The Dark Magician Transmigrates After 66666 Years-Novel

“Master. The time has come.”

The spire of Skaman Castle at sunset.

The knight wearing a black armor spoke to his master who was looking at the sunset. The master rose from his seat, rubbing his hands as if savouring the touch of the robe.

Roughly grown black hair, swayed to the nape of his neck.

“I see.”

“All that is left is me. I will look after you until the very end.”

The knight, giving out black smoke through the seams of his armor, knelt on one knee and lowered his head.

The master didn’t answer.

The sky, which had been turning red turned purple in an instant and then darkened.

Time was running out.

“Traika.”

The master called out the knight’s name.

“Please say.”

“Your final task is this…”

The master’s eyes turned purple as he said with a smile,

“… go.”

Nothing more.

However, the black mana which started from his arm swallowed Traika in an instant.

“Master!”

He cried out desperately, but the darkness drowned his consciousness till the bottom of the abyss.

When he woke up, Traika was standing alone under a bright red sky, with a different sunset.

Traika woke up from his thoughts.

Those were his last memories of him.

From that time, when he served his master with his life and till now, his mind lingered on that memory.

Diablo Volfir.

A mighty dark magician that the gods couldn’t have taken down unless they united.

Traika was the first Undead to be made in his hands. So who was this slender human in his hands now?

He couldn’t know.

From the moment he fell into the Devildom at the hands of his master, Diablo Volfir, his true name was never said.

Therefore, no one should know the name of Traika, except for the Gods, even those Gods had now forgotten of his existence.

However, a human, that too a small one, knew his name.

Traika let go of the hand around the human.

“Cough! Cough!”

Jamied rubbed his neck as he coughed.

He was held so tight that it felt like his oxygen supply was stopped.

He looked at Traika with red eyes.

“… are you Traika?”

“How do you know my name?”

Traika tried to remain calm. He wanted to split the human’s head open and read his thoughts, but this person handled the black mana of his master.

It wasn’t known how he came to know of it, but he must be well versed in protecting himself.

It would be a different case in the Devildom, but here on earth, the 12 Gods would intervene if he did something like that.

And then the entire thing would be a mess.

‘No, it is already a mess.’

From the moment the human kid with emerald hair mentioned his name, no, from the moment he was able to deal with his master’s black mana, everything was twisted.

“Answer me. How do you know my name?”

Jamie looked into Traika’s eyes. They looked the same as before.

It was expected.

The Undead do not age no matter how long time passes, so they wouldn’t change, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t corrode.

More than 60,000 years have passed, the black mana he gave was cut off.

With the black mana within, he must have survived for a long time, but living this long seemed impossible.

“… Traika.”

“Don’t call me like that! Who are you?!’

Traika couldn’t hold his emotions.

He couldn’t allow a strange voice to call the name he had forgotten for so long. The only one who could call him that was his Master who created him.

He just couldn’t tolerate this human calling him that. Unable to control himself, he grabbed Jamie by the neck again.

“Kuak!”

“Tell me. Why are you controlling that power? Where did you hear my true name?! If you don’t speak I will rip out your brain and make you confess!”

“… Me.”

“…”

“It is me. Traika. Diablo Volfir, your master. That is me.”

Traika was speechless for a moment.

What was this child saying?

His master had died. He challenged the 12 Gods alone in the past, and in the end he failed to overcome them and died.

How much did he hate himself for not being there? Everyday was hell.

It was after a really long time that he heard that his master died.

“… the legacy of my master? Are you now pretending to be him?”

“Traika. I am Diablo.”

“Impossible! Don’t try to deceive me! Master, my Master, in the hands of the 12 Gods…!”

“I got hit. I challenged them all by myself leaving you all behind and I ended up being trapped for aeons. And for some reason I reincarnated in this body.”

“Anyone would…”

“Lanfert Hill, do you remember it?”

Traika’s eyes shook.

With a puzzled look, he took a few steps back.

It was confusing.

How did this person know of Lanfert Hill?

‘Even if he has the legacy of my Master, it is not possible to know that.’

It wasn’t an important place to be remembered forever. A place Diablo Volfir briefly passed, but to Traika it was his most precious memory.

