour him instead.
"What happened to you? I know you went to the demon realm, but how did you gain such power?"
Traika was now a demon king.
He had been a high undead, a Dark Knight, powerful in his own right—but far short of matching the Twelve Gods or a demon king.
What had happened in the demon realm for him to become a demon king?
'In my current state, I can't even gauge Traika's power.'
One thing was certain: his presence rivaled even his prime self.
"I can't summarize it briefly. It was that long a time."
Unlike Behemoth, who had endured by sleeping for tens of thousands of years, Traika had endured over sixty thousand years with eyes wide open.
If he weren't undead, his mind would have shattered long ago.
"I understand."
"I'll transmit my memories now."
Traika touched his temple with his index finger.
When he pulled it away, purple threads fluttered out from his head.
"It's too vast; I couldn't include everything."
"Even if I were in my past life's form, I couldn't handle over sixty thousand years of memories."
"True enough."
Traika chuckled softly and slowly directed the purple threads toward Jamie's head.
Jamie's vision flashed, and Traika's memories began scrolling through his mind like a panorama at high speed.
Having reviewed them all, Jamie was speechless.
'...You endured so miserably.'
Even this compressed portion was a history of endless struggle.
Fight, kill, eat.
Repeating only that.
To survive, to grow stronger, to get revenge.
He had endured countless humiliations and swallowed his rage.
It was a time of endurance.
All for his master, Diablo Volpir.
Jamie looked at Traika.
The calm gaze meeting his was no different from before.
'After such harsh years, you haven't changed a bit.'
He must have wanted to perish—known it would be far easier.
Jamie had no words.
Belatedly, guilt washed over him for his irresponsibility.
He felt sorry for Behemoth, for Jörmungandr somewhere out there, and for any other subordinates who might still live.
"Thank you."
He had no desire for lame excuses.
He simply bowed his head to Traika, who had acted solely for him.
"M-my lord!"
As Jamie suddenly bowed, Traika approached in surprise and straightened him up.
"Please don't."
"No. You've suffered so much for my sake."
"...I believed that was what a loyal retainer should do."
Loyal retainer.
Jamie felt a pang in his chest.
He didn't question why it hurt.
He had erased emotions, but now he knew better.
'It was just self-hypnosis in the end.'
He had only believed he had severed them.
So he rejected and denied everything.
But over the past year, through various events, he had slowly realized.
'Emotions are alive.'
Even now, he felt guilt and gratitude toward his subordinates through this heart.
The feeling when he first saw Rebecca, when Riki threw himself to save him, when he sent off Bena—all of it.
Past life and this one were different.
The path and actions would all change.
He had decided as much.
"Traika."
"Yes, my lord."
"I will kill the Twelve Gods."
"A righteous declaration."
"But not now."
Everything was lacking.
He had just broken through the 7th-class wall, barely at the starting line.
His past life's power had transcended even 9th class.
Only then could he stand equal to the Twelve Gods. But even that was far short of achieving his goal.
"If you have orders for me, command me freely."
"Not yet."
"Pardon?"
Jamie raised his hand and gripped the black mana.
Traika looked up at his lord.
His sharp eyes rounded, his dry black hair turned to silky emerald strands.
His height shrank without question, his deep voice replaced by a child's tone.
Yet Traika saw his past self overlaid on that small frame and gentle face.
"When the time comes, I'll call you myself..."
Jamie said, lips curling up.
"We'll fight together then."
No more alone.
That was an insult to his subordinates.
He had realized too late.
Traika nodded at those words.
"Words I've waited tens of thousands of years to hear."
"Thank you again for waiting."
"I will stand by my lord until the end."
The bond between lord and retainer was reforged, stronger than ever.
Siegfried gazed at the massive black sphere that occupied more than half the isolated space.
A torrent of power, unlike anything he'd felt before, emanated from the ominous black sphere—enough to send chills down his spine just by looking at it.
Approaching it felt like his soul might be sucked in.
"To think Jamie created this..."
Deeply shocked, Simon ignored the ominous aura and drew close.
"It's dangerous."
"Being here is already dangerous. Getting closer isn't on that level."
Siegfried agreed it was sound reasoning.
He looked up at the sky. At some point, the purple-tinged heavens emanated an equally chilling dread.
As Simon said, nothing could be more dangerous in this situation.
He had been curious about the black sphere himself. With no way back anyway, it didn't matter.
He followed Simon to the sphere's side.
"Incredible mana. Or is this really black mana?"
"I'm not sure. What is certain is that it feels entirely different from the black magic we've known."
"I want to run all sorts of experiments."
Simon was a die-hard experimentalist.
The type who wouldn't be satisfied until he'd tested everything.
Siegfried, a pragmatist, had no desire to dismantle the black mana.
But as a pragmatist, he felt the urge to touch it directly.
"7th Elder. Even if you're tempted, don't. You could really die."
Unknowingly, Siegfried had brought his fingertip close to the sphere.
A little closer, and it would have touched—something surely would have happened.
"...Thank you."
"Skip the thanks. More importantly, I have no idea what's happening inside."
"The interior is a completely independent space. I can't peer through with my magic."
"Even 7th Elder's spatial magic can't pierce it. Jamie, that kid is..."
What secrets did he hold?
The two archmages furrowed their brows.
"But he'll be safe, right?"
"If he were dead, the magic would have unraveled."
The black sphere persisted.
That meant the caster was still alive.
Magic was sensitive; even slight mental disturbance from the caster could disrupt it.
Of course, exceptions existed—like when an opponent's superior skill seized control.
The demon dragon had been terrifyingly powerful, but not enough to wrest the spell from Jamie.
That's why they could remain calm now.
'Losing reason and rampaging when we can't intervene anyway feels off.'
But if Jamie had fallen?
Siegfried clenched his fist. Nails dug into flesh, blood trickling.
Unbearable rage surged at the mere thought.
Simon felt the same.
They silently watched the black sphere.
Then—
"It's cracking!"
With Simon's shout, fissures began spiderwebbing across the black sphere.
Crack—crack! Crack!
Like a hatching egg, purple light leaked from the cracks.
Simon and Siegfried backed away, ready to deploy spells at any moment.
The sphere shattered completely, and purple energy swept through the isolated space.
"7th Elder!"
"Yes!"
Siegfried swiftly formed seals, dividing the space into sections to contain the purple energy.
Simon prepared to flood the isolated areas with fire.
If an enemy survived, he'd burn it to ash.
The two archmages stared intently at the sphere's former center.
"...Phew."
A familiar sigh.
Siegfried's eyes widened round.
"Looks like he'll live."
From where the purple energy cleared, Jamie quipped dryly, flashed a weary smile, and began plummeting.
"Young Master!"
Siegfried rushed forward with a bright grin to catch the falling Jamie.