Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 125

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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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Chapter 28. As Expected, a Good Person

To any observer, this combination would appear to be that of a normal noble young master, his attendant, and his escort.

‘No, that’s exactly what it is.’

Kale Heniatus realized a fact he had forgotten and gazed at the blonde man with a gentle smile.
But reality diverged from his expectations.

‘Why is he acting like that?’

The man was more vigilant.
Particularly, his eyes studying Ron trembled with grave intensity. The man’s gaze flickered toward Ron’s left arm.

Ron’s left arm.
The arm created by Merry, the Necromancer.

The blonde man’s eyes darted across that left arm—the one concealed beneath long sleeves and black gloves, leaving no trace of its true nature—his expression fully exposed above his face.
That expression was one of shock, unease, and simultaneous confusion.

His gaze held the knowledge that the arm was artificial, and moreover, crafted from dark attributes.
Eyes capable of discerning dark attributes merely by sight.

‘…What’s this now?’

Kale Heniatus felt his instincts flare.

His gaze shifted between the blonde man and the blonde woman. Though clearly different in appearance, they bore a subtle resemblance.
Like siblings.

Suddenly, a single word surfaced in his mind.
Magic bomb.
And one more.
The Sun God Cult.

The Saint and Saint Maiden.

‘…Damn it, this can’t be happening.’

There are some vibes you don’t want to receive even if offered.
Kale Heniatus made a resolution.

‘Let’s part on good terms.’

But the desire to part amicably was Kale Heniatus’s alone.

“I, I’m not fooled.”

The blonde-haired man urgently embraced the Blonde Sword Master and glared at Kale Heniatus, particularly at Ron. Yet his gentle eyes—like those of a foal drenched in rain—held no threat whatsoever, only pity.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir. We’re not deceiving anyone. We’re merely travelers passing through.”

In stark contrast, Ron approached the blonde-haired man with a benevolent smile, yet in Kale Heniatus’s eyes, he appeared to be a villain of the highest order.

“D, don’t come closer.”

The blonde-haired man, as if hearing nothing, held the woman and stumbled backward.

“Ugh.”
“Ah!”

A moan escaped the woman’s lips as she lay unconscious. The blonde-haired man stopped his retreat and hastily lowered the woman to the ground.
The man’s eyes, which had been examining the woman, soon filled with fury and resentment as they turned toward Ron.

“You vile creatures! First you threw dead mana bombs, and now you’ve resorted to necromancy!”

Hmm. It seems there’s been some misunderstanding.
Kale Heniatus realized that this man, presumed to be the Saint, was laboring under a misconception.

Tap. Tap.
When Kale Heniatus lowered his head at the tapping on his arm, On looked at him with eyes asking whether this needed to be resolved.

‘Do we need to resolve this?’
‘No, not yet.’

But Kale Heniatus shook his head slightly.
Something told him to wait.

Typically in such cases, wouldn’t the one who misunderstood ramble on endlessly by himself?

And there was something I needed to find out.

‘Dead mana bombs, you say.’

Could such a thing even be turned into a bomb?
I wondered if the Secret Organization had created something like that, so I needed more information. Thus, I did nothing and simply observed.

And Ron moved appropriately.
He stepped forward with a rather benevolent smile, deliberately closing the distance.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying. It seems you’re under a misapprehension.”

Even as Ron made a gesture of innocence, the man cried out with eyes that absolutely refused to believe him. His voice was filled with the solemnity of one standing at death’s door.

“I will protect Hana now! How dare you commit such vile acts under the Empire’s name!”

…What?

“The Sun God’s judgment will not spare you!”

Now he was shouting with veins bulging from his face.

“The Sun shall know this injustice!”

What is this.
What in the world is this bastard saying right now.
My mind grew momentarily confused. Regardless, the blonde man continued shouting relentlessly, as if trying to overcome his fear.
His face was gentle, yet his voice was as loud as a steam engine belching smoke.

“Even if I’m only half-baked with nothing but healing power! I won’t stay-”

In the end, I cut off the man’s words.

