Count’s Youngest Son is a Warlock Chapter 158 - Pilgrimage Route

 

 

* * *

 

Lucion closed his eyes tightly.

 

Stairs, huh?

 

As he turned around, he saw Heint waving his hand from afar.

 

‘I’ll endure it for the macarons.’

 

Lucion confirmed his appetite.

 

―Shall Ratta give you a piggyback ride?

 

Because Ratta was sincere, Lucion burst into laughter.

 

“If you were a bit bigger.”

 

―Like a tree?

 

“Yeah. If you were as big as a tree, then you could give me a ride.”

 

―Got it! Ratta will definitely give you a ride. Ratta said it with a big smile.

 

“In that case, I’ll carry you instead of Ratta,” Hume said, approaching Lucion and crouching down to offer his back.

 

Lucion frowned.

 

It was comfortable, but he didn’t feel quite right.

 

[It’s not the time to be prideful.] Russell teased Lucion with a mischievous look.

 

“I know.”

 

[Didn’t the doctor tell you to be careful?]

 

Bethel, unlike Russell, spoke with genuine concern.

 

“Yeah.” Lucion sighed briefly. There was no point in being stubborn.

 

―Oh? Lucion, Lucion.

 

Ratta, who was climbing the stairs alone, suddenly rushed down and grabbed the hem of Lucion’s pants.

 

“Why?”

 

―They tell me to come this way.

 

“Who?”

 

―The darkness.

 

“What?”

 

―Ratta was going up the stairs when darkness peered from the other side and beckoned.

 

“Guide me.”

 

Lucion furrowed his brow slightly, not wanting to be carried by Hume.

 

What does the darkness want, exactly? 

 

Lucion knew that the darkness, though not as abundant as light, also roamed the surroundings. 

 

However, he felt a particularly strong sense of it lingering near him.

 

As Lucion followed Ratta, he saw a wooden house. 

 

As if the old woman knew Lucion would come, she came out and greeted Lucion politely.

 

“Have you come, Lord Lucion Cronia?”

 

Suddenly, Lucion’s gaze was drawn to a red thread that had appeared out of nowhere. The pilgrimage route mentioned in the novel was not a significant place, only briefly mentioned as ‘There is a pilgrimage route in the north.’

 

But a red thread?

 

Lucion looked at the old woman with suspicious eyes.

 

“Did you know I was coming?”

 

“Yes. It was whispered to me. It said a distinguished guest had arrived.”

 

‘Who whispered that?’ Lucion rolled his eyes at the old woman’s words.

 

‘Is she a warlock? Don’t tell me…’

 

[Lucion. She might be suspicious, but I can assure you, she’s not a warlock.]

 

Russell said clearly.

 

[But there’s an unusual amount of darkness around here.] Russell continued, looking around with his arms crossed.

 

―Right. There’s a lot of darkness. Does it all smile at Ratta? Ratta would smile back, too.

 

Ratta’s tail was wagging.

 

“My name is ‘Asha’ and I’m in charge of the pilgrimage here.”

 

She smiled softly.

 

“Isn’t the pilgrimage route over there?” Lucion pointed to the place he had come from.

 

Why are there stairs?

 

“Yes, that is also a pilgrimage route. However, this place exists for distinction,” Asha explained.

 

“A distinction?”

 

“I have been waiting for your arrival.”

 

Asha’s words sent a chill down Lucion’s spine.

 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re talking about an invitation. Why have you been waiting for me?”

 

“Of course, it’s natural for me to wait for the one chosen by the darkness.”

 

“The darkness? You must be joking.”

 

Lucion felt the urge to take a step back immediately. How could someone boldly associate themselves with darkness without being a warlock?

 

Lucion tried to remain calm. “Do you realize how dangerous your words were just now? Let’s just pretend I didn’t hear that.”

 

“It’s okay. This place is safe.”

 

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

 

Lucion frowned slightly, showing his discomfort.

 

“I understand if you’re wary of mentioning it, but I’m fine. While it may be an undeserved title, you can consider me a servant of darkness.”

 

Asha smiled warmly and took a step closer to Lucion.

 

―They were born from the darkness and became followers of the darkness.

 

For a moment, Lucion remembered what the Black Brother had mentioned.

 

‘No, it can’t be.’

 

As Asha cautiously extended her hand, darkness rippled from her palm. 

 

It transformed into a butterfly-like shape and perched on Lucion’s shoulder.

 

‘What the… What is this?’ Lucion froze.

