Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]

The spear of pure, razor-sharp divine energy—condensed from the essence of death itself—pierced through the air, aimed unerringly at Al’s heart.

The world froze.

Time itself seemed to hold its breath. The air thickened, and reality bent under the suffocating weight of the black energy swirling like a vortex of death around him.

Each inhalation burned—cold needles of air stabbing deep into his lungs, turning every breath into agony.

”This is a cleansing... a purification for the cursed stain that is you.”

The voice reverberated from all directions, neither loud nor soft—an omnipresent, dreadful tone that didn’t come from a mouth but from the hollow fabric of existence itself. It was the voice of judgment.

Al couldn’t even react.

His body refused to move—frozen, locked in place by an invisible force that crushed his bones from within.

What should I do?! My energy... it’s not flowing! Damn it—am I really going to die here?!

His thoughts screamed in panic, but before he could do anything—

Just before the deadly spear could pierce his chest, a blinding radiance erupted from within his body.

A golden explosion of light stopped the divine agent’s motion mid-strike.

In an instant, the suffocating darkness that filled the air convulsed violently, rippling as though recoiling in fear.

The light was pure, sacred, and impossibly warm—its divine radiance clashing perfectly against the unholy darkness surrounding the agent of death.

The agent’s shadowed face flinched, its ethereal body trembling. Its eyes—or whatever passed for them—quivered in disbelief.

The golden light enveloped Al, forming a shimmering barrier that held the black spear mere inches away from his chest.

”This... this can’t be—!” the agent exclaimed, his voice faltering for the first time, echoing with unease.

Al, equally astonished, stared wide-eyed.

This thing... is reacting?!

His gaze darted around, seeking the source of the light—and when he found it, shock flooded through him.

The golden brilliance wasn’t coming from his body... but from the black ring on his finger—his Dimensional Storage Ring, the one he wore every day.

And from within that ring—something was emerging.

A torn piece of parchment. The ancient artifact he had found the night before.

The paper was old—so old that its edges seemed ready to crumble into dust. Yet, as it appeared, the very space around it shuddered, trembling under the pressure of its divine presence.

An energy of divinity radiated from every fiber—something beyond mortal comprehension, beyond this world’s reality itself. It wasn’t simply magical energy—it was something higher. Something that transcended existence.

Al remembered the same artifact nearly unleashing destruction the previous night. And now—it was saving him.

The parchment floated upward, glowing in rhythmic pulses of golden light.

The faint ink lines etched on its surface began to shimmer once more, igniting with intricate patterns—ancient symbols written in a language that shouldn’t even exist in this dimension.

Both Al and the divine agent fell silent.

Al stood frozen, pain still gripping his body, his mind blank with confusion.

The agent, however, stared at the parchment in sheer horror.

”This... impossible. Why is that object here?!” His tone cracked—the sound no longer divine, but trembling with human fear.

The parchment hovered motionless between them, suspended in midair like a fallen star refusing to touch the ground.

The surrounding air heated, then calmed, as if bowing before the artifact’s holiness.

The thick black energy enveloping Al disintegrated—erased entirely by the sacred force emanating from the fragment.

Al’s eyes flicked from the parchment to the kneeling agent, uncertain of what was happening.

And then...

The divine agent knelt.

He knelt before the parchment, lowering his head in absolute reverence. His shadowed robe quivered, his voice breaking under genuine awe.

”Forgive my insolence, O Fragment of the Divine Word...” he whispered, his voice so faint it was nearly swallowed by the hum of light.

Al collapsed to the ground. His body was finally free, though weakness and trembling wracked him. His muscles screamed from the residual pain, but his mind could only latch onto one thought—

Why did the artifact come out on its own?

He pressed a trembling hand against his chest, forcing his breathing to steady. Blood still dripped from his lips, but his eyes never left the glowing parchment.

It reacted to divine energy from the Agent...? No, wait... does that mean it protected me? That’s ridiculous—a sacred artifact protecting a cursed human?

The golden light softened, fading from blinding radiance to a gentle warmth. Yet the echo of its divine power lingered in the air, vibrating in every particle, every grain of dust, like a quiet heartbeat of godhood.

The divine agent, once a figure of destruction and unshakable authority, now remained bowed—his voice trembling with devotion and terror.

