Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]

A few moments earlier,

Hosan sensed an unusual fluctuation of energy approaching from two different directions. The disturbance was faint yet sharp, and it immediately pricked his instincts like a thorn pressing against the skin.

”Young Master, I’ll check outside. The barrier has been damaged, and that makes my detection harder than usual,” he said to David in a low but steady voice.

His tone carried firmness, yet his eyes were restless. They swept across the room as though he could pierce through walls and uncover the unseen threats lurking beyond.

David gave a small nod. He understood exactly what Hosan meant. The barrier protecting his chamber had indeed been disrupted earlier by Dedy, and that interference left their defenses vulnerable.

Without wasting another second, Hosan moved. His hand gave a subtle signal, and the shadow troops under his command began to stir.

His movements were swift yet silent, every step so light it barely left a sound. The long dark coat draped over his shoulders rippled in the faint draft, and from the corners of the chamber, more shadows slid into motion. They emerged like streams of black mist flowing out of hidden cracks, melting into the dimness as they followed behind their commander.

When Hosan finally reached the balcony, he immediately caught sight of a figure clad in dark attire standing casually by the window of David’s room. The man was simply there, still and composed, as though waiting. Hosan’s instincts screamed at him, and his body instantly shifted toward that figure.

And then, when the distance was closed—

”Who are you?” Hosan demanded. His voice was firm, and he was already standing face-to-face with the intruder: Al.

Hosan’s gaze was sharp, almost piercing. His right hand clenched tightly at his side, knuckles stiff, as if one wrong breath would trigger a violent strike.

The breeze stirred. The cloaks of the shadow soldiers fluttered faintly, carried by the morning wind. Rays of sunlight broke across Al’s face, leaving half of it hidden in darkness, while in the shade of his eyes glimmered a faint, dangerous red.

Hosan advanced a step closer. His movements produced no sound, like a predator gliding over the ground. The oppressive energy radiating from his body pressed outward, distorting the air itself. Glass panes of the nearby windows shivered from the unseen force, as though the entire atmosphere bent beneath the weight of his presence.

The pressure was suffocating, heavy enough to crush the chest of anyone weaker.

Al felt that power. He recognized the hostility in it, but his body was barely affected. Instead, he merely regarded Hosan with a faint, almost lazy smile, as if studying an opponent who had suddenly appeared in front of him along with a dozen loyal soldiers hiding in the folds of darkness.

His smile carried a deceptive calm, yet the gleam in his eyes was icy—like a beast of prey appraising whether the fresh meat before him was worth the effort of tearing apart.

”Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first,” Al spoke in a light, almost conversational tone, ”... before asking for someone else’s name?”

His hand lifted as he spoke. The motion was slow, unhurried, his fingers extending in a gesture that looked casual, almost as if greeting an old friend. Yet the atmosphere grew denser with every second, the tension thickening like coiling smoke.

Hosan’s brows furrowed deeply. In response, he intensified the aura pouring from his body, pushing the oppressive force higher to assert his dominance in front of this mysterious intruder.

The veins on his temple bulged, his muscles tightening. His legs bent slightly, lowering his stance, signaling that his body was ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

But before he could act, Al casually waved his hand.

A surge of energy erupted.

WOSHHHH!

The sound was like a small storm breaking loose. Dust burst across the balcony, scattering wildly. Hosan’s hair whipped backward as the blast swept over him.

Pebbles on the floor were sent flying. The windows rattled violently, the shrill vibration echoing in the air and thickening the already suffocating tension.

The power Hosan had unleashed was instantly overturned, twisted back into the surroundings, producing a ripple of distorted energy. It didn’t cause any real damage, but the phenomenon itself was shocking enough.

”Huh?” Hosan muttered in disbelief, his eyes widening. He hadn’t expected such an outcome. ”This man… he’s strong.” His voice was low as he shifted into a combat stance, shoulders tightening.

His breathing quickened. His fingers brushed the hilt of the weapon at his waist, and the cords of muscle in his arms tensed, prepared for immediate release.

”Oi, oi… calm down, will you?” Al said in a relaxed voice, stepping forward. ”I’m really not in the mood for a fight. My body is still a bit worn out. These past two days, I’ve been moving far too much. Huff…”

His steps were unhurried, but each one landed with a strange weight. The sound echoed heavily, even though the movement seemed light, and every time his foot touched the ground, it was as if the air trembled. The aura radiating from him was unmistakable—a predator’s dominance. His shadow stretched unnaturally across the wall, larger and more menacing than his actual body.

Even the faint scraping of his boots against the floor was enough to make the shadow soldiers swallow their breath, their throats tightening in unease.

Feeling threatened, and with Al already far too close for comfort, two of the shadow soldiers lunged forward without waiting for Hosan’s command, rushing straight toward him.

Their bodies darted across the space like bolts of lightning, black garments fluttering wildly in the air, while faintly glowing white eyes shimmered from within the darkness that concealed their faces.