 

‘If she is not a dark sorcerer, then what is she?’ Lucion’s resentful gaze made Russell feel unjustly accused.

 

[She’s not a warlock I’m telling you, she’s not a real warlock.]

 

[Then, how can you explain the darkness just now?]

 

[I don’t know, and it’s driving me crazy!]

 

Russell clenched his fists as he looked at Bethel.

 

“As I mentioned earlier, I am merely a servant of the darkness, possessing only a few tricks up my sleeve,” Asha replied.

 

“…?”

 

[Huh?]

 

Both Lucion and Russell paused.

 

[Can she see us?]

 

Bethel asked in surprise, realizing that she hadn’t concealed herself, yet Asha seemed aware of their presence even though she wasn’t a warlock.

 

“I can’t see you. I can only hear you.”

 

Asha shook her head.

 

“Do not be afraid. As a servant of darkness, I will keep today’s events a secret, and they will remain preserved even after my death.”

 

“You know that death is not the end, right?”

 

Lucion no longer denied it.

 

There was no need to fear once they were exposed.

 

“No. For me, death is the end. I am sustained by the darkness; I am a living being,” Asha said.

 

“Sustained by the darkness?” Hume asked hesitantly.

 

It seemed similar to him.

 

Hume, too, was sustained by the darkness and moved.

 

“I am the one who inherited the forgotten blood of Ravien. I am both human and not human,” Asha explained with a smile, pointing to herself.

 

Lucion, with a slightly shocked expression, did not say anything but asked, “Did you just say Ravien?”

 

“Do you know about Ravien, that name?” Asha reacted strongly, trembling with both hands.

 

She looked at Lucion desperately, as if she were about to burst into tears.

 

‘Is there some connection between Ravien and my fate?’

 

Lucion licked his lips slightly. 

 

“What on earth is Ravien?”

 

“Born from darkness, a servant of darkness.”

 

Asha answered Lucion’s question without any hesitation.

 

‘… driving me crazy. That black figure’s words are exactly what she just said.’

 

Lucion managed his expression, resisting the urge to hit his forehead.

 

Ravien was right.

 

The ‘servant of darkness’ mentioned by the black figure was Ravien.

 

He couldn’t believe it, but it seemed to be true.

 

“In the world, they are called ‘monsters,'” Asha continued.

 

Lucion was not surprised by Asha’s words.

 

But Russell, Bethel, and Hume were different.

 

Hume, in particular, was so surprised that he was almost astonished.

 

When Hume had the power of ice, he thought that he might not be a monster but Ravien.

 

In reality, the monster and Ravien were the same thing.

 

“Is it really Ravien? Is Ravien the one called ‘monster’?” Hume asked, his voice trembling.

 

He was not a defective product.

 

The thought of being acknowledged made his chest tighten with impatience.

 

“Yes. I swear on the proud blood of Ravien that flows through my body; there are no lies,” Asha said, standing up straight with a knight-like gaze.

 

“Th-thank you. Thank you,” Hume bowed his head towards Asha.

 

Asha’s eyes then widened.

 

“Are you Ravien?”

 

Hume couldn’t answer and looked at Lucion.

 

“Hume, if you want, you can tell her anything,” Lucion said.

 

There was no need to hide anything more, especially now that he had already revealed himself as a warlock. 

In fact, it seemed better for Hume.

 

The person who carried the bloodline of the long-lost Ravien stood right in front of him. 

 

It was undoubtedly a positive development for Hume.

 

“Thank you, young master.”

 

Hume smiled broadly.

 

With a face as proud as his bright smile, he confidently revealed himself.

 

“Yes. I am Ravien. Of course, I am not a perfect Ravien.”

 

Hume seemed relieved, as if he had shed all his hesitation and worries.

 

“No way.” Asha was flustered this time.

 

“Wait, just wait a moment, please.”

 

Asha returned home in a hurry, almost dropping the cane she held in her hand.

 

“Aren’t you going to scold me this time?”

 

Lucion asked, looking at Russell.

 

[Why would I scold you?]

 

“Isn’t my identity completely exposed? I even gave out information.”

 

[How was it exposed? The darkness openly revealed it. It can’t be helped. And if you’re okay with it, then it’s fine.]

 

“Yes.”

 

Lucion smiled and looked at Hume.

 

“Hume, ask anything you want to ask, anything you want to know.”

 

“Still… Is that okay?”

 

“It’s a rare opportunity. You should seize it when it comes.”

 

“Thank you so much for giving me this chance, young master.”

 

“No need to thank me. I have some questions for her too.”