“Wait a moment.”
“N-no matter if you try to silence me, I won’t stop-”
“Please, just-”

A low but forceful voice. The blonde man’s mouth snapped shut.
The red-haired man exuded a powerful aura, his expression tinged with irritation. The overwhelming pressure froze the blonde man in place.

Whoooosh—

Only the sound of rain filled the air as silence descended. Only then did I begin to organize my thoughts. My mind raced rapidly.

‘So the dead mana bomb was the Empire’s doing?’

And now these blondes were being hunted by the Empire.
My gaze shifted to the blonde woman. The blonde man, noticing my look, hastily pulled the woman into his arms, but I had already confirmed what I needed to see.

Black marks scattered across her body in several places. There was a high probability those were the effects of dead mana.

‘…This is serious.’

A dead mana bomb. I had never imagined the Empire would develop such a thing. There was no mention of it in any books.

“Young Master.”

At Ron’s voice, I roughly organized my thoughts and turned my gaze to the blonde man. He flinched at my look, biting his lip as he cried out.

“I, I will not yield!”

Yet the man could not hide his tension as he watched the red-haired man approaching him. Such a powerful presence was rare indeed.
Not merely the aura of a strong warrior, but an aura of dominion.

Squelch, squelch.
The sound of wet footsteps drew closer. The red-haired man came within arm’s reach.

‘I can’t.’

I had to protect my sister Hana. The blonde man despised himself—a burden to his sister for life, exploited by the sect, and now unjustly hunted by the Empire itself.

The red-haired man who had drawn near looked down at the blonde man. Goosebumps erupted across his back at that gaze.
Slowly, the red-haired man—I—opened my mouth.

“Were you poisoned by dead mana toxin?”
“…What!”

What nonsense are you trying to spout?
That’s what I wanted to cry out.

But an object materialized before the golden-haired man.

“This is a supreme-grade potion. With this, we should be able to halt the progression. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A supreme-grade potion.
The very potion that had been so desperately needed by a man stripped of everything.
It was genuine.

The Saint of the Sun God Cult. He could not use his healing power on his dying sibling. The power of the sun burns away darkness.
It would purify, not heal—burning away the sibling addicted to darkness along with it.

The golden-haired man, the Saint, could see the red-haired man smiling gently. He pointed to the one introduced as his servant.

“Our servant has experienced dead mana before, so I know a little about it. Isn’t that right, Ron?”

Kale Heniatus gestured toward Ron’s left arm as he asked. Ron answered without any change in his expression.

“Yes. My left arm and abdomen suffered greatly, but I managed to recover.”

Recovered?
Desperation washed over the Saint’s face. But Kale Heniatus pretended not to notice and continued pulling supreme-grade potions from his possession.
He had so many supreme-grade potions that it was almost frightening how much Raon had provided.

But Kale Heniatus withdrew only ten. Then, wearing an awkward smile, he looked at the golden-haired man.

“This is all I have. By the way, these are potions made by the Death God Sect of the Roan Kingdom. How about we treat this lady first with these and clear up the misunderstanding?”

The Saint’s pupils trembled.

For the first time in a long while, the Saint witnessed a truly virtuous smile. The red-haired man bearing that virtuous smile spoke words that stirred the Saint’s heart.

“After all, a human life must come first, mustn’t it?”

The Saint gazed quietly at the potion offered to him with its lid already open.
His sibling had always said.

‘You trust people too easily, brother. You believe them right away and tell them everything, without suspicion. Don’t do that. I know it’s your strength, but still. I’m strong enough, so don’t worry. I’ll protect you.’

I had to save my sister.
Then, a man’s voice reached the Saint’s ears.

“Ah, I am Kale Heniatus of the Roan Kingdom.”

And a small badge engraved with a golden turtle seal came into view.

“…Kale Heniatus?”
“Yes.”

Kale answered gently, yet firmly.
This way, not only this man but also the woman who would wake up later would believe I was merely a passing noble, not some fool imitating a crude Secret Organization.
I became an ignorant young nobleman and looked at the man presumed to be the Saint.

