Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 189

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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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At the pinnacle of the Golden Tree, the highest point in Begus City, silence hung like a theater stage awaiting its curtain call—yet beneath that quiet lay whispers of anticipation.

Click.
Flavin Sinten, master of the Sinten Merchant Guild, opened the door marked ‘3’.

The VIP auction house contained seating from rows one through five. Yet even within that space, a hierarchy of VIPs existed.

Terrace.
A terrace overlooking the entire auction stage and all the seating below.
Eight terraces in total existed within the auction house, and they were called ‘Terraces’.

One could survey the entire auction floor at a glance, and moreover, soundproofing magic was installed within each terrace, making it far easier to conceal one’s identity than anywhere else.

Flavin Sinten entered Terrace 3, his face concealed behind an ornate mask adorned with brilliant jewels.
Swish. He drew back the curtain draped across the terrace.

Flavin had needed to secure Terrace 3 on short notice, but as the master of the Sinten Merchant Guild—ranked among the Empire’s top five—he was originally entitled to one of Terraces one through eight.

Within that circle, numbers held no significance.

“Master, shall I bring tea?”

Flavin turned at the sound of my voice.

Auction participants were permitted to bring one servant each. Knights or mages could not be brought.
That was why Flavin had brought the Sub-Tower Master of the Assassination Guild as his servant.

“Never mind.”

Flavin did not sit upon the luxurious sofa, instead surveying the terraces around him.

‘Could it be Terrace 4?’

Where was that madman who possessed the Fire Crystal?
Flavin’s attention was fixed on that singular matter alone.

The terraces were positioned in pairs. Of course, thick walls naturally separated each pair, making it difficult to see across them.

Flavin wet his lips with his tongue.

‘How did they even make contact?’

He couldn’t fathom how the other side would approach him. He turned to the Assassin with a question.

“Number 4 is from the Flynn Merchant Guild?”
“Yes. He’s called Bilos, the second-in-line heir to the Flynn Merchant Guild.”

From 1 to 8. The Sinten Merchant Guild Master had mobilized all his intelligence networks to identify the individuals who would occupy each Terrace.

‘…Could the Flynn Merchant Guild heir be that madman?’

Based on the information Flavin had obtained, the illegitimate son Bilos was still a mere fledgling. Above all, he had never ventured near the Papal See in the Empire and had no connection to it.

‘It’s possible I didn’t know something.’

Though he might be underestimating the Flynn Merchant Guild, his instincts honed over many years spoke otherwise.
It wasn’t the Flynn Merchant Guild.
They weren’t capable of this level of operation.
It was an intuition bordering on certainty.

Something far more sinister and difficult to grasp. That seemed to be the true identity of that madman.

“It will begin shortly. Wouldn’t it be better to take your seat?”
“Very well.”

At the Assassin’s words, Flavin realized he had been acting overly anxious. Beneath the ornate mask lay a face etched with tension.

‘The Flynn Merchant Guild heir has already entered Terrace 4, they said.’

The Rang Terrace. Flavin entered last among all the Terraces. With his entrance, the Golden Tree Auction House sealed the entrance door leading to the Terraces. Elite swordsmen were said to guard that entrance.

‘Regardless, he’d still be weaker than that madman.’

Flavin both despised and desired to see the man who was blackmailing him.

‘Am I being dragged around like this?’

Since last night, the Merchant Guild Master had changed his objective. Previously, it had been to expose the other party’s identity and seize the necklace, but now he had shifted his purpose to a ‘transaction’.

A fair transaction.
If both sides stood to gain, this meeting wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant. The Merchant Guild Master reassured himself that this was precisely when he should employ the expertise he had accumulated over the years.

Of course, he had failed to realize that the concept of a ‘fair transaction’ did not exist in the other party’s mind.

Boom—

The sound of a drum echoed through the space.

“We begin.”
“Very well.”

At the Assassin’s words, Flavin Sinten straightened his posture and gazed down at the auction stage with composure.
Following the drum’s rhythm, the auctioneer appeared to conduct the proceedings. The Auctioneer, adorned in an ornate mask, spoke into an amplification magical device.

“Welcome. We are truly grateful for your attendance at our New Year VIP Auction.”

Despite the courteous words, the Auctioneer’s demeanor was anything but deferential.
He spoke with confidence, offering brief descriptions of the items to be presented while building anticipation.

“Our VIP Auction is renowned for presenting the finest item each day over the course of three days.”

The Auctioneer announced the theme of this VIP Auction.

