Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]

Al was already prepared. From his hand, a long black blade erupted, forged entirely from the flames of his energy. The sword burned with an eerie life of its own, vibrating with a low hum that was not unlike the wails of tormented spirits.

The sound alone was enough to raise the hairs on the back of anyone’s neck, a dreadful reminder that this weapon was no ordinary creation.

Sacred Magic: Hell Fire Blade.

”Be ready,” he spoke flatly, his voice carrying no more weight than a whisper, yet it echoed like an executioner’s decree. Each small step he took across the empty air left behind trails of black fire, like a night sky being devoured one spark at a time.

Axis sharpened her gaze. Her eyes glowed faintly with a purplish hue, resembling embers kissed by the moon’s radiance. Her silver hair danced gently in the current of energy filling the battlefield, responding to the unseen rhythm of power.

”Of course. I’ve been waiting long enough for this continuation of our fight,” Axis answered, sounding far too eager.

Her lips curved slightly, as though tasting the thrill of battle. ”I just hope you’re not relying on that cheap flame of yours. Use the dark energy—don’t disappoint me.”

”You talk too much for nothing more than a fragment of energy,” Al retorted coldly. His words came sharp, paired with a gaze so cutting it felt as though the very air around them grew heavier under its weight. ”Worry about whether your subordinates can leave this place alive.”

And then both figures burst forward, their clash heralded by a tidal wave of energy. The night sky cracked with small detonations as black and violet light streaked toward each other, colliding with destructive brilliance that carved lightning-like scars across the heavens.

Axis was not idle. She raised her hand and released her own art of magic.

Soul Magic: Soul Sword.

From the void formed a translucent blade, violet in color, its core marked by a thin, pale-white strip that looked disturbingly like bone.

This was no ordinary weapon, but a sword born of one’s very soul. A frigid aura seeped out from its edge, carrying with it whispers of unseen spirits murmuring in the shadows, as though the dead themselves circled in restless anticipation.

With a single motion, Axis swung the blade toward Al. The strike was answered immediately by the fiery black flame sword in Al’s grip.

The collision lasted only an instant—Al’s blade cleaved through the ghostly weapon, scattering its form like shattered glass.

But that was far from the end. Another Soul Sword manifested, and another, and another—appearing endlessly, conjured from nowhere. It was as if the weapon itself could regenerate in accordance with the strength of the soul that sustained it.

The sky grew thick with layers of blades, spectral phantoms surging toward Al without pause. Each one darted like a predator in flight, their edges carrying lethal speed and intent.

CLING! CLANG! SWOOSH!

Steel made of fire and steel made of bone clashed violently. Sparks rained across the battlefield as the two figures moved in a flurry of slashes and counters. Even with nothing more than a fragment of energy, Axis proved herself capable of standing toe-to-toe with Al.

Their collisions rippled outward in waves, vibrations strong enough to make the air tremble. Below, the earth cracked in delicate spiderweb patterns, scattering debris that danced wildly in every direction.

Meanwhile, Axis’s subordinates could do nothing but watch. Their original duty had been to secure the area, to step in if the situation demanded it. Yet faced with the sight of their leaders’ battle, that responsibility seemed all but forgotten.

Witnessing such a clash felt more than duty—it was an honor, a memory they might never see again in their lifetimes. For now, they focused only on ensuring no one interfered, and that they themselves were not swallowed by the storm of destruction above.

Among them stood Fahruk and the five men who had once fought Al directly. They knew firsthand what that black-clad man was capable of, far more than those who had only heard rumors whispered in the dark.

To them, Al was someone dangerously close to their leader’s level—perhaps even equal. This was the battlefield of the elite.

Their throats went dry. They swallowed hard, hearts pounding violently against their ribs. A single wrong step, a single miscalculation, and the stray tide of energy would crush them into nothingness.

Behind them, the man in the brown jacket struggled to follow anything at all. His human senses simply couldn’t keep pace with beings who fought like gods. Yet even he understood that something terrifying beyond comprehension was unfolding above.

Skepticism warred with hope inside him. Part of him doubted, part of him feared. But another part silently wished for that dark-clad figure to prevail—to not only win this fight, but to overcome the thousands more enemies that loomed behind.

His chest tightened, his heartbeat erratic, a blend of dread and anticipation surging together. Cold sweat streamed down his temples as he stared skyward, waiting for judgment to fall.

Returning to the battle that had yet to be interrupted by anyone else—

”Your control over soul magic is rather impressive, even though you’re nothing more than a fragment of your true self,” Al remarked amidst the clash.

His tone was steady and calm, though each swing of his burning blade carved trails of black fire that seared the very air around them. ”Among all the opponents I’ve faced, you’re by far the most troublesome to deal with.”

