Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]

David stepped into his chamber. The room, though built with a modern design, carried deliberate traces of antiquity. The chandelier above swayed ever so slightly, casting shifting shadows of classic furniture against the walls, as though welcoming the arrival of something uncanny.

The bookshelf trembled violently, porcelain ornaments crashed and shattered on the floor, and a chair slid back as if shoved by an invisible gust. The curtains flared uncontrollably, giving the impression that the entire chamber had been caught in an unseen storm.

Three hooded figures stood in formation, facing one another in a closed circle. Their hands were raised high, channeling streams of energy toward the center between them. Streaks of shadowy light crept across the air like glowing veins, wrapping around their bodies and pulsing with every whispered chant. The waves of power they released made the wooden table groan, crystal glasses rattled upon its surface until they toppled and shattered into glittering fragments.

Suspended in the very heart of the circle floated a humanoid figure with medium length-wild silver hair. The dark robe covering its body rippled with violent force as the combined energy of the three figures kept it in the air. The body shook uncontrollably, hair flaring and thrashing like strands caught in a raging, invisible storm.

Its skin glowed faintly dark-white, its eyes wide open yet vacant, mouth agape in an unearthly scream. The shriek echoed, bouncing off the walls of the chamber, amplifying the oppressive atmosphere. The sound of breaking glass, splintering wood, and falling objects merged with the cry, creating a symphony of chaos that pressed heavily on the chest.

The three robed figures fought to restrain and calm the being at the center. Veins bulged across their temples, sweat dripped down from beneath their hoods, and their bodies trembled as they endured the torrent of uncontrolled energy pouring out of the figure. The floor beneath the circle cracked apart, shards of wood splintered upward, and the very air churned into a miniature maelstrom.

”Kareeza!” David’s voice tore through the chaos. It was hoarse, laced with both frustration and desperation. He stepped forward half a stride, fists clenched, his gaze trembling as he witnessed the havoc that threatened to spiral beyond control.

The floating figure flinched at the sound of his voice. Its awareness seemed to return—faint at first, then gradually steadying. The light in its eyes dimmed, its tense body slackened, and the waves of darkness that had been raging violently began to ebb, calming with each passing breath.

Sensing the change, the three restrainers slowly released their spell. The moment the binding faded, the figure collapsed gently onto the floor.

David first approached the trio who had subdued the chaos.

”Well done, Aliena, Sonu… and you as well, Sir Hosan,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of a leader praising his loyal subordinates.

The three lowered their heads in acknowledgment, silently greeting David’s arrival.

In the dim light, their forms became clear—humanoid beings with dusky skin, sharp eyes that gleamed like blades, and elongated pointed ears. They were not ordinary humans, but dark elves, a branch of djinn that carried both power and mystery.

”Huaah… this brat is a real nuisance,” complained one of them—Aliena. She was a slender dark elf woman, her height almost matching David’s. Her obsidian-toned skin glimmered faintly under the swaying light, and long silver hair spilled from beneath her hood. Though her face was youthful, her sharp gaze betrayed tension and lingering irritation.

”Ugh… she’s impossible to control once she goes berserk. Lucky you arrived just in time, Young Master David,” said another—Sonu. Male dark elf. He appeared closer in age to David as well, his build more muscular, with a firm jawline and his pointed ears fully visible. His serious expression clashed with his tone, which sounded more like a sulking teenager, like Aliena.

The last, Hosan, a male dark elf, remained silent for a moment, simply observing David with a calm intensity before speaking. He was taller than the other two, shoulders broad, exuding an aura of quiet authority. Long gray hair was neatly tucked within his hood, and faint lines around his eyes hinted at greater age and experience.

”Young Master David,” Hosan finally said, his voice steady and low, ”Kareeza’s outbursts pose a danger to your identity in this household. What would you have us do?”

David did not immediately give an answer. Instead, he placed a firm yet brief hand on Hosan’s shoulder, a thin breath escaping his lips. His eyes still wandered across the chamber, scanning the wreckage left behind by the earlier storm of power, before shifting his steps toward Kareeza, who was still curled on the ground, slowly regaining her full consciousness.