“This auction’s theme is ‘Beastkin.’ Of course, we do not auction living beings. We condemn such barbaric practices as slavery. Haha!”

The Assassin glanced subtly at Flavin.
Flavin Sinten was the very person who had risen to this position through the slave trade the Auctioneer had just called barbaric. Yet the Assassin pretended not to hear the Auctioneer’s words, observing the Merchant Guild Master’s unruffled composure.

“Then allow me to present the first item!”

The first item was brought onto the stage, and the crowd erupted in applause to commemorate the auction’s opening.

Clap, clap, clap—

Flavin did not applaud, merely observing from above.

Clap, clap, clap—
Tap.

A different sound cut through the applause.
Flavin Sinten’s body went rigid.

The Assassin drew a short blade from his coat and immediately positioned himself behind Flavin.

That faint sound from just moments ago.
It had come from the Terrace railing.

It was as though someone had stepped on the Terrace railing and vaulted over into the interior.

“The opening bid is 100 million Counts!”

It was the moment the Auctioneer’s booming voice rang out.

Whoosh—
The curtain fell shut.

Flavin couldn’t tear his gaze from the curtain closing of its own accord, no person visible.

Click.
Though the intruder remained unseen, the lock on the inner Terrace door engaged immediately after. Flavin’s grip tightened around the shield magic device in his coat.

“There’s no need to deploy a shield.”

A voice emerged from the empty space.

Young.
It was the voice of a young man.

Flavin’s fingertips trembled faintly as he gripped the magic device. Regardless, the man’s voice continued.

“A Servant who’s also an Assassin? Isn’t that a bit too brutal? Put the dagger away.”

Sigh.
Flavin could hear the Assassin’s tense breath behind him. A single character surfaced simultaneously in the minds of both the Merchant Guild master and the Assassin.

A strong man.
The invisible man was strong.

Thud.
The table in front of the sofa where Flavin sat moved. Flavin’s pupils dilated as he stared at it.

“Why are you so startled?”

A man materialized from empty space. A white-haired man sitting casually on the table with his arms crossed.
His cool blue eyes, as pale as his white hair, gazed at Flavin from behind a white mask.

‘…Damn it. At least a high-ranking Mage.’

The Merchant Guild Master’s throat went dry the moment he realized it was invisibility magic. But the Assassin hadn’t stopped there.

‘A Mage and a warrior.’

He’d noticed the man’s movement as he reached for his dagger. That alone meant this person had considerable skill in combat.
A high-ranking Mage and a martial artist. And when the Assassin recalled the concealment and crimson mist, his head began to ache.

But the intruder before him, Kale, had merely spoken as Raon instructed.

-Human, am I not magnificent?

The shield magic device, invisibility, the dagger—Raon had explained everything himself. What a useful dragon he was.
Kale set aside his satisfaction with how Raon was increasingly acting on his own initiative and offered Flavin a smile.

Since the white mask only covered his eyes, nose, and cheekbones, the corners of his smiling mouth were fully visible.

“H-how did you—”

Kale shook his head upon seeing me, realizing that Flavin’s first words were utterly mundane nonsense.
That wasn’t what mattered.

Kale withdrew a necklace from his pocket.

Clink.

A necklace slipped from my hand and dangled across Kale Heniatus’s index finger.
Flavin Sinten’s eyes had been fixed on the crystal of fire, unable to look away. Then a white-haired man’s voice reached his ears.

“300.”

Flavin Sinten snapped to attention at those words, grasping the armrest as his face twisted in fury.

“Who are you? How dare you do this to me!”

Sigh.
A breath escaped from Kale Heniatus’s lips.

“How tedious.”
“What?”

I had no intention whatsoever of entertaining such a predictable response. So I said what I had to say.

“30 billion.”

Flavin Sinten’s movements halted mid-rage.

300. 30 billion.
Only then did he understand what Kale Heniatus meant. Immediately, bewilderment erupted from him.

“What, such insanity!”
“Then shall I take it to the Crown Prince?”

The voice was arrogant and insolent, piercing the heavens with its irritation. Yet it carried an aura difficult to approach casually.
Even as Flavin Sinten prepared to rage, the gaze from above the table suffocated him.

Kale Heniatus wielded a dominating aura toward Flavin Sinten and the Assassin, then opened his mouth.

“Flavin Sinten.”

Flavin Sinten could only stare at the man spinning the crystal of fire like a toy. He had no idea what would come next.

“Which has a longer history—the Empire or the Sun God Church?”

It was an abrupt question.
But it was one anyone could answer.

