Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 10

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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‘Young master, I heard everything from Hans this morning. I will do my utmost, however modest my efforts may be, to prepare you to shine in the Capital.’

Kale Heniatus’s shoulders trembled as I stepped outside the Count’s Mansion. I recalled the conversation I’d had with Ron immediately upon waking this morning. In truth, there was no need to recall it—it played automatically in my mind.

‘This is your first time in the Capital, isn’t it? I’m quite skilled at hunting rabbits. I’ll hunt one for you during our camping.’

Ron’s measured and benevolent voice echoed in my ears. It was as if I could hear his voice drifting through the distant mist like an auditory hallucination.
The way Ron had explained how to hunt rabbits from early morning struck me as terrifying.

‘When handling timid, small animals like rabbits, one must be careful. Since you never know when or how they’ll flee, you must observe closely and strike at the precise moment to kill them. Ah, and once they’re caught, you must remove their entrails. I’m quite skilled at that as well.’

I had to turn away from Ron as he made a gesture of slicing across his belly with his hand. Ron was excited. For some inexplicable reason, I felt the absurd sensation that Ron was toying with me, yet I was more relieved that he had readily agreed to follow me to the Capital.

‘Vicross should come along as my personal chef.’

Ron, Vicross. To bring the father and son along, I had mentioned it to Hans beforehand as I was leaving the mansion. Of course, Ron was beside me.

‘Hans, I’d like to take Vicross as my personal chef on this journey.’
‘May I ask your reason? He’s quite busy leading the Second Kitchen.’
‘I don’t know. Anyway, I can’t eat anything unless Vicross makes it. I’m taking him with me regardless, so make note of that.’

Hans was taken aback, and Ron was smiling, delighted that his son would be going with me.

‘Young master, my son will be so pleased. We had business in the Capital anyway. I will relay your words to him exactly as you’ve said them.’

At Ron’s words, I felt reassured. I had worried he might refuse, but it seemed Vicross would be happy to leave the domain and travel to the Capital.

As I strolled through Western City shrouded in morning mist, I thought about who I would bring along to the Capital. The flow of events differed slightly from the story, but I couldn’t abandon my own advantage, could I?

“Young master, you’ve come early today.”

The Baker, who now greeted me quite comfortably after seeing me a few times, was asked by me in a blunt manner.

“So, the bread?”

The Baker smiled and held out the bread.

“Of course there is. But is today truly the last time?”
“Why? Greedy for more money?”
“Yes, I am greedy for it.”

The corners of my mouth lifted in a smirk. I appreciated such honest answers. I patted the Baker’s shoulder—a man who had come to understand me—and headed toward the Slums.

“If I want to eat again next time, I’ll come back.”

The Baker watched my figure fade into the mist, offering a fervent prayer. He hoped I would return and spend money lavishly.

Unaware of his distant prayer, I furrowed my brow at the sight of the siblings waiting for me as always.
Did these children have no home? I had arrived much earlier than usual, yet they were huddled together at the very top of the Slums as if they had been waiting there all night long. The Boy leaned heavily against his sister’s embrace.

The siblings gazed up at me with their mouths firmly shut. Their hair and clothes appeared damp from the misty dawn.

Of course, I pretended not to notice.

“Here, take it.”

The boy took his share of food and his sister’s share as well. After seeing what the boy received, Kale turned around and headed toward the wall where the Man-Eating Tree was.

‘Thank goodness for the mist.’

The fog made it difficult to see clearly. Especially here at the top of the Slums hill, the second-highest point in Western City after the Lord’s Castle, the mist was particularly thick. No one would be able to see what I was doing or what I was obtaining.

-More, more. Please.

As always, I heard the chilling voice of a sorrowful spirit, and I poured the bag of bread into the base of the tree. The darkness within the hollow gradually shifted from gray to white. It seemed my hard work was not in vain, and a faint smile crossed my lips. Then it happened.

-More, more, more!

What?
I stumbled backward at the piercing shriek that had risen sharply in pitch. This wasn’t in the books at all.

-More, more! Bring more and I’ll give you a gift. A gift.

Gift. At that word, my eyes gleamed. The end was drawing near. Though I had no idea it was going mad.

“Wait.”

As if welcoming his words, gnarled black branches trembled. It resembled a scene from a horror film. I shuddered and moved hurriedly through the mist. Though morning had passed and it was now well into the day, the sun had not risen, and beneath the oppressive clouds, the fog grew ever thicker.
Rain seemed imminent.

I could not see where the siblings had gone, but I reasoned they must have sought shelter from the coming rain. I placed the third pouch of bread before the Man-Eating Tree.

