CHAPTER 168
Many mages who dealt with space-time magic had conducted all sorts of thought experiments.
Most of those thought experiments eventually converged on one issue:
How do we resolve the time paradox?
Just as Karnak had wondered who created the technique known as Overkill, a paradox inevitably arises when one travels between the past and the future.
To address this, various hypotheses have emerged.
One such hypothesis is fatalism, which posits that no matter what you do, you cannot change the past. It argues that even if you think you’ve changed the past, that too was meant to happen, and thus it did.
Then there are the hypotheses of mutable and immutable history.
The idea that while minor events in the past can be changed, major fates cannot be altered.
Another is the hypothesis of historical alteration.
This theory states that the moment the past is changed, the original future disappears, and a completely new future unfolds.
And finally, there is the parallel worlds hypothesis.
It suggests that countless parallel worlds exist, with each branching out due to every small choice made, each leading to a corresponding parallel world.
Alternatively, some argued that the very existence of a paradox is clear evidence that transcending space-time is impossible.
Though, in the latter case, such a hypothesis becomes meaningless once Karnak had already crossed into the past.
Among these, Karnak supported the hypothesis of historical alteration.
When one returns to the past, the future they came from vanishes, and the continuity of space-time becomes dependent on the individual. Thus, Karnak believed that while he would live in a new timeline, he would still retain the knowledge of the vanished future.
“Based on the data I gathered while creating the space-time transcendence monolith, I thought this made the most sense.”
However, this hypothesis was discarded.
Because he had met Laficel, who came from the future.
If the hypothesis of historical alteration were true, then everything from the future should have disappeared, making it impossible for Laficel to follow them into this time period.
On the other hand, Demphis’ explanation made sense of many things.
Why had the returned servants seemed similar yet somehow different?
Why did Elezar and Demphis know Laficel, but not Karnak or Baros?
If this place was a kind of parallel world, most of the questions they’d had would be resolved.
“Even the existence of Tesranak can be explained.”
Perhaps Tesranak’s origin could have been Karnak and Baros.
But if fate had twisted, where Karnak died and Baros took him, or if someone else entirely became that figure, then perhaps they changed their name to Tesranak and continued on.
“It doesn’t really seem like me, but let’s assume that for now.”
In this case, even if Baros originally bore the fate, it’s not hard to understand how Tesranak’s path might resemble Karnak’s, since they would’ve taken on his power and body.
Even the similarity in Demphis’ mark made sense.
“Right, everything fits... mostly.”
Karnak had an uncertain expression.
But there were still unresolved questions.
***
“For starters, I don’t quite understand the existence of this reverse temporal transcendent device.”
Karnak looked back at Demphis and asked,
“You said this was created to bring people from the future on time, right?”
“You could say that’s an oversimplification, but yes.”
“And you all were randomly sent to this space-time, like the three vanguard members?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“In what way?”
Karnak frowned at the puzzled Demphis.
“You’ve already managed to send several people randomly, haven’t you? So what’s the reason you couldn’t do the same with the others?”
“Well, that’s to ensure they arrive at the right time...”
“That’s exactly what’s strange.”
Tesranak had already sent the three vanguard members and the four governors to this time period without the reverse temporal transcendent device. This implies they could do the same again.
“Yet now they insist on specifying the exact time, supposedly to synchronize everything?”
Demphis had explained that this was to expand the cult of the Dark God, but if that was the true goal, there was no need for such precision.
“You could just send people over and over, randomly.”
Chance turns into certainty when repeated enough.
Returning one subordinate in a single day is unlikely.
Karnak’s expression hardened.
“Laficel knew me.”
“What?”
“She knew me, Karnak, the damned Death King, very well.”
She even knew Baros.
She used the exact title “Lord Baros” when referring to him.
“If Tesranak sent Laficel, how does she know about us?”
***
Many mysteries had been solved. But new ones had emerged.
“There’s nothing we can do about this right now.”
With the brand of domination imprinted on Demphis, there was no way he was hiding anything from Karnak. Further questioning would yield no answers.
“Well, we should start wrapping things up here.”
Rising to his feet, Karnak glanced over at Laven.
“Oh, and I should explain a bit more about your role as a servant, Laven.”
He didn’t need to say much. After all, there was already a kind and helpful senior.
“Hey, Serati.”
“Yes, I figured this was coming.”
She briefly explained.
That Laven couldn’t betray Karnak, that he mustn’t reveal Karnak’s true identity, and that while he wasn’t exactly a slave, he’d still have a certain amount of freedom.
Laven, seemingly understanding, asked,
“I see. Were you also one of Lord Karnak’s servants?”
Unknowingly, like Serati, he was already referring to Karnak with honorifics.
Smiling wryly at the memory, Serati replied,
“I, too, was in a situation where I had no choice.”
She told him how she had lost both her arms and smiled softly.
“There are some benefits to being a servant. For one, you become somewhat immune to injury—after all, you can regenerate your limbs if they’re cut off.”
Of course, that didn’t do much to brighten Laven’s expression.
Being from the prestigious Strauss family, now becoming a servant to a necromancer? His future undoubtedly seemed bleak.
Karnak pouted.
“Don’t act like I forced you into slavery. I was originally planning to make Baros my servant again, but I gave you the spot instead, so you should be grateful.”
Laven narrowed his eyes.
“Then why don’t you just cancel my contract and make Sir Baros your servant?”
“Uh, well...”
Karnak was about to change the subject when Demphis, oblivious, chimed in.
“But would you really be alright with that? You’d die the moment the contract was canceled.”
“What?”
The response came from Serati, not Laven. Startled, Demphis turned to her.
“You didn’t know?”
Karnak and Baros facepalmed.
“Hey, Demphis...”
“Oh no...”
Serati, smiling wickedly, glared at Karnak.
“Excuse me, Lord Karnak? I think you owe me an explanation here.”
Glaring at Demphis, Karnak responded.
“Technically, it means your soul would be erased.”
Canceling the contract meant erasing the contract. But since a servant’s soul was bound to the contract, erasing the contract would also erase the soul.
That’s why Demphis had originally planned to kill Karnak to erase Laven’s soul and summon the future Laven into that body.
Though he ultimately couldn’t do so due to the brand’s influence.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Serati. I have no intention of canceling any contracts.”
Momentarily irritated, Serati relaxed.
‘At least this means he’s still somewhat human if he’s concerned about my feelings...’
Satisfied with the explanation, Karnak gave Demphis an order.
“Lift the curtain of darkness. We need to rescue the others.”