Youngest Son of the Renowned Magic Clan chapter 77

Chapter 77: “Flames of Persha!”

Larsen began to run with Mirang following close behind. The hairs on Mirang’s entire body stood on end. She couldn’t infer much about Persha just from the sight of the flames.

Yet an instinctive fear weighed heavily upon her.

The very Persha responsible for slaughtering her protectors when she was young. Her presence was a traumatic oppression for Mirang.

‘I am scared.’

She was now a fully-grown adult, and ‘Divine Restraints’ were lifted, making her a completely different being. Nonetheless, she was scared. Larsen could sense it too, albeit vaguely.

‘A trauma from her childhood, after all.’

While trauma can last a lifetime, Larsen understood it wasn’t something that could be easily comprehended or processed.

However, he did not have the luxury to cater to Mirang’s current state. The entire region of Hirans was ablaze – the home of Rudia. He didn’t even know what had become of her and it occupied his thoughts constantly.

‘If I were the author, how would I have made a character like Persha act?’

‘Please, let there be no trouble.’

When they reached the province of Hirans, the heat was overpowering, almost too much to approach closely. A figure stood at the entrance.

Red hair. A flushed face.

A woman with a beauty so breathtaking that some might call her a goddess of fire greeted him with a broad, unnerving smile.

“You’ve arrived, my little brother.”

Larsen’s heart pounded. Below Persha’s feet, he saw Rudia, her face crushed under Persha’s foot.

“Just in time to see Evelia’s puppet. Isn’t that your toy as well?”


Larsen felt a surge of anger, but he swallowed it. Expressing fury in front of Persha wouldn’t change anything. However justified anger was, it could not accomplish anything other than worsening the situation.

“What brings you to Hirans?”

“Is there somewhere I shouldn’t be?”

Larsen assessed the situation calmly. Peering with his celestial eyes, it seemed that there were no survivors left in Hirans.

‘Everyone’s dead.’

In the inferno, he could even smell burning flesh.

‘Did it really have to come to this?’

The anger kept building. Rudia’s father must have been there too. Once Rudia regained consciousness, what would her reaction be? What feelings would she harbor?

“You appear to be waiting for me, indicating you have business.”

“Not with you precisely, but her.”

Persha pointed her finger towards Mirang. Mirang flinched with surprise.

“I need the teeth of the Geumho tribe.”

“Why is that?”

“A hobby?”

It was unlikely just a hobby. Persha wouldn’t have taken to hunting the Geumho tribe without good reason.

“The tribe has been difficult to find lately, so I let them be. But there have been sightings of Geumho around here.”

Obviously, Persha’s network was widespread; her having this information wasn’t strange.

“Now that the youngest one is also here, isn’t this a delightful development? Brash little thing. Did you prepare a Geumho for little me?”

Mirang’s tail shook violently. She regarded Larsen with distrustful eyes. Mirang was not herself, highly susceptible to even the smallest of shocks.

‘Mirang, it’s not like that.’

She wasn’t lured or tricked. Her presence was of her own volition.

“You deceived me?”

But Mirang’s reason had deserted her. Her horrific memories took over her mind. Larsen didn’t attempt to console her.

“Sister, the people of Hirans are innocent.”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t die.”

“The Geumho are innocent too.”

“They may be innocent, but necessary to me.”

Actions speak louder than words.

“This Geumho’s name is Mirang, and she will accompany me in my pilgrimage. I have no intention of handing over my companion to you, sister.”

“Is that so?”

Persha stood up, her left foot still trampling on Rudia’s face.

“Then I’ll just have to take it, won’t I?”

Flames danced in Persha’s hand.

“Let’s see how much our youngest has grown.”

Persha pointed her finger at Larsen and blew, like snuffing out a candle.

A fireball launched towards Larsen at a leisurely pace, leisurely dancing as if to taunt him. Larsen didn’t dodge. His celestial eyes perceived the imminent danger.

‘If it hits, I’ll die.’

