Youngest Son of the Renowned Magic Clan chapter 118

Youngest Son of the Renowned Magic Clan

Chapter 118: The Youngest Son of a Magical Family

The ‘White-haired Eagle’ was a ruse. Lasen bent his knees, extending his fist towards the keeper tribe who had hidden themselves within a narrow gap. The keeper tribe couldn’t dodge the punch in time.


Lasen’s fist collided with the skull of the keeper, producing a loud noise. Rosalyn shivered. She was slightly angry.

“What are you doing?”

There was no doubt that the keeper tribe possessed excellent skills in scaling mountains, but their strength was negligible.

The keeper faced the full brunt of Lasen’s strike, lacking any chance to withstand it. Hidden within the tight crevice, they had no chance to dodge and were killed instantly by Lasen’s fist.

Lasen raised his index finger.


He lightly pressed on Rosalyn’s head. Rosalyn, having decided to trust Lasen, complied with his actions, something unthinkable in the past.

After some time, nothing had happened.

Rosalyn and Lasen got up. Rosalyn asked,

“Are you going to explain?”

The keeper tribe was innocent. It’s a crime to kill an innocent person. No matter if they’re related to a magical family, killing without justification is not acceptable.

“Is there something to explain?”

Lasen pointed with his finger towards the crevice in the rock.


Rosalyn peered at the spot where the keeper’s body should have been. Nothing was there.

“Gone, like smoke. The body.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It seems so.”

Rosalyn, skeptical, approached the crevice to investigate and found a faint trace of mana.

‘I’ve never heard of the keeper tribe vanishing into thin air.’

They, too, were human. They should leave behind corpses when they die, but there was no body. That meant, it wasn’t the keeper tribe.

“Then, what was it?”

“Let’s follow and see.”

Lasen grabbed Rosalyn’s wrist and they walked about 100 meters. Through thick bushes, Lasen knelt and carefully examined the ground.

“Up to here.”

“There are footprints?”

They felt slightly warm to the touch. Rosalyn sensed something strange.

“The footprints suddenly stop here.”

And there was not just one set of footprints.

“Judging by the size and shape, it’s likely a four-legged beast, a magical creature.”

A magical creature of such a size that could appear in these mountains and thought of the ‘White-haired Eagle’ as prey might be a hyena-like beast.

“It appears to be a group led by a leader.”

“That’s what it looks like.”

The footprints presumed to be the leader’s were at least two to three times larger than the others.

“There must be at least ten. The pair of us would have found them quite the handful.”

“If this many beasts had moved, we should have sensed something.”

They were not parasites of shadows, and if they were beasts, their presence should have been noticeable. Rosalyn found it odd, leading to only one conclusion.

“Could they have been magically summoned?”

Lasen nodded.

“That would make sense.”

Magically summoned beast-type creatures. The summoned beasts had moved to attack Lasen’s group or the corpse of the ‘White-haired Eagle.’ Meanwhile, the summoner had been killed, causing the magical creatures to vanish as well. It was a plausible theory.

“Rosalyn, it was wise of you not to chide me immediately. That thing took on the appearance of the keeper tribe and was probably capable of magic.”

“Since when did you suspect something was off?”

“From the moment it appeared with a staff.”

The keeper tribe despised modern civilization. They chose to live in their primitive state. Yet, when it first appeared, it was carrying a stick.

Lasen returned to the spot where he had killed the fake keeper and inserted his hand into the crevice.

“Here. There’s a stick. It has a magic formula inscribed on it.”

“Can you feel it?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t before, but it seems like the effect hiding the spell activated upon the caster’s death.”

The stick was about 50 cm long. Lasen placed it into subspace.

It was clear: the keeper tribe was fake and had been summoning beasts to attack them. The condition for summoning might have been ‘the killing of the White-haired Eagle.’

‘But why?’

If that keeper had been a ‘sorcerer’,

‘Why would a sorcerer capable of such summoning magic attack me?’

It was strange. No matter how much he thought about it, it was strange. If an attack was intended, a more elaborate trap could have been set. A sorcerer proficient in disguise and summoning magic had no reason to attack Lasen.

‘And to hide in a place without any chance of escape.’

As if advertising for someone to kill it.

‘The strangest thing is that I suspect plausibility, yet the world shows no reaction.’

Normally, when confronted with such an odd situation, the grey world unfolds.

With the creator’s privilege, ‘Adding a line’, the story’s plausibility must be adjusted. But there was no reaction. Either there was no strangeness in plausibility or there was no need to adjust it.

