Count’s Youngest Son is a Warlock

‘…?’

Lucion’s eyes widened in alarm.

Hotram’s pupils turned jet black in an instant, veins bulging grotesquely across his face. He looked like someone completely consumed by corruption.

—Huh! The black orb doesn’t like that bad man!

Ratta gasped in surprise, while Russell’s expression darkened.

[That’s right. It’s a rejection response.]

‘A rejection response?’ Lucion bit his lip, unease washing over him.

Wasn’t the power of the black orb supposed to be from Veronia?

[Shaela and Carson can’t fight right now,] Bethel explained, sensing Lucion’s growing worry.

Realizing the urgency, Lucion made his decision.
“Cut through the space like before! Follow me, Rental!”

“Yes!” Hume responded firmly, quickly falling into step behind Lucion.

“Now!”

At Lucion’s command, Heint persuaded the hesitant Elder.

It was time they trapped Hotram, just as he had trapped them.

“We need to act now! Elder, please!”

The Elder glanced briefly at Shaela and Carson—Carson with his sword poised against the remaining warlocks—and then nodded resolutely.

“I understand!”

With the Elder’s response, a thick line soon appeared behind Lucion.

“Carson, Shaela! Watch outside! Oh, and Lucion will be safe! And I’ve sent a signal, so the knights and Ale will come soon!”

Heint rushed to Lucion’s side just as the shimmering line began to split the area.

“…?”

Lucion couldn’t hide his bewilderment.

“What are you doing here? Are you insane? That man is incredibly dangerous. Get out, now!”

“How could I let you face this alone after everything? I owe you too much,” Heint said with a grin. “Besides, it’s too late for me to leave now.”

Creak.

The space finished splitting, a thick wall forming between their original position and the newly created area.

“Three is better than two,” Heint quipped.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the lightbringer! Have you forgotten that?” Lucion’s anger flared.

Hotram was far too dangerous. He wasn’t just wielding the power of the black orb anymore—he was utterly unhinged. The writhing darkness surrounding him was no laughing matter.

“I’m pretty good at measuring distances and maintaining space,” Heint countered confidently.

Before he finished speaking, Heint widened the gap between them and charged toward Hume, who had already taken position.

‘Damn it.’

Lucion’s gaze shifted to the red thread connecting him to Heint.

Was this thread the reason? Or was it fate that led Heint, a man who had to defeat the Hand of the Void boss in the worst circumstances, to stand beside him now?

It didn’t matter.

They needed to finish this—perfectly.

Lucion gripped his sword with one hand, his other hand swirling with waves of darkness.

“I don’t know how to hold back, so watch out,” Lucion warned.

“Of course,” Heint replied, then paused. “Ah, what’s your name…?”

“Rental.”

Hume darted forward, encasing Hotram’s legs in ice before swinging her greatsword in a powerful arc.

Whoosh!

Bang!

Hotram’s darkness collided with Hume’s ice. The frozen darkness shattered and began to fall apart.

Taking advantage of the moment, Lucion surged forward, striking Hotram’s face with a concentrated wave of darkness.

Thwack!

Hotram groaned and staggered back, clutching the black orb tightly.

“Rise, dead!” Hotram roared.

Thomp. Thomp.

The ground shook, and the warlocks who had just died rose again as corpses.

“Not a chance,” Lucion growled.

He unleashed his darkness, its violet hue expanding outward as he used the blood he had spilled as a medium to command the corpses.

“Return to rest, spirits of the dead.”

The risen corpses burned to ash as they touched Lucion’s violet darkness, disintegrating into nothingness.

Hotram coughed up blood as his black magic failed.

—Hehe! Lucion’s darkness is stronger! Ratta knows!

Ratta’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

Clang!

Lucion turned, startled, as Bethel intercepted an attack. Hotram had attempted to strike from behind, but Bethel’s blade sliced through the encroaching darkness.

[It’s coming.]

At Bethel’s warning, Lucion stepped back.

Heint dashed forward, his sword cutting through the air, before unleashing a radiant burst of light.

