Youngest Son of the Renowned Magic Clan chapter 127

Youngest Son of the Renowned Magic Clan

Chapter 127 of “The Youngest Son of the Magic Family”

“However, those not part of the entourage must remove their masks before I decide to cut off fingers.”

Several masked individuals flinched. Kashin took a step back.

He had relinquished control of the situation to Rasen. He neither wished to vie with Rasen for dominance nor doubted Rasen’s ability to handle the circumstances.

Rasen spoke again,

“And you, knowing full well who I am, will pay for your deception.”

Rasen walked toward a man who was crouching down.

“One last chance. What is your name?”

“My name is… Dave.”

“Pleased to meet you. My name is Rasen Mayton, the seventh son of the Mayton family.”

Despite having already introduced himself, Rasen deliberately repeated his name and reached out for a handshake. Dave awkwardly extended his hand and Rasen gripped it.


Dave screamed in pain,


Rasen had crushed his hand. His grip was beyond what an ordinary person could withstand.

“What are you waiting for? Take off the mask.”

Several masked individuals removed their masks. They were neither swordsmen nor mages, and they showed no signs of martial arts training. They were perfectly ordinary people, equipped instead with quick eyes, notebooks, and pens. They were reporters from a news service.

Rasen had deduced that some of these masked individuals were reporters based on information leaked by Persha.

‘Hanker is the drug lord. The Northern Basin is synonymous with drugs and pleasure. If I enter and am guided and treated by Hanker… a very favorable picture will be painted.’

Reporters couldn’t write ‘false’ articles. That would be an insult to the Mayton. However, if they reported based only on facts, there would be no justification for the Maytons to intervene.

‘Just listing the facts will be enough to bury the seventh son socially.’

Moreover, Rasen was known for his infamously poor behavior. Burying him would be an easy task. However, it’s unlikely that Persha would desire such an outcome.

‘Is this a prank by big sister? Or is there another motive hidden?’

Persha’s intentions remained unclear.

‘Perhaps one or two of these disguised reporters are Persha’s loyal followers.’

The situation became clear. The only regret was that instead of killing the man who introduced himself as Dave, he had crushed his hand, which was the Mayton way. But he couldn’t go that far.

Demonstrating the ‘Mayton way,’ Rasen’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to kill a lowly servant who was essentially innocent.

Dave’s arm trembled. He was still shaking from the pain.

“Why, why do this?”

“If you really don’t know, then I’ll have to crush your spine next time.”

That man was not Dave. The Heavenly Eye revealed it. That man’s name was Duron.

“If you continue to deceive me, I won’t ask you — I will hold Dave accountable. And next time it won’t be so light.”

Rasen looked up at a tree. A small bird was perched there. He looked at the bird and said,

“Final warning. Show yourself, Dave. You have three minutes.”

The bird took to the sky.

* * *

Dave, who had been watching the situation through his familiar bird, was taken aback.

‘He read everything?’

There had been rumors that the debauched seventh son had changed, but Dave had paid them little heed. There were too many things to worry about in the world, and information about a debauched seventh son from beyond the Black Sea was not a priority.

‘3 minutes.’

It was a precisely calculated time frame. If he ran at full speed, he would barely make it to the specified location. He had intended to bide his time by slowly preparing an illusion formation.

He had considered showing himself in a pitiful, naked state in front of the reporters. But that would have been a perfect failure. Now, he couldn’t even use illusion formations.

He laughed bitterly,

‘Got hit in one shot.’

The terrain here wasn’t suitable for equine transportation, which meant he had to run.

‘It can’t be helped.’

He sprinted, running at full throttle for three minutes. Naturally, he was out of breath by the end of it.

Pant! Pant!

Dave arrived in front of Rasen, gasping for air.

“Dave. I apologize. Please forgive me for deceiving you, young master.”

“You deceived the Maytons. Think that’s forgivable?”

Dave could only admit it was a complete defeat in this first encounter. Fortunately, he wasn’t the type to insist on pointless pride.

“I’m sorry.”

Dave took out a knife and cut off one of his fingers. Blood flowed, but no one was perturbed. Rasen gave a single nod.

“I’ll permit reattachment.”

It was a sign of forgiveness.

“…Thank you.”

Rasen waited a moment, allowing the assembled reporters enough time to document the panting Dave.

Some of them probably even had recording devices from the magic civilization. With this incident alone, Rasen Mayton of the pilgrimage could gain a small achievement.

The headlines will change now:

‘In the city of entertainment and pleasure, the debauched seventh son is treated by Hanker and Dave.’

‘The seventh son of Mayton forces the drug lord’s second in command to kneel and cut off his own finger for forgiveness.’