That small fireball was a veritable bomb. As befitting a 7th-circle mage, that tiny orb had the power to entirely demolish a boulder.

Larsen didn’t close his eyes. He didn’t move. His gaze bored into the approaching fireball.

Persha’s voice sounded,

“If you don’t dodge, you’ll die.”

The flickering fireball drew closer. Larsen stood his ground, shielding Mirang.

“If I dodge, my companion will die.”

The fireball touched Larsen’s chest.

In an instant,


The fireball vanished.

“It seems you know quite well that I cannot harm you.”

Unnoticed by all, Larsen breathed a sigh of relief. He had truly believed he was about to die. Persha was unpredictable, despite the limits set by the narrative.

“You, more than anyone, desire to become the family head. You cannot attack me while I’m a pilgrim.”

Freedom from sibling attack during a pilgrimage was part of the universe the author had created, strictly enacted in the family law by Decatra. Persha, vying for the head’s position, would surely adhere to these laws, Larsen surmised.

“Yet you maintain composure in such a situation.”


Persha laughed again broadly. Her eyes were filled with interest.

“But what about this?”


“Can you keep your calm now?”

From her hand emerged a whip made of fire. Before anyone could act, it struck Rudia’s shoulder.


Flames enveloped Rudia’s shoulder, and the whip dug deep. In a flash, her left arm severed.

Larsen nearly screamed.


Rudia lost her arm. She was meant to become the ‘one-armed mage’ just as Cha Sung-min had originally planned in the story. Unconscious, she didn’t react.


Larsen was truly furious, but feeling helpless and frustrated that he could do nothing.

“Feeling frustrated? Angry?”

Persha laughed maliciously.

“That is the nature of weakness, little brother.”


“Weaklings always suffer under the rule of the strong, always robbed and wronged. Yet they can do nothing. That’s the rule and principle of the world.”

Persha looked at Larsen.

“So, what will you do, little brother?”


“If you sit idly, the other arm may be lost too.”

Larsen didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward like a spring unleashed.


Persha gleefully exclaimed.

“Come! If you can make me take even a step, you win. If you win, I’ll return both the Geumho and your toy to you.”

“You’d better keep that promise.”

“Rise to the challenge then!”

The fire-whip that cut Rudia’s shoulder lashed towards Larsen. Like a snake opening its maw, it aimed at him. Larsen allowed himself to be caught.

“That was easy, wasn’t it?”

As Persha pulled Larsen in, he propelled forward, charging at her.

“Mages are always so graceful and dignified in battle.”

They despise close quarters combat, considering it barbaric and dirty.

But Larsen was different.

Persha couldn’t inflict serious injury. She would be regulating her power now.

Just enough force to harm a second circle. Larsen felt mana belonging to the fire attribute surging into his body as if it would burn his heart away.

[Devour it!]

But Persha was unaware. Larsen was no ordinary second circle. He possessed an additional sub-circle, the Holy Grail, which consumed the flame attribute mana eagerly.

‘I can withstand it.’

Persha’s smile widened as she conjured a round flame shield.

“You’ll burn if you touch it.”

Yet, Larsen didn’t stop. Persha’s expression turned serious.


Larsen breached her embrace. The shield’s flames touched him but surprisingly, he was fine. Persha’s eyes widened slightly.

“You… engraved flames on your body?”

He acted like a fire mage; mages with affinity towards fire possess a certain resistance to fire magic.

[I am the magnificent Holy Grail of Fire!]

It wasn’t Larsen, but the grail within him that protected him from the flames. Also, the robe given by Evelia protected Larsen from the flame shield. These combined forces allowed him to penetrate the flame barrier.

“You must have calculated my strength precisely, sister.”

She couldn’t seriously injure or kill him, so showing strength beyond her calculations was necessary. Larsen gripped Persha tightly, as if to break her ribs. It was of no use. Persha’s mana enveloped her in protection.

‘It’s hot.’