Light, the ultimate counter to darkness, seared through Hotram’s defenses.

“Ugh!”

Hotram’s body recoiled, a sickening sound like melting flesh filling the air.

Heint swung his sword diagonally, aiming for Hotram’s heart.

Ting!

The thick darkness surrounding Hotram deflected the attack, but Heint surrounded himself with a sphere of light, melting the darkness attempting to engulf him.

Sizzle.

Through the melted darkness, a sharp light resembling a spear pierced through Hotram’s chest.

“Cough!”

Hotram gasped, blood spurting from his mouth.

Meanwhile, the air grew icy and still.

Hume, standing at a distance, exhaled sharply. Above Hotram, a series of enormous icicles formed.

As Heint quickly withdrew his light, Lucion’s darkness that had risen from Hotram’s shadow pierced his legs.

‘Lock his legs, darkness.’

At Lucion’s command, black stars appeared around Hotram’s legs.

“Puhaha!”

Hotram suddenly burst into laughter, his voice echoing through the room with an intensity that belied his battered body.

His blackened eyes turned toward the ceiling.

“Come! Come to me…!”

Hotram muttered incomprehensible words, his tone wild and ecstatic. Hume, unimpressed, released the icicles with a cold, indifferent expression.

Plop.

But the darkness seeping from the black orb struck the falling icicles like spears, shattering them midair and sending shards flying toward Hume.

Crack!

Hume swiftly deflected the shards with his greatsword, his eyes narrowing as he noticed a thin, nearly invisible thread of darkness heading straight for him.

Snap!

Before the darkness could reach Hume’s head, Russell snapped his fingers, dispelling it instantly.

[That guy… something’s not right,] Russell muttered, his expression grim.

The situation was clearly in their favor—three against one—yet an inexplicable sense of foreboding hung in the air.

‘He’s right. This feels… wrong.’

Lucion’s unease deepened.

The scene felt eerily similar to when Veronia had opened the door and stepped into their world.

At that moment, darkness erupted across the entire floor, spreading like a rising tide.

Sensing danger, Hume drove his greatsword into the ceiling, simultaneously creating a thick layer of ice beneath Lucion’s feet to shield him.

Heint surrounded himself with light, leaping toward the ceiling before thrust his sword there.

“What the hell is that?” Heint asked as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

The darkness on the floor writhed and churned like a living ocean.

—A-A sea of death!

Ratta’s panicked voice pierced the tense silence.

“It’s corruption! Rental, get out of there!” Lucion shouted urgently.

If Ravien was fully corrupted, he would become a true monster.

“Hello.”

A chill ran down Lucion’s spine.

The voice—Hotram’s voice—sounded calm and unnervingly warm. But the tone, the inflection, was unmistakably Veronia’s.

Lucion froze as goosebumps spread across his skin.

Hotram—no, Veronia—turned his gaze to Hume, his blackened eyes softening with what seemed like affection.

[Is… is that him?] Bethel’s voice trembled as she spoke.

The presence emanating from Hotram felt overwhelming, like standing before an insurmountable wall.

[Possession…?]

Russell stared at Hotram, his expression dazed.

A living being possessed by another living being—it defied all known rules.

Hotram casually raised his hand, and several corpses appeared before Lucion.

Their eyes were covered by black cloth, and though their chests had gaping holes, Lucion recognized them immediately.

‘Cronia and the royal knights…’

His heart clenched painfully at the sight.

But Bethel didn’t hesitate. She lifted Lucion’s hand and swung the sword, slicing through the corpses.

[Snap out of it, Lord Lucion! He’s desecrating the dead! Do not let him shake you!]

Bethel’s voice snapped Lucion out of his stupor.

He released a wave of violet darkness, obliterating the corpses in front of him.

Hotram laughed, his voice rich with amusement.

“There are more.”

A cold dread crept up Lucion’s back. He turned to see dozens of corpses rising from the ground, their bodies twitching grotesquely as they moved.

‘Light…’

Corruption below, light ahead—the situation was growing dire.