The difference between the two was immense.

* * *

Dave acknowledged his defeat. He had underestimated the seventh son. He had to admit it was too easy.

‘Turns out the rumors were true.’

He hadn’t paid much attention to news from across the Black Sea about the seventh son. Even though stories get distorted, the rumors of debauchery were largely misconstrued. Finishing a simple treatment on his wound, Dave inquired,

“I shall personally attend you under Hanker’s orders. Is that acceptable to you?”


Rasen shook his head.

“I have no need for a meeting with the drug lord. We are just here to…”

He deliberately paused, ensuring everyone could hear him clearly,

“secure my father’s arrangement and return.”

A silence fell. The reporters’ eyes shifted rapidly.

Now it was a game of perception. Rasen Mayton’s father, the great sorcerer Decatra, had been mentioned.

Additionally, he had referred to him not as ‘lord’ but as ‘father,’ suggesting a personal rather than public arrangement. People are more sensitive to personal issues than public affairs, and it’s easier to dramatize the content.

Dave realized Rasen’s intentions.

‘Reporters will be drawn to such content. However, it’s hard to exploit the name of the great sorcerer so casually. By shifting the focus and the topic to Decatra, he prevented the reporters from acting rashly. All with just one phrase.’

Dave asked,

“Is Lord Mayton’s arrangement… within our territory?”

Kashin interjected,

“It is not your land but that of Sayd. Speak accurately.”

With that, Kashin revealed his identity. Dave had to steady his breathing. That boy was undoubtedly Kashin Sayd, unrecognizable because Sayd had never shown his face publicly.

‘The seventh son of Mayton. The second son of Sayd is here for Decatra’s arrangement?’

Dave bowed.

“My apologies. You are right. It is the territory of Sayd.”

Had it not been for Sayd’s domain, even Decatra might have trampled them. Hanker smiled smugly.

“He wouldn’t hide an arrangement in this despised place and send his son for it. That arrogant brat knows that—why would he lie?”

“It’s a lie, but it was effective. We’ve become unable to invite Rasen and his party.”

Dave continued,

“It also benefits Decatra. It demonstrates that he could plant an arrangement without the Drug King noticing. And the fact that the seventh son on pilgrimage has performed admirably showcases the strength of Mayton. That’s probably why he deliberately called him ‘father’ instead of ‘lord’. While selling out your lord is unforgivable, selling out your father may be pardonable.”

“Quite a cunning brat.”

Hanker licked his lips.

“I’m fond of such cunning.”

She licked her lips.

“I’ll be back shortly.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just want to see what the kid looks like.”

“Hanker. Remember, he’s a Mayton, even if he’s just a brat.”

“So what?”

Hanker dove out of her 12th-floor office. Her cape fluttered. She landed softly on the ground and began to walk slowly.

“The debauched seventh son of Mayton.”

She smirked. Her smile kept leaking out. She hadn’t felt this excited for a long time.

“You’ve piqued my interest.”

What’s more interesting, even with the presence of the genius ‘Kashin Sayd’ nearby, it was Rasen, not Kashin, who had drawn all attention and shaped the situation. That fact was also enormously intriguing.

“Just. Let’s meet.”

* * *

They entered the Northern Basin, a basin geography where walls were unnecessary. The night there was bright. Rasen’s party decided to stay at an inn.

The first floor served as a dining area.

As Rasen had said, the area was relatively safe. No one caused trouble, each quietly enjoying their meal.

Succulent pork roasted with sweet seasonings. It was delicious.

Kashin was quite satisfied with the meal. After dining, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. Luidia’s face was smeared with seasoning as she patted her belly contentedly, seemingly filled with a pleasant fullness.

Kashin remarked,

“Here. The taste is quite good.”


Kashin chuckled lightly,

“Not just good, but exceptional?”

“Right. It’s like someone paid special attention to it.”

Kashin nodded again.

“Yeah. It seems like someone did take special care. It’s the work of a first-class chef.”

“Is this place known for its cuisine?”

“It doesn’t seem so. There’s a noticeable difference in food quality between our table and the others around us.”

Someone had clearly gone out of their way. Kashin addressed towards the kitchen,

“First-class chef.”

Though not loud, his voice clearly carried. Softly, yet far-reaching, he directed his words toward the kitchen.

“With the second-in-command heeding our warning and leaving, the only one who would approach us is the first-in-command. I am Kashin Sayd, the second son of Sayd. I formally reveal my identity.”

At that moment, all the lights in the inn went out.


The wind blew.

An unidentified ‘magic formation’ activated, one that was intricately constructed.

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