This was the final offering.

The light within the tree’s hollow, enveloped by the same mist that surrounded me, had taken on a pale, whitish hue. Once I placed this last bread, it would become transparent. With great anticipation, I gave the final loaf to the tree.

And at last.

Uuuuuung—

A resonance of incomparable intensity poured forth from the tree toward me—a vibration directed solely at me. Yet what captured my attention more than that singular hum was the tree’s hollow, growing progressively transparent. Though the interior should have been shadowed, such ordinary natural laws held no sway here.

This was the power of ancient times.

It was then that the voice—the one that had so persistently demanded more bread—spoke again.

—It was so, so delicious!

The voice was matter-of-fact.

—That soft texture, and especially that third pouch of bread was excellent. So food truly does improve with the ages! In my time, bread didn’t even have a name! In any case, that third bread, the one there, was truly delightful. The wheat seemed to have grown in soil far superior to other places. Not all wheat is the same, you know.

…The voice was conducting a food critique.
A torrent of words battered me. This wasn’t in the books at all?

A soul laden with sorrow was easing its anguish through the ultimate expression of gastronomy—critique. My brow furrowed deeper. I recalled this “Unbreakable Shield,” the sole ancient power from “The Birth of Heroes” that no one possessed and only the text described.

‘No wonder no one ever obtained it.’

Why describe something no one could acquire? The thought crossed my mind, but this matter-of-fact voice was simply too talkative for such philosophical musings.

—…So I’m full and it was truly delicious!

Chatter, chatter. Perhaps gluttony wasn’t the sorrow—perhaps it was the inability to speak.
After enduring several minutes of taste commentary, I nodded, attempting to cut off the voice.

-In ancient times, there were no flavors like these. Those who served the gods—the creatures from the Dark Forest—only ever gave me tasteless slop.

But the moment the ancient one’s story spilled from his lips, Kale Heniatus waited a moment longer.

-Of course, I was cast out from there. They said I had too much of an appetite. Ridiculous nonsense. Of course, I came out with my comrades at the time. We intended to set the world right.

The ancient one’s power was something he needed, so the ancient one’s story was worth hearing. But when the ancient tale ended and the conversation turned once more to the relationship between bread and obesity, Kale Heniatus cut him off.

-I think I’d rather gain weight than give up this flavor. It’s such a tragedy that I died eating dirt!

“Yes, that was quite an excellent and professional taste critique. A bit loud—”

Cutting off Kale Heniatus’s words, a delighted cry rang out.

-You understand my critique! You truly are a fine fellow! Thank you!

…The conversation seemed both to connect and not to connect.
Kale Heniatus could not make sense of this situation at all. In any case, after the words of gratitude, no more voice came. Kale Heniatus gazed at the tree before him.

“Remarkable.”

The Man-Eating Tree, the black tree, was turning white. And gradually, verdant green leaves began to sprout forth. The sight was all the more mystical through the mist.

Uuuuuung—

It was a resonance filled with weight rather than dampness. Kale Heniatus knelt on one knee and sat before the base of the tree. Pure white light poured forth from the hollow.

Kale Heniatus reached his hand into that light and closed his eyes.

‘This is it.’

A warm and reassuring power enveloped his hand. A smile bloomed at the corner of Kale Heniatus’s mouth, and in that moment, one final voice reached him. It was clear yet warm.

-I will protect you.

Whoooosh.
For the briefest moment, brilliant light engulfed Kale Heniatus. Silvery radiance seeped into his body. The light that seeped in gathered at his heart.

“Exhale.”

He exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. There was no pain. Instead, a warm and crystalline power filled him with satisfaction.
Kale Heniatus immediately lifted the upper garment he was wearing.

‘Perfect.’

Over his heart. Upon that skin, a small silver shield had been inscribed. It was unlike a tattoo. A beautiful and ornate shield, as if painted with pigment, had left its mark upon his chest.

The shield would prioritize protecting its master’s life above all else. The place of that oath was the heart itself. This shield would remain with Kale Heniatus until his heart ceased its beating.

“Impressive.”

He felt the power enveloping his heart. It was not foreign. Rather, it seemed as though his heart beat powerfully, cradled securely within that embrace.

Thus did the ancient power leave its mark according to each wielder’s nature.

Kale Heniatus wielded the ancient power just as he had read in the book ‘The Birth of Heroes’.

A shimmer rippled through the air.
The ‘Unbreakable Shield’ materialized before Kale Heniatus’s eyes.