In the blink of an eye, both of them had already taken positions on Al’s left and right. Each of their hands burned with blackened energy, twisting into sharp spirals of power as if ready to pierce him from both directions at once. The dark glow scorched thin cracks into the stone floor, spreading outward like asphalt splitting under fire, tracing their every step.

”Huff... didn’t I already say I wasn’t in the mood for a fight?” Al spoke in a relaxed, almost careless tone. ”But if that’s what you insist on...”

A red-and-black aura erupted from both of his arms, wrapping around his body like a living shroud. The energy slithered across his skin like thick blood-smoke, and in his eyes, flames began to flicker to life.

GRAB!

”... then let’s play for a while,” he said coldly, his gaze sharpening like blades.

With sudden force, he seized the arm of each assailant and yanked them violently toward one another, slamming their bodies together with merciless strength.

BUGHHH!!

Bone clashed against bone, the crash resonating like thunder. Their bodies smashed together at high speed, one of them coughing a thin spray of blood from his mouth. The air itself trembled, the balcony quivered beneath the shockwave, and the two shadows spun helplessly in midair.

Before their bodies even had a chance to crash back onto the ground, Al released his grip. His lips curled into a cruel smile.

Fusion Elemental Magic Fire–Earth Type: Dual Sword Manifestation.

From both of his arms, dust and shards of stone in the surroundings surged toward his hands, fusing into a pair of long swords. Flames roared to life along the blades, burning with relentless heat.

The firelight reflected in Al’s eyes. The swords crackled like heated steel hammered on an anvil, every spark casting wild shadows that danced erratically across the walls.

The air grew suffocatingly hot. Thin smoke coiled from the fractured tiles beneath his feet. The hiss of fire drowned out the hushed whispers of the night.

And then he swung the blazing weapon down at the two staggering enemies, trying to cleave them both in a single strike. His grin widened into something disturbingly unhinged as he did so.

But—

KRANNGG!

Two more shadow soldiers materialized in front of the strike, raising a dark-colored magical barrier to intercept. The shield cracked instantly under the impact, shattering with the sound of cascading glass before a small explosion forced them stumbling back a step.

The first pair had been spared from Al’s blade, but the two who had intervened now found themselves caught directly in his reach, exposed and vulnerable.

Fortunately for them, another pair of shadows surged forward from behind. Both drove their fists straight at Al’s back, each blow reinforced by concentrated dark energy. Their strikes tore through the air, leaving trails like shattered glass as the force displaced space itself.

Al reacted swiftly, twisting his body and unleashing a brutal kick at both attackers simultaneously. His leg snapped forward like a thunder-whip, the gust from the motion blasting outward violently. His joints cracked audibly as his muscles released explosive power.

The kick intercepted their combined assault, halting their momentum and driving pain into their arms. But the counter also forced Al himself to pause, his movement momentarily restrained.

And then, before the dust could settle, another presence appeared—dropping from above. This shadow held both hands together, channeling black energy into a swirling orb that sparked faint static arcs.

Hovering in the air with eyes glowing ominously, his face veiled in shadow, he resembled a demon descending from the heavens.

With a single thrust of his hands—

Dark Magic: Durlome Blast!

BWOOSSHH!

A surge of black energy laced with lightning carved through the air, fired from a dangerously close distance. Al’s expression hardened as he saw it coming. The flames on his swords wavered under the violent current.

His eyes narrowed, teeth clenched, and his left hand instinctively raised the blade to block even though his stance was unprepared.

And then—

DUARRR!!

The explosion consumed the balcony. Smoke billowed upward. The floor cracked and buckled.

Fragments of stone shot out like shrapnel, some piercing into the chamber walls. A thick, suffocating haze engulfed the battlefield, reducing all vision to shifting silhouettes.

Muffled groans from the shadow soldiers echoed faintly within the smoke. Sparks of flame and lightning flashed intermittently, like camera bulbs in total darkness.

”You fools! Don’t act recklessly! Don’t risk exposing our mission for young master David!” Hosan’s voice rang out, tinged with frustration. His underlings had unleashed a skill that could compromise them.

He himself now stood at the rear, both arms spread wide as he summoned a barrier to contain the blast. The shimmering wall absorbed the debris and muffled the noise, but it trembled like fragile glass hammered by a storm. The resonant hum clawed at the ears of everyone inside.

The barrier pulsed with unstable violet-blue light. Hosan’s face twisted as he endured the strain, his breaths coming heavy.

”Forgive me, Sir Hosan,” said the shadow who had launched the spell. His voice faltered as he retreated, joined by three others who had been fighting earlier. ”But that man… he’s far stronger than he looks.”

They pulled back rapidly, hands raised in guarded stances, eyes never leaving the smoke cloud that still hid Al’s presence. Meanwhile, the other three seemed to have been caught in the blast, their conditions unclear.

”Did you finish him?” Hosan demanded, his voice low and edged with iron. His piercing gaze tried to pierce through the thick haze.

No answer came. None of them were sure.