Embracing Persha felt like burning alive.

[It’s too hot!]

The transcendent grail seemed to have reached its limit, with no capacity left to absorb any more fire attribute mana.

[In any more strength, I might shatter.]

Persha’s left foot wouldn’t budge as if nailed to the ground. Her right hand reached for Larsen’s head.

“Smart, but not graceful. Our youngest really doesn’t know elegance.”

Flames sprouted from the hand.

“Still, it’s entertaining. A little brother so fervently struggling to be held in his sister’s arms, how adorable.”

The flames from the hand engulfed Larsen completely. Burns started to appear across his body.

“Your resistance to flames exceeds my expectations. This robe seems special too. Where did you acquire such an artifact?”

He didn’t mention that it was a gift from Evelia.

‘What to do…’

How could he make Persha move?

‘The variable is Mirang.’

Larsen spoke,

“The world always changes when those who once could do nothing start to make their move, sister.”

Mirang approached. He felt her presence, stealthy and swift.

* * *

A few minutes earlier.

Mirang had heard Persha’s words.

“If you sit idly, the other arm may also be severed.”

Just before Larsen charged, he had spoken,

“Your inner fears. You must overcome them.”

Upon hearing that, Mirang could do nothing.

She could only watch Larsen desperately flail. In her eyes, Larsen was the epitome of helplessness.

“That’s the nature of weakness, little brother. Weaklings always suffer under the rule of the strong, always robbed and wronged. Yet they can do nothing. That’s the rule and principle of the world.”

Larsen’s desperation was a fresh shock to the paralyzed Mirang.

“The world always changes when the powerless start to move, sister.”

Larsen’s words drove Mirang into action. Doing nothing meant the world would remain unchanged. Mirang regained her composure.

[Your inner fears. You must conquer them.]

My inner fears. I must conquer them. They must be overcome on my own to mean anything.

And conquer she did.

At that moment, with her fear cast aside, she felt a surge of new vitality. Swifter than usual, thanks to the lifted Divine Restraint.

Persha didn’t expect it. She was much faster than any Geumho Persha had known.


In that moment of ‘huh’, Mirang’s fierce claws raked Persha’s shoulder. Blood spurted. A moment of inattention, an underestimation of the Geumho’s full strength, and a focus solely on Larsen produced this outcome.

Persha’s arm fell to the ground, severed just like Rudia’s.

[A significant ‘variable’ has affected the story.]

The usual interpretation of the celestial eyes had changed. Not just a ‘variable’, but a ‘significant variable’ had occurred. The flames enveloping Larsen died down.

Persha’s own arm lay fallen on the earth. Alternating her gaze between it and Mirang, she began to cackle.

‘This is interesting. Really interesting.’

Losing an arm didn’t bother her at all. She’d procured the appearance of maintaining calm composure, but it was apparent to see.

It was fun to watch her little brother seethe, and she was curious about what would become of Rudia.

‘Those Hirans. Should I have killed them for real?’

She had made it seem like she killed everyone in the province of Hirans.

But guided by San Dao, they had all been forcibly relocated to ‘Ban Perignon Village.’

No one had died, though she made it look that way, which was strange for Persha.

Usually, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill, but somehow she didn’t want to. So she spared them.

‘I suppose real killing would have been the most fun.’

But then, her little brother might genuinely hate her.

For reasons unclear, she didn’t wish to be truly despised by her brother.

‘Take today as a lesson.’

She hoped he would never forget today’s anger, frustration, or sorrow.

It would fuel Larsen’s growth. And that little fiery brat, his ‘toy,’ might just awaken, too.

‘An arm can be reattached.’

It was odd, indeed.

She could have done far worse to prevent reattachment if she chose to.

But she hadn’t.

Even to Persha herself, this restraint was unusual. She might have inflicted permanent damage in her usual manner.

‘I must admit I’ve become soft, heehee.’

She valued the brat’s potential highly. Surely their potential would…

[Continued in next episode…]

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