“So it was you!”

Hm?
But this man’s reaction was strange.

“That’s right. The red hair! And now I understand why you came to The Path of No Return!”

Snatch.
As the man eagerly grabbed the potion along with my hand, I quietly withdrew my hand.

“…Do you know me?”
“Ah, well, you see.”

The man smiled gently. How could his demeanor change so suddenly?

“I heard it from the people of Hoik Village. You gathered the remains in this forest to lay their grudges to rest, and you told the villagers about the forest, didn’t you?”
“That is true, but…”

Hoik Village. The village that occupied the entrance to the Forest of The Path of No Return—this time, I had entered the forest directly without properly visiting that village.

“Whenever new travelers came to that village, the villagers would tell them your story before they entered the forest. I happened to overhear them while hiding, ah, well, I heard it anyway.”

It seemed he had eavesdropped while secretly hiding in the village before entering this forest.

“I’ve heard quite the rumors about you, sir—a most wise and charismatic nobleman, yet with a warm heart.”
“…You flatter me.”

Kale Heniatus found such praise utterly unwelcome.
Back then, he’d left Hans and the Vice-Captain to handle the cleanup of the jungle fire before departing. Now, a nagging question surfaced: how exactly had those two managed it?

But Kale Heniatus soon refocused on the man before him.
The Saint seemed more at ease now, his expression noticeably relaxed as he rambled on to himself.

“Yes. And whenever Queen Ritana speaks of virtuous people, she always mentions you, sir.”
“…Who?”

What is this bastard talking about?
Why is the Saint bringing up Ritana?

“Ah, well…”

The man’s expression shifted—caught off guard, awkward, yet transparently guilty all at once.

“The Queen, sir. We merely became acquainted when I visited the jungle before. Just a passing acquaintance, really.”

It hardly looked like a mere passing acquaintance.
The Saint pressed on hurriedly.

“My sister and I are just ordinary people, and we received her assistance.”

Sigh.
How could someone tell such a transparent lie?
Kale Heniatus swallowed his sigh and nodded.

“I see. Shall we begin your treatment then?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Ron, assist him.”
“Yes, young master.”

The Saint hesitated as Ron approached, but when Ron carefully produced cloth to aid in the treatment, he bowed his head slightly in acceptance.

Kale Heniatus rose from his seat at the sight.

“I’ll step outside for a moment, Choi Han.”
“…Yes.”

I pointed toward the cave entrance.

“Guard these two from here on out.”
“…Yes.”

Choi Han’s hesitant response and the Saint’s eyes gleaming with growing trust—I found myself wondering how someone so trusting would survive in the future. I gave Vicross a light tap on the shoulder.

“Take a look around the perimeter. We have patients here, and it would be troublesome if any beasts or monsters showed up.”
“Yes, understood.”

Vicross answered with reliable assurance and followed behind me. As I passed Choi Han, who stood at the entrance away from the inner cave, I whispered softly.

“Choi Han, keep watch carefully.”

Only then did Choi Han’s expression shift, and he nodded with solemn determination.

“Y-e-s. I. W-i-l-l. G-u-a-r-d. W-e-l-l.”

His attempt at being helpful was pure overacting.
Both Vicross and I ignored his words and exited the cave. Unlike before, a fine mist was falling, and with my raincoat on, being outside posed no real inconvenience.

“Vicross.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have a Mage to use a communication spell, so I’ll give you a carrier pigeon. Go and return quickly.”

Vicross asked with his characteristic stoic expression.

“To Tunka’s side?”

As expected. I felt a slight admiration. Vicross grasped my intentions without needing detailed explanations.
The Empire had created the dead mana bomb. Fighting without knowing this would put Tunka’s forces at a severe disadvantage.
I couldn’t leave this information unshared.

“Yes. Inform Tunka. That way, the battle will be more evenly matched, won’t it?”

But Vicross offered a different response.

“You seem quite worried, don’t you?”
“Who? Tunka?”
“Yes.”