The smoke was heavy, rolling like a living thing, gray mist curling as though it breathed. The air grew oppressive, pressing against their chests, making each breath shallow. Stranger still—their magic detection picked up nothing. No trace of Al’s existence lingered within. That absence made their skin crawl, their nerves strain tighter.

Hosan flicked his arm sharply. At once, the wind surged, a metallic screech filling the air as if blades grated against one another, forcing the smoke to scatter away.

The scene cleared.

Three shadow soldiers lay sprawled on the fractured floor, evidently struck by the blast. They twitched faintly, breathing in ragged gasps. Beside them, fragments of the fiery sword Al had wielded lay cracked and broken. But Al himself—was nowhere.

”Where is he?” Hosan muttered, stunned, his brows furrowing as his fists clenched reflexively.

The remaining shadows scanned the surroundings desperately, but found nothing. Their footsteps shifted into a defensive formation, every muscle tensed, veins bulging on their necks, cold sweat dripping despite the night air’s chill.

They knew now : Al had survived, unscathed, and could launch a counterattack at any second.

”I already told you, I have no interest in fighting. But you people really don’t know how to listen.”

Al’s voice drifted out from directly behind Hosan. Calm, level, almost emotionless—yet carrying a subtle threat that made the skin prickle and the hair on the back of the neck stand upright.

Hosan’s eyes widened, pupils dilating in shock. He spun around instantly, his cloak whipping through the air like the wings of a bat. Both of his hands erupted with a vortex of black energy, and without hesitation he hurled the attack toward the figure he could now feel standing behind him.

But—

Al caught it with his arm. The motion was steady and firm, as if the force Hosan had unleashed was nothing extraordinary, nothing beyond his ability to stop.

”Hello,” Al greeted casually once their eyes met, a thin smile tugging at his lips. His expression carried no fear whatsoever. On the contrary, it was the face of someone who had lived long in the crucible of combat, someone so accustomed to danger that even lethal force felt like an ordinary inconvenience.

Without a word of command, Hosan leapt backward, joined in perfect synchronicity by the shadow soldiers at his side. Their boots struck the floor heavily, each step echoing with weight as they spread out and created distance between themselves and Al.

Even while retreating, Hosan did not forget to counter. He flicked several small black spheres, no larger than marbles, with startling speed and strength toward Al. The orbs streaked through the air, leaving behind jagged trails of dark energy, like splashes of ink scarring across the brightness of the morning.

Al twisted aside with ease, slipping past nearly every sphere. And then—just to prove his point—he snatched one from the air. His hand moved with a certain casual grace, body leaning slightly as if this was a game rather than a deadly skirmish.

The force of the sphere’s impact nudged his hand back, proof enough that whatever Hosan had thrown was not something to be underestimated.

”A Great weapon,” Al murmured, lifting the small orb closer to his eye. The crimson glow in his gaze reflected against its surface, sharp and curious, as though dissecting its secrets.

Hosan’s lips curved into a thin smile—an expression steeped in quiet menace. His mouth smiled, but his eyes stayed cold, calculating.

Al frowned slightly at the incongruity of that smile. And then, the reason became clear. His fingers, still clutching the orb, began to blister. A faint hiss of white smoke curled up from his skin. The acrid scent of burning flesh seeped into the air, reaching even the soldiers standing nearby. The sphere radiated a malicious black energy, its touch corroding him. The blisters spread steadily, like an eternal curse designed to consume the victim’s flesh piece by piece.

”That thing,” Hosan said in an even, almost careless tone, ”is a nightmare for any human race. Even if you release it, the effect will not vanish. The damage is irreversible.”

”Really? Even so… this weapon isn’t bad.” Al chuckled, smiling faintly, as if he were talking about some trivial toy and not a deadly curse designed to kill him.

”Huh?” Hosan’s eyes widened in disbelief. ”Are you an idiot?”

Instead of answering, Al tossed the sphere up, caught it again, and then clenched his fist tightly around it.

”Idiot or not,” Al said, his voice calm, almost mocking, ”that’s not the important question right now.”

A thin cracking sound echoed out, delicate yet sharp, like glass being slowly crushed in a closing fist.

Hosan’s face tightened as he saw what Al was doing. Then Al raised his hand, opening his fingers one by one to show the result.

”Who exactly are you people, and what are you doing here? What is your connection to David? And more importantly—what are you using to hide your true identities from me? Answer those questions if you want even the slightest chance of walking away from this alive.”

Hosan’s eyes went wide. The orb—once a cursed weapon meant to destroy—crumbled into nothing, collapsing into a rain of black dust that scattered away on the breeze.

”You…! Who are you really?!” Hosan demanded, voice trembling despite himself, his glare sharp enough to cut. Deep within, his instincts screamed in warning. Something about this man standing before him was far more dangerous than anything he had anticipated.

The two men locked eyes. Silent. Searching. Suspicious.

Each demanded answers from the other’s existence, and in that quiet confrontation, it was clear—new mysteries were about to unravel, and neither of them would walk away unchanged.