Grand Mage, Possessed (1)
Suddenly, without warning, I was dropped into another world.
A hazy memory from the past now—right after graduating high school, becoming an adult, and getting accepted into the university of my dreams, that's when it happened. No precursor whatsoever; a pitch-black hole simply appeared before my eyes and swallowed me whole before I could even dodge.
The place that unfolded before me was none other than the Eldrion Continent. A so-called 'fantasy' world.
In Eldrion, 'magic' and 'miracles' that we'd only imagined on Earth truly existed. Fireballs bloomed from people's hands, folks soared through the skies without any devices, and superhumans who could shatter boulders barehanded walked the streets. A truly fantastical world.
At first, I was thrilled at the thought of arriving in the fantasy world of my dreams. But that excitement faded exactly three days in. The romantic allure of this otherworldly realm vanished, leaving nothing behind.
From my perspective, this place was a special world utterly different from where I'd lived. But to this world, I was just a rootless outsider who had plummeted from the sky one day. With the language barrier on top of that, there was no way someone like me could adapt easily. A few days later, I was penniless, reduced to begging on the streets.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—Eldrion was home to such a diverse array of races that my inability to communicate or my outward differences from the locals didn't raise much suspicion. And so began my first year wandering the streets as a beggar.
Through desperate eavesdropping, I finally picked up enough basic conversation to land a job. I worked as an errand boy at a rundown inn, enduring grueling labor for barely any pay. But even that was a glimmer of hope, a step toward a better life back then.
Another year passed there. Then came the turning point in my life that I'd never forget.
……
My master was a mage. Not just any mage, but a powerhouse renowned across the continent.
I still don't know, even after all this time, why someone like him was staying at a cheap inn frequented by commoners. But for whatever reason, he lodged at the inn where I worked and made a request to the owner.
"I'll be staying quite a while, so it'd be nice to have a kid to attend to me in the meantime."
"Aigoo, sir mage, I'm sorry, but our inn doesn't have that kind of—"
"Payment like this."
"I'll fetch someone right away!"
Even for an ordinary mage—let alone one of my master's caliber—the owner himself should have stepped up, not some lowly servant like me. But the owner was reluctant to deal with him directly, so naturally, I ended up handling my master's needs.
In a world where tales of nasty mages chopping off heads for the slightest offense were commonplace, the owner's reaction was perfectly self-preserving. It would have been even wiser if it didn't involve offering up an inn servant as tribute.
The owner unhesitatingly dragged me before my master as the sacrificial lamb. Even I, who hadn't been in Eldrion long, knew enough of mages' infamous reputations. I absolutely didn't want to do it, but...
"Boss, I'm really scared."
"Don't wanna? Then get out."
"Attending to guests is my specialty."
I had no choice but to swallow my tears and accept, lest I get fired from the job I'd barely landed.
Surprisingly, the gig turned out manageable. Contrary to their reputation, my master wasn't ill-tempered at all—quite patient, in fact—and he even showed consideration for a mere inn errand boy like me. It felt like being treated like a human being again after so long.
Having dealt with every sort of person during two years of scraping by, meeting my master was like a ray of light piercing the gloom. Naturally, I put my all into serving him as best I could. He must have liked that, because one day, he made me a proposal.
"Why don't you become my disciple?"
There was no reason to refuse. Even if his kindness so far had been a facade and he planned to use me as a slave or guinea pig, it had to be better than my current lot. I accepted without hesitation.
And so another ten years passed. I trained under my master. Fortunately, I had a knack for magic. Not genius-level by the era's standards, but enough to proudly call myself a mage.
My master never demanded lofty magical achievements from me, but for the sake of my lifelong benefactor and teacher, I pushed myself relentlessly. By the time I'd reached a level where I could claim to be a proper mage,
he said to me,
"My disciple, it seems the time has come. Go out and see the world on your own."
"Am I getting kicked out?"
"Nonsense. You'll be my disciple for life."
"Then why say this all of a sudden?"
"What else? It's time for you to stand on your own. You can't stay under me forever."
"I wouldn't mind if I could."
"I'd like that too, but... keeping you cooped up here feels like doing the world a disservice."
"?"