-Me… make me an Undead.

-If that happens, won’t you be forced to be loyal to me?

-Huhu. That sounds nice… come on, Master. Make me your faithful servant.

-So annoying, seriously.

-Why? Do you want me to take a knight’s oath on this Lanfert Hill?

-Sounds good, that miserable life. And at the end of my life, I might put it to good use too.

-Kuahah. Thank… thank you, Master.

Lanfert Hill.

The place where Diablo Volfir, who received his request, turned him into an Undead. There was only one person in the world who could remember it, and he was the other one.

“H-How do you know that?”

“Traika.”

“Master and I were there alone! And in the world where Master is dead, I am the only one to remember it!”

“Accept it, Traika. I am Diablo Volfir.”

At that, Traika fell to his knees. He lost strength.

The Demon King’s legs which occupied the Devildom were out of strength. It was a funny joke.

However, the dire situation was no joke.

“You know that the more you deny, the more it doesn’t make sense.”

“… because it is impossible. But as you said, the more I deny…”

Everything was proving that this little human who could die with a touch was his Master.

How could he accept it?

Suddenly, for a long time, he remembered the days of wandering around the Devildom.

The first hundred years were anguish. Why did his Master send him here?

Was it to help? Was it useful? Then, why didn’t he recover?

The next thousand years he lost reasoning.

Like a monster. He slaughtered all the demons he saw and coveted power. He couldn’t remember much of that either.

When he woke up, Traika was a Count. Normally, the black mana should have been gone, but for some reason the magi seemed to go well with it.

So he absorbed the magi and turned it into black mana.

After that, for 10000 years he began to develop his strength in earnest.

He didn’t know why, but it seemed like it had to be done.

He waged war with the nobles of the Devildom and absorbed their power.

After 10,000 years had passed, he heard news from the subordinates of his Master who were down on earth.

It wasn’t news of his Master.

It was news that the 12 Gods were erasing any record and traces of him on earth. At that time, Traika knew what to do.

‘I need to avenge my Master.’

He swore on behalf of his Master who was persecuted by those 12 Gods.

Since then, he had referred to himself as the Demon King of Lust.

All the demons there except for the subordinates laughed at him. especially the 5^th Demon King, who divided the Devildom into five parts, looked down on him.

But when tens of thousands of years passed, the situation changed.

The 5^th Demon King was good, but not the Demon lords under him. Traika killed them all. And eventually he acquired the power of the 5^th Demon King who was difficult to touch.

And the 5^th Demon King too respected him from then on. However, he didn’t develop the strength to gain recognition.

‘12 Gods! I need to insult those beings!’

The name LUST was first coined because of the identity of Traika and the essence of his power.

But the 12 Gods didn’t give a gap. They looked at each of his movements for thousands of years. So he constantly sent spies to earth to see what was happening.

A new civilization was starting.

Erasing all the history, a new castle was built in the empty world.

There, the traces of his Master, and his companions were erased. Only the 12 Gods became strong and reigned on earth perfectly.

He was desperate.

And he liked being a bad person.

A few months ago, a chance arose. A dispute between the 12 Gods.

He couldn’t miss it. He searched for ways to descend to earth and touched the greed of humans.

‘A disgusting human being who betrayed its master, clings to the 12 Gods and lives with crimes!’

The human race he respected died 60,000 years ago. Today’s humans were simply dolls made by the Gods!

And they were as hateful as the Gods.

So he made human slaves through drugs. The slaves worked faithfully to become rich.

With a little bit more, he could avoid the eyes of the 12 Gods, descend and destroy the homes of humans.

And things went smoothly.

A faithful servant, Berias, a Count of the Devildom, descended.

The process wasn’t satisfactory, but if the results were good, it didn’t matter. It was when the revenge he was lusting for came into sight.

Master, the power of his which should have been forgotten appeared.

And now, a human was claiming to be Diablo Volfir.

‘A human who claims to be Master… is this human really Master?’

He denied, denied, but the more he did, he was proved wrong.

“I am sorry, Traika.”

“… are you really Master?”

“Sorry. I came back so late.”

After a long time.

Two people who were once connected in Master-Slave relationship met again.

And without another word, they looked at each other for a long time.