Lasen had to revise his initial thought.

“I thought the White-haired Eagle had grown stronger due to the intervention of Grandel’s head or my father. It might be that it wasn’t the case.”


“Perhaps this place was designed to be like this from the beginning.”

He still didn’t understand. However, he remembered one fact.

‘I saw Hangeul (Korean script) on the Byungpung Rock.’

It was likely arranged by Kirtel and Alberto. They scouted around a little bit. Rosalyn seemed a bit worried.

“Is it okay to move without the keeper tribe?”

“Who knows? If we do receive the keeper’s guidance, perhaps we won’t find what we’re looking for.”

The keeper tribe would have scaled the Byungpung Rock countless times. If something were to be found with the keeper’s guidance, it would have been found long ago.

‘Something hidden so it wouldn’t be found.’

Lasen had already found it. Signs left in a way only Lasen could read. Lasen continued searching the area. Eventually, he found it.

A half-rotten tree. There, carved in Hangeul, were letters.

[Open the way to Byungpung Rock.]

[These words will guide posterity.]

In Velatura’s office, Deckatra took a seat. He took a sip of warm tea, but grimaced as if finding no taste.

“Can’t you make tastier tea? To brew this fine Moonlight tea in such a fashion?”

“You complain even when given the best,” replied Velatura, smiling, as he took a seat across Deckatra.

“Why have you dragged your heavy behind here?”

“Ever tried tea brewed from Karutin flower stems?”

“Karutin flowers exist?”

For the martial artist Velatura, Karutin flowers didn’t seem very important. Indeed, most people would not even recognize the flower by name.

“Apparently so.”

“So, what?”

“I thought there might be a connection.”

“Connection to what?”

“A secret.”

Velatura also tasted the Moonlight tea. It was quite tasty, he mused, but some just had overly refined tastes. Velatura asked,

“Isn’t it about time you told me? What did you hide on Byungpung Rock?”

The arrangements hidden in the Shadow Wasteland were essentially a joint effort between Deckatra and Velatura. However, Deckatra handled the “Byungpung Rock” matter alone.

“I don’t know.”


“I just followed what Prophet’s Journal had recorded. I didn’t personally arrange the details.”

Velatura scowled.

“And if something happens to my daughter?”

“You promised you wouldn’t raise her like a greenhouse flower,”

Deckatra grinned.

“Can she overtake Lasen then?”

Deckatra was intoxicated with a subtle sense of victory. After reaching the rank of Supreme Being, he had rarely felt such triumph. He was always the victor, having become overly accustomed to winning.

“I had assumed you were confident because you had meticulously arranged something. If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll tear off your neck.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Deckatra closed his eyes slightly.

“Hopefully not, but if the prophet is correct, much will change.”

Lasen and Rosalyn were weary. They discovered a small cave.

“We should rest here a while.”

They had faced many beasts. Large and small, not life-threatening, but challenging due to their numbers. They were worn out.

Rosalyn sat against the cave wall.

“Are we still far from Byungpung Rock?”

“It seems not too far.”

Lasen too leaned against the wall.

“Is it okay to rest like this? There’s no way back.”

“Don’t worry. Beasts can’t enter here.”

The Hangeul had informed him. This was a cave where an ‘ancient being’ once lived, and its energy lingered, preventing beasts from approaching.

Rosalyn tilted her head curiously.

“Feels like I’m recovering quickly.”


Perhaps due to the ‘ancient being’s energy. Lasen and Rosalyn regained their strength and stepped out of the cave. Following the ‘Hangeul signposts,’ they headed towards Byungpung Rock.

After three days of wandering, Lasen and Rosalyn arrived at Byungpung Rock. A massive rock, tall as a screen widely spread.

Lasen approached the rock.

Before Byungpung Rock.

A boulder the size of a human body lay there, where Hangeul was carved, visible only to Lasen.

[Find the key and open Byungpung Rock.]

There was a hole about 10 cm in diameter, seemingly shaped by human hands, smooth in its curvature.

Lasen did not have to think long.

‘As expected.’

The beginning of the arrangement started with the death of the creature disguised as the tribe member.

‘The shape matches the stick.’

Everything here was designed this way. There was no need for plausibility. From his subspace, Lasen took the stick left by the fake tribe member and inserted it into the hole.


An earthquake began.

Byungpung Rock itself shook, nearly impossible to keep balance. Rosalyn looked up.

“What, what is that?”

The vast Byungpung Rock split in two, revealing a path leading upwards.

At the top of that path stood someone.

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