 

She said that darkness chose him.

 

What does that mean?

 

Lucion turned his gaze and took turns examining the house where Asha had entered and Ratta, who was just playing in the grass.

 

“Teacher.”

 

Lucion’s gaze finally rested on Russell.

 

[Yes?]

 

“Do you know what it means that the darkness chose me?”

 

Russell’s expression turned serious, and he replied, [Darkness doesn’t choose anything.]

 

His words seemed almost like a mutter, as he continued, [That’s how I was taught, and likely all warlocks are taught the same way.]

 

“But she said that darkness chose me.”

 

[Yes, I heard her say that as well. It seems like a matter to be discussed when Asha arrives. For now, darkness isn’t saying anything.]

 

Russell noticed Asha coming towards them from the house.

 

“You’ve waited a long time.”

 

What Asha brought with her were a bowl and a cutting knife.

 

“Ravien was born from darkness, so darkness is mixed in its blood, and that blood is the same for everyone.”

 

After a brief explanation, she pricked her finger, swiftly letting a drop of blood fall into the bowl before it could reach the ground.

 

‘It looks like ordinary blood, even though it’s mixed with darkness.’

 

Lucion felt doubtful as he looked at the blood staining the white bowl red.

 

“Are you afraid of pricking your finger?”

 

Asha looked at Hume with an apologetic expression before handing him the knife.

 

“No, I’m not scared.”

 

Hume’s eyes showed no sign of wavering as he reached out to Asha.

 

Only then did Asha hand the knife to Hume.

 

Lucion tensed up, worried that Hume might accidentally cut off his finger.

 

[Be careful, Hume. Don’t cut your finger off.]

 

It was the same with Russell.

 

[Lord Lucion. Russell. Hume is much better at controlling his strength than you think, so you don’t have to worry.]

 

Bethel said with a smile at the sight of the two people.

 

They were so similar that she could feel that the teacher-student relationship was very amusing.

 

Drop.

 

Contrary to his worries, Hume cut it cleanly, leaving only a few drops of blood, and dropped the blood into a bowl.

 

[Some people cut it as if they’re cutting off a finger, but Hume is really precise.] Russell commented, his gaze shifting towards Lucion.

 

When performing a necromancy, didn’t Lucion cut his finger really deep because he was so nervous?

 

“Teacher,” Lucion called out, his gaze slightly fierce.

 

Russell’s laughter ceased, and he responded, [Well, what… is it?]

 

As the blood of Asha and Hume mixed in the bowl, darkness stirred within them. 

 

Asha couldn’t help but cover her mouth in response to what she witnessed.

 

“Oh my god…”

 

Russell was just as shocked by Asha’s expression of disbelief.

 

[What? Was it real? Was it not a metaphor, but an actual presence of darkness mixed in the blood?]

 

It certainly seemed like blood was mixed, but there was more darkness sticking out from one side.

 

‘It’s Hume’s blood.’

 

Because that darkness was Lucion’s darkness, Russell was able to recognize it right away.

 

Taking the blood, Asha drew it on Hume’s forehead. 

 

In that moment, both Asha’s and Hume’s eyes sparkled, resembling sunlight reflecting on a serene lake.

 

―Hop! It’s Ratta’s favorite sparkle.

 

Ratta hurriedly approached and looked at Asha and Hume.

 

[Does it resonate?]

 

Bethel, holding her breath, anxiously asked.

 

[It seems so. She said earlier that their blood is the same. She seems to be using some verification method that we don’t know about.]

 

Russell responded, observing the two with a mixture of awe and anticipation.

 

This was an extraordinary discovery—one that left Russell so overwhelmed that he couldn’t immediately record it.

 

“… ah.”

 

When the light went out in both their eyes, Asha put down the bowl and immediately hugged Hume.

 

“I’ve been waiting for this day. Ravien’s blood is still alive and thriving. Today,” Asha cried, her voice filled with a mixture of joy and sorrow.

 

“Why did everything I had hoped for happen all at once today? I apologize for shedding tears out of shame. Just perceive this old woman as senile,” Asha expressed, her voice trembling with emotions.

 

“I don’t think so. When you’re sad, you have to shed tears.”

 

“Weren’t you lonely?”

 

“I wasn’t lonely. I had a lot of people.”

 

Hume looked at Lucion.

 

“Thank God. I’m glad you weren’t lonely.”

 

Asha quickly wiped away her tears and held Hume’s hand tightly.

 

“Did you ever dream? It’s impossible for me, but if you have this strong blood, it might be possible.”