Al slowly pushed himself to his feet, his legs unsteady. His eyes stayed fixed on the floating parchment, his face painted with confusion and disbelief.

That thing... it subdued a divine agent? Just what kind of absurd artifact is this? No wonder they were desperate to find it.

He hesitated but extended his hand. His fingers inched closer to the parchment’s glowing surface.

And just as they were about to make contact—

”DON’T!”

The divine agent’s roar cracked like thunder.

A violent surge of black energy burst outward, rippling through the ground. The entire area shook as if the heavens themselves were trembling.

Al’s hair whipped backward, his coat flaring from the sheer pressure.

”Don’t you dare touch it with your cursed hands!” the agent bellowed, his voice splitting into two—one heavenly, one infernal. The overlapping tones echoed through the shattered air, sending chills down Al’s spine.

Al instinctively staggered back, eyes wide. Blood still trailed down his chin, but confusion now outweighed fear.

”Cursed hands? Even after all that—you still have time to throw insults at me, huh?”

The agent rose slightly—not standing, but enough to reassert his divine dominance. Black energy flared around him like molten night, writhing like smoke from the depths of hell. His golden-silver eyes burned brighter, trembling with both fury and dread.

”You vile human! Your body is tainted by the sins of this world. You have no right to touch the Divine Word!” he roared, thrusting one hand forward. Another blast of dark energy hurtled toward Al.

Al straightened, forcing his body to endure the crushing spiritual pressure.

The energy surged toward him—but before it could strike, the artifact flared again.

A pillar of golden light erupted.

Once again, a divine barrier unfolded around Al, intercepting the attack effortlessly.

But it didn’t just block it.

Golden tendrils of light lashed outward like divine whips, striking the agent himself.

The impact sent him sprawling, forcing him to the ground once more. His body convulsed violently.

”The child... is protected by the Divine Word itself?” the agent whispered, disbelief shaking his tone. ”No... impossible. He’s... he’s a cursed being.”

And yet—the sacred light around Al pulsed brighter still, as though the heavens themselves denied the agent’s words.

Al stood frozen, his mind blank in the wake of what just happened. A brilliant golden light still enveloped him—yet it wasn’t scorching. Instead, it was warm... indescribably warm. It felt like a tender, knowing touch—one that had recognized him long before he ever came into existence.

Something deep inside him stirred. Something ancient—like a memory that had slumbered far too long—responded to that warmth.

And then—

”ARGHHHH!!!”

A piercing scream tore through the silence.

Al collapsed to his knees, clutching his head as searing pain erupted behind his eyes. His Dimensional Eyes—those cursed, divine fragments—flared violently, glowing with unbearable brilliance. His entire body convulsed. The pain wasn’t physical—it was spiritual, ripping through his very essence.

And then—his head snapped upward, completely against his will. His glowing eyes locked onto the floating artifact.

WOOSH!

A torrent of radiant golden energy burst from his eyes, spiraling toward the artifact. In that moment, both sources resonated—like two lost halves of a single divine origin, destined to reunite.

The Divine Agent, who had been watching, staggered backward as realization struck him with divine dread. His hollow voice trembled with comprehension.

”I see now...” he murmured, his tone heavy with disbelief. ”Even though that eye of his is but a corrupted fragment—imperfect and unstable—it is still bound to that artifact. They are one... the remnants of the Last Covenant, brought into this world. No wonder it reacted to this... accursed being.”

His eyes narrowed, and his voice fell low, almost reverent.

”Which means... even if he is not the chosen vessel, not the fated bearer—I no longer hold authority over his soul.”

A long, guttural scream escaped Al as his energy spiraled out of control. His aura flickered violently, shaking the air around them.

Even the barrier he had created to protect Sa-Ya trembled—cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.

Inside, Sa-Ya’s eyes widened as she caught faint echoes of Al’s cry. Though blurred and distorted, she could sense it—her master was in danger.

”Master!” she shouted, panic lacing her voice. The potion’s suppressing effect on her was fading fast, and her emotions were beginning to react.

”What should I do? He told me to maintain the spell no matter what, but... if Master’s in danger out there—!”

Conflict consumed her—duty or instinct. But before she could make a decision, Al’s scream abruptly stopped. The trembling barrier steadied itself once more.

”Huh? What just happened?” she whispered, scanning the golden surface. But she could no longer see or hear anything outside. ”The barrier’s stable again... does that mean Master’s okay?”