”This is nothing more than a small trick, and it’s more than enough to deal with someone as weak as you,” Axis retorted.

She then floated backward, deliberately widening the distance between them. Raising her left hand, her fingers spread wide, and from his palm swirled a mass of violet-black aura. It twisted like smoke, yet within its depths writhed the faint silhouettes of countless souls shrieking in agony. ”Consider this your first trial,” she declared.

From that churning mass emerged a strange, irregular surge of violet energy—distorted, difficult to gaze upon, as though reality itself blurred when one tried to look directly at it. With a casual flick of her arm, Axis hurled the power toward Al.

Soul Magic: Soul Blast.

The blast streaked forward, translucent in its core yet tinged with a faint purple glow. Though elusive to the eye, Al’s senses warned him instantly—it was expanding, growing, and threatening to consume him whole. The wave of energy cracked the very air, leaving jagged black lines behind, as if existence itself were being torn apart.

With a swift motion, Al thrust his hand forward, summoning a wall of black fire to intercept the strike.

But—

BLAST!

The spell detonated in midair, exploding with a force that hurled Al backward. His expression betrayed surprise, for he hadn’t anticipated the hidden flare of destruction.

Of course, the blast itself was nowhere near strong enough to wound him seriously—at most, the scorching energy singed parts of his uniform, leaving charred patches here and there. But the true danger of that attack was not in its physical damage.

THROB.

Al’s body shuddered with discomfort, an unnatural pulse echoing deep within his chest. It was as though his very soul had been struck, aching with a pain that transcended flesh. For an instant, his vision blurred, and whispers—alien and intrusive—clawed at his mind, like a thousand unseen voices trying to tear apart his consciousness.

”Tch... truly irritating,” Al muttered through clenched teeth, forcing his spirit back into stability. In the next instant, his figure shot forward once more, shrouded in black fire that twisted wildly around him, surging like a storm hungry to swallow the world.

”Hahaha! Didn’t I tell you? You’ll need another thousand years before you can stand against even a fragment of me,” Axis laughed, belittling him. Her voice dripped with arrogance, her expression shifting into the smug, satisfied smile of a tyrant relishing her superiority.

The clash resumed with renewed ferocity. Blades and spells collided in a storm of violence.

Al slashed, but Axis vanished like a phantom, reappearing behind him. It was a seamless teleportation—so fluid it required no talisman, no visible catalyst. It was a hallmark of the Ordo Ferox, carried out with terrifying ease.

With her return strike, Axis aimed directly at Al’s exposed back.

Yet Al was not outmatched. He reacted instantly, his form flickering out of sight, leaving only a phantom trail of black fire in his wake. Axis’s blade struck only that illusionary flame, which burst in a small eruption, splattering the air with molten-red sparks, almost like boiling blood.

”You’re not the only one who can teleport,” Al’s voice echoed as his form reappeared not far away. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, both hands cloaked in roaring black fire, claws of flame reaching out to tear and incinerate Axis within the borrowed body of Ayu.

Sensing the danger, Axis conjured a barrier before her. The shield of energy shimmered under the assault, holding firm against Al’s burning strike.

The impact between flame and barrier detonated outward, unleashing a shockwave so forceful that stones across the ground were lifted into the air before crashing back down like rain.

”Don’t you dare compare me to a weakling like you,” Axis spat, already retreating to a safer distance, her barrier still glowing faintly around her.

And yet—both of them smiled. Their expressions reflected not fear, but exhilaration. Axis wore a sharp, elegant smile, laced with mocking cynicism, while Al’s grin carried the promise of violence, the threat of fire and ruin waiting to be unleashed.

The onlookers were spellbound. Whether they could follow the duel clearly with sharpened senses or only glimpse fleeting shadows of motion, their eyes remained wide, their breaths caught. To them, it was as though two gods had descended, crossing blades upon the stage of the mortal world.

The battle surged again, their strikes fierce and unrelenting. The ground quaked beneath the onslaught, the air was torn by arcs of energy, and even the night sky seemed to tremble. Overhead, the pale moon stood as the lone witness, casting its cold, silver glow upon the duel of two sovereigns.

---

After a while, the two monsters once again placed distance between themselves.

At first glance, there seemed to be little change in Al’s condition—his stance remained steady, his breathing unbroken, his body showing almost no signs of fatigue. Yet beneath that calm exterior, his soul still carried faint disturbances, subtle echoes of Axis’s soul magic gnawing at the edges of his spirit.

His breaths came measured, each exhale a controlled release of energy, yet his eyes told a different story. They gleamed sharp, predatory, like those of a beast patiently calculating the exact moment to lunge for the kill.