”Sappe is handling the matter right now. I just hope he’s still safe.” David spoke without turning to them, his voice even yet laced with weight. ”Aliena, Sonu, provide backup for Sappe. He’s being hunted down by Uncle Acok. Even if he manages to escape, he’s still under the effect of that drug.” The order was given in a casual tone, but the undertone of tension was undeniable.

The three dark elves stiffened at once at the mention of that drug. Hosan’s body tensed while Aliena and Sonu exchanged a quick glance, unease flashing in their eyes for the briefest moment. They knew exactly what David meant—an alluring substance that granted instant bursts of energy, yet carried devastating side effects.

”As you command, Young Master,” Aliena and Sonu replied in unison. They pulled their hoods tighter, and the shadows beneath their feet widened, blending seamlessly with the darkness of the floor. A faint whisper, like the hush of the wind, accompanied their movement. In the blink of an eye, both disappeared into the black veil, racing off to join Sappe in his struggle against Uncle Acok and Dedy.

Hosan, however, felt something far more unsettling. He stepped forward, almost raising his hand to speak, yet faltered. A strange ripple of energy in the air sent shivers crawling down his skin. His instincts screamed at him—there was something unnatural, something foreign moving around David’s chamber. His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing, as though trying to pierce through the lingering darkness that cloaked the room.

But before he could voice his concern—

”Cough… cough… huuuhhh…” A weak cry mixed with coughs escaped Kareeza.

She slowly pushed herself upright. When her gaze lifted, David was already before her. What appeared was a small dark elf girl, delicate in frame, her silver hair cut just to her shoulders. The strands caught the faint glow of the chandelier above, shimmering as though alive.

Without the slightest warning, she leapt into David’s arms. Her tiny body, light as a drifting feather, clung tightly to his neck.

”Daaaavid!” she cried out with glee, her voice brimming with relief at his presence.

David staggered slightly under her sudden tackle but did not shake her off. Instead, he held her close, his embrace firm, almost as though he was trying to soothe himself rather than her. His eyes lingered on her face for a long moment before he finally spoke.

”You really…,” he exhaled, half in exasperation, ”Why did you suddenly lose control like that?”

Kareeza puffed her cheeks, her small face flushed with defiance, blinking rapidly like a child unwilling to admit fault.

”What do you mean, big bro David? That woman hit you—how could I just sit there and do nothing?” she retorted, pouting like a stubborn child locked in an argument.

David understood her grievance, but discipline was necessary.

”No, you shouldn’t—” he began, only to be cut off.

”That woman was mean. She deserved it,” Kareeza snapped, her lips pursed in a sulky frown.

David sighed, weary from her obstinate nature. He lowered her gently to the floor and brushed his palm over her head. The simple gesture was enough to make Kareeza brighten. Her silver locks swayed under his touch, and a faint smile softened her lips.

”Kareeza, listen to me,” David said, bending down so their eyes met.

She tilted her head, still pouting, her tiny fists clenched at her sides. Her anger hadn’t yet dissipated.

”That woman will be your sister in the future. You must not harm her. Understand?” David coaxed her the way one would a human child, even though deep down he knew such words would hardly tame a djinn.

Kareeza folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. Behind her, the curtains swayed gently, as if echoing her defiance.

”But why does she like that boy who hurts you? She slapped you because of that bad boy, didn’t she?” she pressed, referring to Yura siding with Al.

David froze for a moment, irritation flickering in his chest. The memory of Yura’s tenderness toward Al—her willingness to slap David for his sake—gnawed at him bitterly. A surge of anger threatened to surface, but he knew unleashing it here would only provoke Kareeza into another frenzy. Swallowing hard, he turned his face away, wrestling down the urge.

”That… you don’t need to worry about it,” he muttered.

But Kareeza’s dissatisfaction only deepened.