Kale Heniatus fell silent for a moment, then spoke with casual indifference, as if tossing the words aside.

“Just go and come back without saying anything.”

Vicross nodded in understanding, a faint smile crossing his typically stern face. It was the expression of someone who knew better than to argue.

Kale offered no further explanation even at that expression.

I knew Tunka’s way of fighting.
That man abandoned wounded soldiers and pressed forward.
He was the type who saw the weak as naturally disposable—whether injured or dying.

Herrol Codian was similar.
Both Herrol Codian and Tunka were men driven by their own desires, doing as they pleased. Herrol Codian’s desire was to erase all magic from the Continent. Tunka’s was simply to grow stronger through battle.

‘What sin could those beneath such men possibly bear?’

If anything troubled me, it was not Tunka himself, but the soldiers under his command. They kept crossing my mind.
Who would suffer the most injuries from the explosives?

And once corrupted by dead mana, it was difficult to recover. First, I would need to continuously use the highest-grade potions to prevent the dead mana from spreading further.
Would Herrol Codian use the highest-grade potions on his soldiers?
Tunka?
If I had truly acted weak, that man would have dismissed me outright—let alone treated me as a friend.

Kale commanded Vicross, who awaited his orders.

“There’s no need to go directly to Tunka. Since Rosalind is nearby, deliver the letter to her and she’ll pass it along. That will be faster. Also inform Alberu Crown Prince.”
“Yes, understood.”

With Rosalind and Vicross together, they would handle it well.
Vicross asked in a low voice, a hint of curiosity showing through.

“But who are those two people?”
“They are presumed to be the Sun God Cult twins.”
“…Those fugitives?”

Kale Heniatus glanced at Vicross’s expression before opening his mouth.

“Yes. And the woman inside is that Sword Master from the Secret Organization—the one we encountered during the Whale Tribe conflict.”
“…That woman, sir?”
“Yes. So go quickly and come back. I’ll handle your excuses.”

Vicross’s lips twisted strangely. The organization that had driven his father to the brink of death.
Kale Heniatus tossed the words at Vicross as his mood grew heavier.

“Trust me and Ron, and go quickly.”
“That’s reassuring.”

Vicross nodded again with a composed expression. With his father and Young Master Kale Heniatus, things would work out. And with Choi Han’s superior combat abilities, there would be no dangerous situations.

Meow.

On cried out, asserting her presence as well. Vicross chuckled at the sight and extended his hand to Kale Heniatus.

“Please give me the letter.”

* * *

After handing the letter to Vicross and sending him off, Kale Heniatus leisurely returned to the cave entrance.

“Have you returned?”
“Yes.”

Receiving Choi Han’s greeting, Kale Heniatus entered the cave. Ron still wore his benevolent smile. Both Choi Han and Ron showed no signs of suspicion even without Vicross present.

Kale Heniatus approached the Saint, who gazed at the Blonde Sword Master with a sorrowful expression.

“How is the lady feeling now? Has she improved somewhat?”
“Ah, yes. The dead mana inside her body has improved compared to before—”

The Saint continued speaking with a bright face.

“Mm.”

The Blonde Sword Master. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her eyelashes trembled delicately, and it seemed she would open her eyes at any moment.

“H-Hana!”

The Saint called out desperately what appeared to be the Sword Master’s name, and the woman furrowed her brow before finally opening the eyes she had been barely keeping shut.

“…Brother.”
“Hana!”

The Saint embraced his sister with fervent emotion.
While the twins shared such a touching reunion, Kale wrote characters into Ron’s palm.

‘Dark affiliate.’

Ron’s pupils grew cold and sharp, and Kale, feigning innocence, offered a smile to the Saint who was gazing at him.

“How fortunate.”
“Young Master, thanks to you my sister has awakened! Thank you so much!”

Kale received the Saint’s grateful gaze and the Sword Master’s confused stare—still unable to comprehend the situation—while maintaining his refined smile befitting a nobleman.

There was still so much I needed to extract from these two.

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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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