The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 246

Volumes 1-4 + Side Stories of DMS are available uncensored on ko-fi! ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Her half-hearted suicide attempt had just set off his trauma.

Jaha hesitated. The memory of the Emperor—losing his mind each time his slave, Yoo Jaha, attempted suicide—flashed through her mind. But that had felt more like a dream than reality; she’d never truly experienced it while fully conscious like this…

“Haven’t I been punished enough? Still not satisfied? Then change the method. Don’t aim for your life—aim for mine. Stab me with that fork. Gouge my throat, pierce my eyes—I’ll take it without resisting. If even that’s not the answer, then tell me—what the hell else do I have to do to make you stop?!”

His voice, first a scream, gradually warped into a desperate plea. The agony pouring out of him was so vivid, so intense, it felt like needles stabbing relentlessly into her skin.

Even though one hand alone was enough to immobilize her, he deliberately used his other to encase her fist—still clutching the fork—between both of his.

The posture was almost prayer-like, but there was no reverence in it. Instead, his tear-filled eyes churned with venom, resentment, and something else—an inexplicable sense of betrayal.

“Say something. I don’t understand—so tell me. Why… why won’t you stop? I rewound time, didn’t I? So why hasn’t anything changed?! I did everything you asked—so why?! This world was remade for you…”

Before Jaha could process his words, a panorama of images unfolded before her.

Like a video on fast-forward, the hollow gaps between her memories filled in. The noise obscuring the Emperor’s face cleared, revealing familiar features. Then, as if someone had yanked the timeline backward, her memories snapped to a single point in the past.

“I’ll do as you say. Tell me what I should do. How can I ease your heart, even a little? Please, tell me.”

“Can you catch an arrow once it’s left the bowstring?”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Somewhere, the sound of a massive clock’s second hand turning backward seemed to echo.

“Unless the clock turns back and everything I’ve endured is erased as if it never happened, my heart won’t change.”

Like a drowning person finally breaching the surface, Jaha gasped violently for air.

Too many memories had flooded in at once, leaving her mind in chaos. It was like overeating—her psyche couldn’t digest it all. And as the scenes flashed by, her emotions kept shifting so rapidly that she could no longer tell what she truly felt.

Misery would rise, only to be overtaken by fury. Before she could unleash that anger, sorrow crashed over her. Before she could drown in it, biting shame burned through her skin, making her wish for death. And before she could even sink her teeth into that shame, a hollow void filled her chest instead…

In the span of a single moment, her emotions cycled endlessly—like swapping masks—leaving her dizzy and disoriented. But the hardest thing to bear was the final truth.

So this entire situation… it was all because of those careless words she’d spat out back then?

“Ha…”

That magic circle he’d been drawing so intently, even as rebels stormed the palace—it had been a spell to reverse time. That’s why he hadn’t fled. Because that future was going to disappear anyway.

Holding her captive in a state where she couldn’t die, only visiting occasionally while she slept like a thief stealing glances—it was all because he’d been too busy researching time-reversal magic.

The pieces clicked together, and every hair on her body stood on end.

“Ha. Ha.”

Jaha laughed like a madwoman.

Those words had been meant as a final, absolute rejection. “Unless the sun rises from the west.” “Not until dirt fills my eyes.” An impossible condition, a demand to give up. And yet—he’d actually done it. He’d reversed time. That absurd, unthinkable act… he’d gone and accomplished it.

“I knew you were persistent… but to this extent…”

Disgust coiled in her stomach. It was nauseating. Revolting.

Maybe this was self-inflicted?

A calamity she’d brought upon herself?

If—just if—she hadn’t said those words, would things have been different? If, instead of making it about reversing time, she’d simply sworn never to forgive him, even in death?

But it was a pointless hypothetical now.

Shoving aside useless regrets, Jaha forced herself to consider: Was she responsible for this?

It hadn’t been a vow or a wager—just an offhand remark. So did she really have to bear the weight of it?

‘No.’

Others don’t live their lives strictly keeping every word they utter either. Everyone speaks with a forked tongue—no, even ten tongues—so why must Jaha alone treat her words as worth a thousand gold?

No matter how much this man turned back time because of a single word from her, lost his magic as a result, and ceased to be emperor, it was all his own foolish choice. Yoo Jaha had no obligation to take responsibility.

If anything, wouldn’t the cruelest revenge be to laugh in his face?

To mock him—did he really do something this absurd just because of one careless remark? It wasn’t even a firm promise of forgiveness, just empty words, yet he bet everything on them, lost his precious magic, and fell from the throne. Too bad his gamble failed, but her feelings hadn’t changed…

Yes. That’s it. The only weapon she had was her sharp tongue.

With finely honed words, she would grind his hopes into dust, reducing all his efforts to nothing.

Finally, the time of judgment had come.

Steeling her resolve, Jaha met his gaze—ready to drive the dagger in.