"Something like that. Anyway, go... and visit sometimes."
Tragically, that turned out to be our last meeting. My master vanished without a trace. It wasn't murder or anything like that. He had reached lofty heights as a mage and wasn't one to fall easily in battle. There were no signs of combat wounds, and his dwelling was pristine, as if he'd simply been erased from existence.
All that remained in his abode was a single note, presumably in his handwriting.
"Something came up. I have to go somewhere far away. Don't worry too much. Live your life."
I only discovered it two years after setting out on my own. If there was business to attend to, he could have at least said goodbye. My master through and through—he had no knack for reading people's hearts.
……
My journey continued afterward. Even without my master's guidance, my path remained the same. I saw much. Colossal beasts at the world's edge, floating islands in the sky, a giant slumbering in the eastern mountains like a range itself, grotesque mutants breathing in the deep ocean.
Through countless trials and connections, twenty years passed. By then, I had become a fairly well-known mage.
……
Not long after my fame spread, I settled in a suitable territory. It wasn't about lording it over others now that my name carried weight. After years of travel, I needed dedicated training to fully assimilate what I'd gained. One must learn to empty oneself after accumulation. As a mage and as a person, it was essential—and that's what my master had taught me.
Unfortunately, the landowner's daughter didn't seem too fond of me, but I'd have to deal with that.
Another ten years flowed by. Then war broke out.
……
I prided myself on having seen and experienced much. I was confident little could surprise me anymore. That illusion shattered before the war.
In the massive storm sweeping the continent, people died all too easily. An nameless passerby I'd brushed past on the road a week ago was pierced by a soldier's arrow. The walking companion I'd met three days prior lost his head to a knight's blade during a raid. The neighbor with whom I'd exchanged gifts just yesterday burned away without even a corpse to recover.
All of it displeased me greatly. So I dragged my cloistered body out the door.
……
Another twenty years passed. The war ended.
The world hailed me afterward. I had become a grand mage.
……
War takes much. But civilization always builds anew upon its ruins. Even if countless things fade into history's shadows, people take up the plow and sow seeds atop the scars.
Another ten years of tending those wounds, waiting for flesh to knit. When throngs sang my name and I ascended to a position none on the continent could touch,
a thought suddenly struck me. I should return home.
……
In truth, the idea of going home had lingered for ages. I'd merely shelved it in a corner of my heart for various reasons. The surroundings lay devastated by war; no city or nation stood unscathed. Supplies and capital couldn't flow properly.
Magic fundamentally relies on the mage's skill, but attempting novel feats or surpassing one's limits demands commensurate resources.
The principles of Dimensional Shift had never succeeded even once in Eldrion's long history. No, its very existence was dubious. Without someone like me, the theory might never have arisen from necessity.
Thus, I had to start from scratch. Even as the continent's undisputed grand mage, building a new theory from the ground up was no easy task.
Only after the war ended, stability returned, and my wartime merits granted unlimited support did possibility emerge.
Thereafter, I toiled in research for Dimensional Shift. And on the twentieth year of that pursuit—seventy years since falling into this world—I finally completed the spell.
……
The farewells were not brief. Seventy years total. Longer than a single lifetime, I'd forged countless bonds, intended or not. Saying goodbye to comrades-in-arms and even former foes alike wasn't easy, but I didn't want to slight anyone.
Many regretted my departure but understood my longing to return, so they didn't try to stop me. I was grateful for that. A minor scuffle arose midway, but it resolved well enough.
Finally, the day of departure arrived. Amid a throng of well-wishers, I stepped onto the dimensional shift circle.
"Well then, I'm off. Take care."
With those final words, I activated the magic circle. I was sucked into the rift between dimensions.
My long-lost home, after so much time. How had it changed? Pre-shift observations showed significant alterations, but I'd only glimpsed fragments, so certainty eluded me. Dimensional time axes might not align perfectly either.
A mix of anticipation and unease, then darkness swallowed my vision. The sensation of crossing dimensions hit, followed sharply by the feel of solid ground underfoot.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. What I saw was...
A massive explosion filling my entire field of view.
".......Huh?"
BOOM---!!
……It was a novel welcome, to say the least.