Axis, on the other hand, no longer looked nearly as composed. The solidity of her form had begun to falter. Where once she appeared whole and unyielding, her figure now wavered at the edges, parts of Ayu’s original body flickering back into view beneath the veneer of her manifestation.

Brief flashes of silver-blue light rippled across her, appearing and vanishing in an instant, leaving behind a fragile, trembling silhouette. The dark aura surrounding her churned violently, boiling against the air, its pressure sharp enough to sting the skin of her followers who stood below.

”I suppose you can’t sustain that fragment for a long-term fight, can you?” Al spoke mockingly, his tone calm but cutting.

His words carried no fire, yet every syllable struck like a blade, a deliberate attack against Axis’s pride. ”If that’s the case, doesn’t that mean you’re the only one here making this boring for me?”

Axis, more than anyone, understood the truth behind those words. He was painfully aware of his own condition.

”Tch... I thought this vessel was prepared enough,” Axis admitted through clenched teeth, a trace of discomfort in her voice. Her gaze lowered to her arm, which now blurred in and out of existence. ”Looks like there’s still much to refine.”

Her fingers trembled faintly, betraying the strain. The borrowed body she possessed was no longer capable of shouldering the rampaging energy within.

Her eyes flicked across her followers before locking back onto Al. Though her stare was piercing, a thin veil of hesitation flickered behind her faint smile.

So even after all this, that monster still stands untouched... completely unscathed. Did I miscalculate? Or has he grown far stronger than before? This growth... it’s unnatural, Axis analyzed, her thoughts running cold.

Her initial plan had been straightforward: weaken Al first, on the assumption that his strength had not significantly changed since their last encounter. With that, the fragment she used here should have been enough to wear him down, leaving the finishing blow to her followers.

But the reality was different. Even without fighting at full strength, Al still stood unharmed, while Axis’s fragment was the one unraveling. The conclusion was undeniable—Al’s growth was too fast, too abnormal. And now, the tables had turned. Instead of cornering Al, it was Axis’s subordinates who were at risk.

Even if she commanded thousands, only Fahruk held any chance of buying real time against that black-clad monster. The others? They would be nothing more than sacrifices.

If only the others were here. If only I could face him in my true body. Then things would have been different. Everything would have gone as planned, Axis mused bitterly.

But that option was gone. Which left her with only one path.

Shee steeled his resolve. Better to end this clash on her own terms than to let it descend into a graveyard for her followers.

The air around her shuddered, her aura pushing violently outward. The ground beneath her feet cracked in delicate fractures, while the night sky above rumbled as if acknowledging the weight of her decision.

”I suppose you’re fortunate this body isn’t ready to handle the full measure of my gift,” Axis said at last, still forcing arrogance into her tone for the sake of her followers. A crooked smirk twisted across her lips, though exhaustion carved faint lines she could no longer completely hide.

Al’s response was only a sardonic smile. He could see through the façade clearly—Axis was not ready, not tonight. His hand slowly clenched into a fist, restraining the raw instinct to simply finish it here and now.

”So now you’re blaming your subordinates? What happened to all that tough talk earlier?” Al quipped sarcastically, his words heavy with disdain.

A flicker of irritation crossed Axis’s face, though she refused to allow herself to be lowered in front of her people.

”Haha.” Her laugh was lighter this time, hollow and unconvincing.

”Don’t trouble yourself with that. This is already more than enough to finish you.” Her arrogance remained intact, even if her confidence did not. The sound of her laughter echoed faintly, like an empty chamber forcing back its own silence.

She raised his right hand high into the air. From her palm, a sphere of translucent energy formed, its surface immediately cloaked in rolling black aura. It pulsed violently, a living mass of destructive power, casting faint light that made the shadows across the battlefield dance and contort like restless spirits.

Her followers shielded their faces as waves of mixed heat and cold tore through the field, stabbing into their very bones.

”And this...” Axis declared, her voice carrying through the chaos, ”this will be my little farewell gift to you. Try to survive it, Hell Phoenix. Don’t let me down. Hahaha.”

Her intention was clear—one final, massive strike before her fragment collapsed. Whether it destroyed Al or simply bought time for her followers to retreat, the outcome no longer mattered.

Al’s eyes narrowed, his vision wavering from the prolonged strain of keeping his dimensional eye active throughout the duel. Thin veins of blood streaked from the corner of his temple, but his posture remained upright, immovable as an unyielding wall.

This woman... she’s absolutely insane, he muttered inwardly.

The night sky itself seemed to echo his thought. The heavens rumbled softly, without lightning, without thunder—only a hushed tremor that crawled across every soul on the battlefield, leaving their skin cold and their spirits quivering.

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