Of course, the Sun God Church. It had existed longer.
Gods existed before empires did. It was an obvious matter.

Flavin’s expression shifted. The man in the white mask continued speaking calmly to him.

“There is always a reason for survival.”

The Sun God Church, which had endured longer than the Empire.
Before the Empire’s foundations were even laid, the Sun God Church had taken root across the Western Continent.

Flavin recalled the countless religions and kingdoms that had vanished.

Until recently, he had placed them in the same category as the Sun God Church. That was why he had sided with the Empire, intending to obtain the Flame Decision and sever his ties with the Church.

But now, looking at this person before him, a strange thought crossed his mind.

Precisely.
Wasn’t it as if he were saying the Sun God Church had not yet ended?

As if it would survive even longer than the Empire?

Across Flavin’s face, something other than simple anger and anxiety began to settle. Doubt, and the gleam in a merchant’s eyes as he calculated opportunity.

“Flavin Sinten, you’re quite skilled at politics, aren’t you?”

That was true.
Flavin silently acknowledged the man’s question.
Politics was what he did best.

“Then you should understand well. What these calamities befalling the Empire signify.”

Another emotion flickered across Flavin’s face.
Kale Heniatus suppressed a quiet laugh at the sight.

Surely Flavin’s mind was now recalling the broken pillar of the Sun Palace and the failed assassination attempt on the Sub-Tower Master.
As expected, Flavin was indeed recalling those events.

The Empire concealed the details of both incidents, yet whispers of the truth—that servants, maids, and a Knight from the Imperial Palace had orchestrated everything—spread through the shadows.

‘Could it be?’

Could the perpetrator behind these events be connected to the Sun God Cult?
Had the Sun God Cult been meticulous enough to plant people within the Imperial Palace for so long?

The moment that thought crossed my mind.
Another realization struck me.

‘Why did I touch the Sub-Tower Master of Alchemy? Could they know about the slave trade? About what I’ve done?’

Flavin’s pupils trembled slightly.

-That merchant’s eyes just wavered.

At Raon’s signal, Kale drew the most meaningful smile he could muster.

“Sinten Merchant Guild Master, think carefully.”

Flavin thought exactly as instructed.

Who was this person?

The man once called a madman had somehow become this person.
Flavin himself had not yet grasped the difference. Then came a voice tinged with amusement.

“Who I am.”

The man in the white mask told him to think carefully about who he was.
Yet Flavin could not grasp it. White hair. The Paern Kingdom flashed through his mind, but they had nothing to do with the Sun God Cult.
But with the next words, Flavin understood one thing.

“Why I sought you out specifically.”

Why had this person sought him out?
He did not seem like someone who would merely use a necklace as leverage for blackmail. This was a person who carried the aura of one planning something far greater.

“Whether the sum I mentioned is merely the price of this necklace. Think carefully.”

Three billion.
In that instant, clarity struck me like lightning.
Flavin grasped what three billion meant.

Money to reinforce the bond with the Sun God Church. That was its true value.

The Empire, or the Sun God Church?
Or perhaps both?

‘No. The future of the Merchant Guild hangs in the balance too.’

If Iza and those who stood with him spread word of the slave trafficking to other kingdoms?
If they spread it here in the Caro Kingdom itself?
Even the Empire hadn’t captured them yet. Could I cover this up alone?

Opportunity and crisis.
Everything crashed down upon me all at once, like a tidal wave.
That was when it happened.

“Why hesitate? Do it your way.”

His tone dripped with contempt.
Kale Heniatus imparted one more truth to Flavin.

“Survival is what makes you strong.”

The fog that had clouded my mind dissipated.

Thud!

I watched the magical pouch fall onto the table.
At the same moment, the man grew increasingly transparent.

Whoosh.

The curtain drew closed, and no other sound reached my ears.
I sat in the chair for a long while, lost in thought. And at the end of that contemplation, I grasped the magical pouch in my hand.

“The fifth item!”

Click.
Ignoring the Auctioneer’s words, Flavin Sinten departed the Terrace.
At that moment, Bilos, who stood on Terrace 4, spoke despite seeing no one but Ron, who had come as a Servant.

Tap. Tap.
At the touch upon my shoulder, my lips parted of their own accord.

“There is a Priest on Terrace 1.”

Kale Heniatus smiled.
On the final day of the auction, I intended to conduct an auction between only two parties.

The ecstasy of night.
I do not set its price.

‘I must accept whatever is offered.’

The desperate one would handle it on their own.

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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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