No response came.

Outside—Al was hunched over, panting heavily. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling as blood dripped from the corners of his glowing eyes.

Yet somehow... he felt lighter. Clearer. Stronger.

”Huff... huff... what the hell just happened to me?” he muttered, pressing a hand to his forehead as the pain gradually subsided.

Above him, the divine artifact floated gracefully—its golden luminescence dimming to a soft, rhythmic pulse before it slowly drifted back toward him. Like a feather caught in divine wind, it glided into his storage ring, vanishing without a trace.

Silence followed. An unnatural stillness.

”What... just happened?” Al whispered, staring at his ring.

The Divine Agent, who had been watching the entire time, finally straightened his posture. His expression—if one could call it that—had changed. The coldness remained, but there was something else in his tone now. Something like... restraint.

”You...” he began slowly, his voice echoing like distant thunder. ”A being of corrupted fate. A wretched creature defiled by sin. You are absurdly fortunate to possess the Dimensional Eyes and to be acknowledged by that fragment of the Divine Word.”

”Divine Word?” Al echoed, raising an eyebrow.

”Hmph.” The Agent scoffed, the sound heavy with disdain. ”So you don’t even know what you’re holding. No wonder you reek of mortal ignorance.”

Al frowned, irritation flickering across his face. ”You keep saying that—’cursed,’ ’wretched,’ ’defiled.’ Do you ever get tired of your own insults? Even I’m bored of hearing it now.”

The Agent’s dark aura pulsed faintly. ”Be grateful for that boredom. Your life should have ended moments ago. Unfortunately, I no longer have the authority to kill you.” His tone darkened, dripping with divine malice. ”But rest assured... when the time is right, my duty will be renewed—and you will cease to exist.”

Al crossed his arms with an unimpressed snort. ”Huh. Judging from your attitude, I guess divine agents really are just arrogant beings wrapped in shiny self-righteousness.”

”So what? What are you going to do now? You said you can’t kill me anymore, right? I don’t know what the reason, but whatever it is... just leave if you’ve got nothing else to do here. I’ve got plenty of important things to handle,” he added.

The Agent tilted his head, his voice reverberating with layered tones—one angelic, one infernal.

”Of course we are. We were forged from divine supremacy itself. You mortals are nothing but transient shadows beneath us.”

He paused for a moment, eyes narrowing.

”And for the record... you were never my target. Our encounter here was merely coincidence.”

”What do you mean?” Al asked, his brow furrowing. ”Since when does a divine agent ’accidentally’ try to kill someone outside their mission?”

The Agent’s voice turned colder than ever.

”The annihilation of forbidden existences is always within my domain. And you...” His gaze drifted past Al. ”Unfortunately... You are not the one marked for death this time. But...”

He extended his hand toward the shimmering barrier behind Al—the one shielding Sa-Ya.

A single snap of his fingers.

CRACK—SHATTER!

The barrier burst apart in a storm of energy.

Revealing Sa-Ya inside—her body trembling from the potion’s side effects, barely able to stand as she continued to sustain her magic. Basri’s immobilized figure hovered nearby, while Putri lay unconscious on the bed behind them.

”...That one,” the Agent said flatly, pointing toward Basri.

Sa-Ya’s eyes widened when she saw Al standing outside—face bloodied, aura unsteady, but alive.

”M... Master...” she breathed weakly.

”Sa-Ya,” Al called out, alarm flashing across his face.

Without hesitation, he leaped forward, landing between her and the divine entity. His posture dropped low, defensive—shielding her and the others behind his back.

He cast a quick glance at Sa-Ya.

Damn it. The potion’s wearing off. That means Shae inside the third dimension feels the effect too... and there’s still no sign of her coming back, he thought, gritting his teeth.

The Divine Agent, unfazed, lifted one hand. A new black energy spear coalesced in his grip—sharper, denser, and more lethal than before.

”Child,” the Agent intoned, voice echoing like judgment itself. ”Not everyone is blessed with your undeserved fortune. And what has been decreed to die by my hand... will die by my hand.”

Without another word—

WOSHHHH!!!

The spear of death tore through the air, whistling toward them with divine precision.

”Shit!” Al cursed inwardly, his instincts flaring as the incoming darkness filled his vision.

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