”Then I’ll punish them both,” she declared, her body rising into the air once more. Energy vibrated wildly around her, her silver hair lifting in the current. A faint violet glow flickered in her eyes, mirrored by the magical tremors running along the walls. The intent was clear—she was ready to erase Al and Yura from existence as though they were mere insects.

Panic jolted David. He lunged forward, gripping her slender arm tightly, desperate to hold her down. His body bent awkwardly, almost collapsing under his own weight, as he fought to keep her anchored by his side, suppressing a disaster before it began.

”Kareeza, stop. You’re impossible to reason with,” he hissed in frustration.

Exhaling sharply, David turned to Hosan.

”Hosan, give me the fruit,” he ordered, his voice edged with urgency. With no better solution at hand, he resorted to the one thing that could calm her.

”As you wish, Young Master.” Hosan’s voice was steady as he reached inside his robe. The faint rustle of cloth accompanied his movements before he revealed a strange fruit—a purple orb resembling an apple, but crowned with three sharp thorns. His wary gaze never left Kareeza as he handed it over.

David pricked his finger, blood welling before dripping onto the fruit. He winced faintly; even this small act seemed costly. His blood shimmered with a dark, ominous energy as it seeped into the fruit’s skin.

At once, a pungent sweetness filled the air, sharp and intoxicating. The scent spread quickly, overwhelming the chamber, tugging at the senses of all nearby. Kareeza’s eyes widened in instant fascination, her anger swept aside by hunger. Drool formed at the corner of her lips, her gaze fixed hungrily on the fruit.

Reluctantly, David placed the offering in her eager hands. She devoured it without hesitation, savoring it with childlike delight. Within moments, her small body slumped, overcome by the fruit’s power. She collapsed onto the floor, unconscious, yet her face remained serene as though she had drifted into the most peaceful of dreams.

David looked down at her with narrowed eyes. Irritation and unease clouded his expression, as if her very presence was an unwelcome burden. For a fleeting moment, he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to cast her aside.

But in the end, he exhaled slowly, lifting his gaze to his own hand. The wound on his finger had already closed, healed by his passive regeneration skill.

”Tch… because of that orphan, I had to spill a drop of my blood,” he muttered, cursing Al with bitter contempt, as though that single drop was worth far more than Al’s entire existence.

Outside David’s room...

Even when it’s clearly not my fault, I’m always the one who ends up being blamed. Al muttered this in the silence of his own heart.

He stood with his arms crossed, leaning casually against the outer wall right beside David’s window, his stance calm yet unyielding. From where he was, he could both see and hear the commotion unfolding inside. At some point, he had already changed into his black combat attire—the kind that blended perfectly into shadows. His face was hidden beneath a mask, leaving only those glowing crimson eyes exposed, eyes that gleamed like embers refusing to die out even under the pale light of morning.

The dawn air was crisp and chilling, carrying with it a thin veil of mist. Al’s gaze cut through it, sharp and unrelenting. Those burning red eyes reflected a faint glimmer, like smoldering coals challenging the warmth of the rising sun itself.

Because of the havoc stirred up by Kareeza, the protective barrier that usually veiled David’s room had been destabilized. That collapse made it much easier for Al to perceive everything happening inside without the need to force his way in. The barrier—once firm enough to hold him back—had been weakened further by Dedy’s earlier assault, cracks spiderwebbing through its magical weave until it barely functioned as a shield at all.

Al drew in a long, steady breath. His shoulders lifted ever so slightly before easing down again, the faint movement betraying a calmness that did not quite reach the intensity in his eyes. His attention remained locked on the chaos inside, a clash of energy and emotion that grew more turbulent with every passing heartbeat.

But then—

”Who are you?”

The sudden voice shattered the fragile quiet outside.

Hosan now stood directly in front of him. The elder dark elf had approached without so much as the sound of a footstep, yet the weight of his aura pressed outward with such force that the glass window between them trembled in protest.

Al’s only response was a faint, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head slightly, studying the figure before him with the detached curiosity of a predator sizing up a new challenger.

It seemed that the morning he had hoped would be calm and uneventful was destined instead to continue with a battle of considerable scale.