A transparent silver shield large enough to cover Kale Heniatus’s upper body. Silver wings extended from both sides of the shield, and through these wings, the shield could move a certain distance. Furthermore, the shield’s size was adjustable.

He gauged the magnitude of the power he had grown accustomed to as though it were part of himself. The ancient power was useful precisely because one became familiar with it immediately. This was why the heroes of old had employed it even as a secondary ability.
A smile formed at the corners of Kale Heniatus’s mouth.

‘At least twice.’

He considered it based on Choi Han, the strongest person currently in his vicinity. When Choi Han unleashed his swordsmanship, it seemed he could block an early-stage sword technique roughly twice.

‘For a secondary ability, the defensive power is higher than I anticipated.’

The ‘Unbreakable Shield’ breaks, despite its name. It simply does not disappear.
When struck by an attack of sufficient force, the shield shatters while leaving behind a minimal barrier at the heart to protect it. Then, as time passes, the power recovers, and the principle behind that recovery is the vitality of the heart itself.

A beating heart. The heart was the shield’s power. The shield and heart gave strength to one another. Then, what if that heart were to grow stronger?

‘It would become even more resilient.’

There were countless ways to strengthen ancient power. Kale would enhance this shield once more on the way to the Capital.
So I would create a shield strong enough to withstand ten minutes—no, five minutes—even if someone like Choi Han decided to kill me with all their might.

Like the Man-Eating Tree, ancient power was difficult to obtain unless one ‘happened to discover it.’ Perhaps up to book five, Kale Heniatus—myself—was the one who knew about such coincidences the most.

The corners of Kale’s mouth lifted slightly. I reached out and touched the shield. The texture felt good. But there was one thing that bothered me a little.

“…It looks far too holy.”

If I revealed all its power so completely, it looked exactly like those sacred shields that divine knights in mythology wielded alongside their swords.
Of course, the shield’s previous owner, the priestess, was now thoroughly sick of anything divine, and I simply despised gods.

‘Well, I probably won’t have much use for it anyway.’

All fighting would be delegated to others. When terrorism struck the Capital, if any dangerous situation arose, I would need to make it as faint and small as possible before using it.

I redirected the shield’s power back toward my heart, then tapped the now-whitened tree a few times for no particular reason and left the area. A fine drizzle fell through the mist, dampening my shoulders.

I liked the mist but disliked the rain, so I quickened my pace toward the Count’s Mansion. I needed a carriage.
That was when it happened.

Meoooow.
Meow.

A chill ran down the back of Kale’s neck. At the path right before the Count’s Mansion, two pairs of golden, round eyes appeared. My face contorted.

Two rain-soaked kittens with an utterly pitiful appearance. The two kittens whimpered as they approached me, rubbing their faces against my legs and mewling.

“Sigh.”

I sighed and walked on. The two kittens followed. The small creatures kept up well with their short little legs.

“Young Master, what is this?”

Hans, the sub-butler, greeted me upon my arrival at the Count’s Mansion. Hans’s eyes widened in a blank expression—clearly one of shock. I clicked my tongue and held out what I was carrying in both hands.

“Don’t waste time with questions. Just take them.”

Hans’s eyes wavered.

“My, what adorable, precious, and utterly charming little kittens.”

The deputy butler seemed indeed suited for the role. The two kittens gazed up at Hans, who stood bewildered, and nestled obediently into his arms.
The two cats dangling from Kale Heniatus’s hand remained fixed upon him even as they settled into Hans’s embrace.

“Young Master, might I be permitted to care for these lovely feline gentlemen?”
“Do as you wish.”

Hans’s lips curled upward in delight. Observing this, Kale Heniatus passed by the two kittens and added a remark.

“Oh, and by the way—they’ll quiet down if you feed them. Also, they’re siblings.”

The two kittens trembled slightly, their golden eyes widening as they turned toward Kale Heniatus.

“Pardon?”

As Hans stood dumbfounded, Kale Heniatus approached and bent down to stroke the heads of both kittens.

I had suspected, though I hardly dared believe it. Yet at this point, the truth could no longer be denied.

The moment I caught the faint scent of the medicinal herbs I had provided, emanating from the silver kitten now near me.
The moment I lifted both kittens and detected, piercing through the rain, the subtle aroma of the beef steak and bacon cream pasta I had given them this morning.
I knew with absolute certainty. The events of these past days crystallized in my mind.

“Did you truly think I wouldn’t notice?”

The golden eyes of the two kittens wavered aimlessly. Kale Heniatus gazed at the siblings he had fed these past days and smirked.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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