“Young master!”

Hume landed beside Lucion, positioning himself protectively as the corpses lunged forward, fists raised in unison.

“Bang,” Hotram said gleefully, and an explosion of light followed.

Russell’s eyes trembled. It was dangerous.

“I will not die again. No matter what happens, I will not die.”

Even Lucion, who had resistance to light, could not withstand that brightness.

“So, please don’t substitute for me.”

Lucion’s voice echoed in his mind, but what did it matter?

[Lucion!]

As Russell stretched his arms out and stood before Lucion, at that moment, the black thread connecting them became visible.

Lucion’s heart began to race violently.

The black thread trembled.

***

T/N: This scene is a memory from Lucion’s past.

《 “I—I am not! I am not a—a warlock!”

Lucion’s voice trembled as he stumbled backward.

His heart raced, feeling as though it might burst from the pressure. The cold, judgmental stares of those around him were unbearable.

‘Father! Brother!’

Desperately, he searched for Novio and Carson, but they were nowhere to be found.

Where had they gone?

“As the High Priest of Nevast, it is my duty to eradicate evil beings of darkness!” the High Priest bellowed, his voice reverberating through the room.

The light flickering in the High Priest’s hand sent waves of agony through Lucion’s body, forcing

him to writhe in pain.

Dozens of priests entered the room, their combined radiance intensifying the torment.

“Cough…”

Blood splattered as Lucion finally succumbed to the overwhelming light. His body trembled uncontrollably.

[Lucion.]

Russell’s voice broke through the haze, his smile faint yet brimming with worry.

[When I create a path, run through the window. Don’t look back—just run.]

“Russell?” Lucion croaked, his voice weak and strained.

[No matter what you say, I am your teacher. Russell Paul, your teacher.]

Russell summoned darkness, and night fell in the room.

Crash!

All the windows shattered.

[Run!]

At Russell’s urging, Lucion hesitated.

[Run! This time, please listen to me, Lucion!]

With tears in his eyes at Russell’s desperate expression, Lucion fled through the broken window.

Amid the shouts of the High Priest and the searing bursts of light, he ran, coughing blood with every step.

He didn’t know how far he had gone or how long he had been running.

When his body finally gave out, he collapsed onto his back, staring at the endless sky above.

His cracked lips moved weakly.

“Russell.”

The voice that always seemed to nag him was silent now.

“…Russell.”

No matter how many times he called out, no matter how desperately he screamed, Russell did not appear.

Silent sobs wracked Lucion’s body, his heart aching with the weight of loss.

“Teacher.”

For the first time, the title he had never used slipped from his lips, reluctant yet sincere.》

***

Lucion gritted his teeth, shaking off the memory that surfaced so vividly. Without hesitation, he used his darkness to push Russell aside, his resolve unshakable.

He would not let Russell die.

“Damn…!”

What the hell was Hamel looking at as he swung the darkness around?

Heint extended his hand, gathering light and hurling it at Hotram. Even though he had saved almost half of the light, the blast eradicated nearly half of the corruption writhing on the ground.

“Cough!”

Lucion fell back, blood spilling from his mouth. It seeped beneath his mask and soaked his shoes.

Ratta gasped in shock, her small form trembling within his shadow.

“Hey. Are you… okay?” Heint approached quickly, supporting Lucion’s weakened body.

Lucion turned his head, avoiding Russell’s stunned gaze.

It was done.

He was alive.

“Get up! A…Cough!” Lucion shouted toward Hume, but his body convulsed, and more blood erupted from his mouth.

“You’re hurt too, huh? I was in a lot of pain, you know,” Hotram remarked with a wry smile, his body bleeding even more profusely than Lucion’s.

Ignoring his own injuries, Veronia began gathering the darkness within Hotram, intensifying its power.

Russell, filled with rage, struck back the darkness directed at Lucion with his own darkness.

The air around Hotram began to distort, vibrating unnaturally as he turned his gaze to Russell.

“Ah, right. It was you. The only one who recognized me. Looking at your face, I finally remember,” Hotram said with a smirk.

[I don’t know a bastard like you!]

Boom!

Russell clenched his outstretched hand into a fist, causing the darkness to explode. Some of the flesh from Hotram’s shoulder and waist, which had been cut by Bethel, flew away.

“Oh dear. I was already dying, and now it seems I really don’t have much time left.”

Huff.

Lucion exhaled sharply, his chest boiling with fury.

The darkness whispered to him, urging him to kill the man before him.

Even the remaining black darkness was rapidly changing to violet.

—Ratta doesn’t cry. I’ll cry later.

Ratta’s voice trembled with determination as she released the violet darkness. From within Lucion’s shadow, she glared fiercely at Veronia, who had overtaken Hotram’s body.

Lucion let out a dry chuckle as he expanded the darkness radiating from his hand, using the blood he had spilled as payment.

[Lord Lucion.]

Bethel called out to him, her voice hesitant, but she left her sentence unfinished.

What burned in Lucion’s chest wasn’t mere anger—it was an unyielding determination.

His family had been attacked. His only teacher was in danger of disappearing.

[Let’s go.]

“Yeah,” Lucion replied, his grip tightening around his sword.

As the violet darkness burned away the corruption, Lucion used it as a slingshot to propel himself toward Hotram, thrusting his sword with all his strength.

—Stay still!

Ratta snarled, commanding the darkness that Veronia had summoned to freeze.

Whoosh.

The violet darkness surrounding the sword pierced Hotram’s chest.

“Veronia…!”

As Lucion shouted the name, he could see the entity that had possessed Hotram.

Veronia appeared flustered.

It wasn’t a soul nor a corpse; that strange form was something Lucion couldn’t focus on at the moment.

But one thing was clear.

He could reach that bastard.

As Hotram staggered back, Lucion closed the distance, wrapping his other hand in darkness and seizing the bastard’s head.

Sizzle!

A sound like something burning echoed through the air.

The price of blood made the sound grow louder.

“One eye—I’ll take it!”

“Arghhhhh!”

Hotram and Veronia screamed in unison.

As Veronia thrashed, flailing his arms, Lucion was knocked back, a forceful blow landing on his chest.

But Russell was there, supporting Lucion so he wouldn’t fall.

[You can get back up, right?]

Lucion nodded at Russell’s question.

“Fuck. Fucking… bastard! Fucking asshole…!”

Hotram grasped his face, darkness pouring from him in thick, viscous waves.

—Huh! Stop! Wait!

Ratta shouted, but the darkness didn’t stop—it kept attacking Lucion.

Slash. Slash.

Bethel moved quickly, constantly blocking the strikes with her sword, trying to shield Lucion as best she could.

Ha.

One final step before reaching Hotram.

Lucion took a steadying breath, and Bethel did the same, their hearts pounding in unison.

Lifting her sword, Bethel struck with perfect precision and power. With nearly all of Lucion’s darkness channeled into it, she pierced Veronia’s burning right eye.

Shunk!

“AAAAAAH!”

Veronia’s scream was accompanied by a surge of darkness that swept over Lucion’s mask.

Crack.

The mask shattered, and his crimson hair began to shift, turning into a blend of blue and gray.

But Lucion didn’t stop.

Using the curse’s power that darkness had taught him, he moved his finger in a horizontal figure-eight.

‘Your pierced eye will never see again.’

It was a binding power beyond a simple curse.

Lucion saw the black star etched into the bastard’s eye, then turned his head and called out.

“Heint!”

At this point, it was Heint who held the key to ending all of this.

Lucion took a step back, meeting Heint’s gaze, which wavered.

But Heint didn’t falter.

In that fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and Heint seemed to silently communicate:

You’ve done well. Leave the rest to me.

From behind Lucion, light began to spread.

It was warm, like the first rays of sunlight after a long night, and the sound Lucion had been waiting to hear finally rang out around him.

Crisp.

The red thread that had connected to the Hand of the Void was severed.

Finally.

At last, the red thread connecting to Heint was cut.