Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 197

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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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Beep beep—beep beep—

The video communication devices emitted an endless stream of red light.

Basen Heniatus, the second son of the Heniatus Count Family, gazed out through the large window of the information and communications room.
The information and communications room, situated in the highest spire tower of the lord’s castle.

The people in that space, which should have been the busiest, were currently in a daze.
Basen in particular held a video communication device with his mouth agape. A voice flowed from the device in his hand.

—Haha, this is ridiculous.

Albert Crossman. It was his voice.
The Crown Prince was observing all of Raincy in the Heniatus Territory through the video communication device.

He could see Kale’s shield, and dozens upon dozens of wyverns far more numerous than expected.
He saw the bones of hundreds of monsters, and the bones of a dragon.

‘This madman.’

Even by his standards, Kale was a madman.
Yet as Alberu watched this madman, a tingling sensation ran through his fingertips.

It works.
This actually works.

‘The entire kingdom becomes a hero.’

The madman had never made a promise to Alberu that he couldn’t keep. So he had believed him, and now the sight before his eyes exceeded even that.

‘Your Highness, from now on the Heniatus Count Family will ignore all communications coming from the Temple.’

It was what Kale had said to Alberu when taking in the necromancer. And Alberu had answered.

‘I will bear the responsibility.’

Alberu murmured as he watched the colossal skeleton advancing toward the wyverns.

I have no choice but to take responsibility.

He lifted the corners of his mouth.
Yet there was one who could not smile.

Clophe Seka, the guardian knight who had dreamed of becoming the legend that ruled the heavens—his expression had hardened.

‘…Skeletons?’

He had never witnessed such a sight in his entire life.

“Commander!”

A knight riding a wyvern approached Clophe swiftly. The helmeted knight stared at him intently, but Clophe’s eyes fell first upon the wyvern the knight rode, not the rider himself.

Kiiieee—
The wyvern let out a strange cry, thrashing its neck about. It appeared utterly terrified.

Terror.
At that word, Clophe’s gaze pierced beyond the approaching horde of skeletons. A colossal black dragon. The wyvern trembled in fear before the Bone Dragon, which no longer moved.
Clophe lowered his head.

Grrrrr.
The mutant wyvern he rode bared its fangs at the sight of the dragon reduced to bone. It was as though it gazed upon prey.
Clophe gripped the reins around the wyvern’s neck tightly.

“Commander!”

When the knight called to him again, Clophe’s lips parted.

“A Necromancer.”

Only the Necromancers, those who had vanished from this world, could commit such acts.

“…A Necromancer, you say? Such a cursed being…!”

His subordinate was bewildered, but Clophe immediately turned to look behind him. The subordinate watched him intently, then quietly stepped back.
Clophe saw the red hair of one who was smiling. From that sight, he felt it.

‘That bastard is no hero.’

A true hero would never have summoned a necromancer wielding dead mana.

Shink.
Clophe drew his blade from its sheath, aura flowing forth in brilliant waves.

Sword Master Clophe.
He cried out, channeling the power of his aura.

“Come to your senses!”

Whoooosh—
The aura resonated across the sky.
Flap, flap. His voice pierced through the sound of skeletal wings beating. The knights gripped the reins binding the Wyverns tightly, pulling with all their strength.
Clophe raised a whistle to his lips.

Shrieeee—

The Wyverns’ expressions shifted. Fear vanished from their eyes.
Clophe gazed downward, muttering softly to himself.

“…The Bear Tribe will find the necromancer.”

He raised his voice, his aura-laden words carrying all the way to Heniatus Territory Castle.

“Those are nothing but corpses stripped to bone, puppets dancing on strings.”

Indeed, the skeletal creatures flew weakly through the air. There was a bone dragon among them, yet it was hollow, a mere doll devoid of will. The necromancer had prepared this as a trump card, but the Wyvern Knights were far beyond their imagination.

‘Then this is it!’

Power surged through Clophe’s voice.
An opportunity.
My chance to become a truly sacred hero!
A legendary hero whom even the gods would envy.

A necromancer wielding dead mana—what perfect prey.

“Those creatures have no reason! The Heniatus Territory dared to draw upon the power of filthy, wicked necromancers!”

A sharp intake of breath.
The soldiers on the City Wall, especially the Knights, gasped. Being educated men, they understood the terror and revulsion that came with the very name of necromancer.
The eyes of the Heniatus people turned toward Kale.

But soon they had to look away.

Uuuuung—
The Guardian Knight’s white aura surged endlessly toward the sky. The Heniatus people’s expressions darkened as they were reminded anew of what a Sword Master truly was.
Clophe moved the reins.

“Our Indomitable Alliance shall demonstrate justice!”

Kraaaah! The white wyvern charged toward the approaching swarm of skulls. Clophe’s blade swung, and white aura tore through the sky.

Shhwaaack.
The bones that couldn’t evade the attack were severed and vanished without a trace. It felt almost anticlimactic—the bones disappeared from Clophe’s blade so effortlessly.
Even with hundreds of them, dozens of skeletal monsters were obliterated with a single strike.

The Knights moved their reins. The wyverns began to shriek once more. They were truly the masters of the sky.

For just a brief moment, Clophe’s gaze turned toward the red-haired one.
Kale’s expressionless face came into view. The corners of Clophe’s mouth began to rise.

That was the moment.

Thud. Thud. Thud.
The Bear Tribe began to stomp their feet. Among them, a Bear Tribe member with reddish-brown fur cried out.

“Half of you search for the necromancer! Find him and tear him limb from limb!”

Thud. Thud. The massive Bear Tribe member stomped his feet and laughed ferociously.

“The other half, destroy the City Wall!”

The Bear Tribe member shouted thus. Clophe’s mouth finally curved upward.
Clophe smiling, the Heniatus people darkening. Their expressions were starkly divided.

At that moment, a strange sound reached the ears of those standing atop the city wall.

“…What?”

A cry.
The Heniatus Territory, surrounded by Stone Mountain and wild hills rather than flatland, had its central city of Raincy similarly encircled by mountains.

The cry came from those mountains.

The roar of beasts.

Whoooosh—
Trees swayed as wind rushed forward. A voice reached the ears of the soldier gripping his spear tightly.

“Too late.”

Too late?
The soldier began to turn his head to look at Kale at the sound of his voice, but froze. A massive beast was descending.
No—they were people, yet they were beasts.

Tiger Tribe.
They had each come down from the mountains and blocked the entrance to prevent the Bear Tribe from advancing.
The voices of knights rang out across the soldiers’ ears.

Knights stationed throughout the city wall shouted to the soldiers.

“These are Tiger Tribe who relocated to Harris Village this past winter! They are our territory’s people!”

The knights drew their swords.

“The enemy shall not cross this city wall! And they shall not escape Raincy!”

The moment the knights drew their swords, they saw Count Derth. Count Derth, now clad in armor, gazed at the hand of the Countess who had approached him. Then he asked the person being held by the scruff of her neck.

“May I begin?”
“Y-yes, of course, my lord. I-I have everything prepared! Hehe.”

Mueller, the rat-tribe hybrid dwarf. The sole heir of the family that had constructed the Magic Tower nodded obsequiously.
As the Count gestured, the knights lowered their swords.

“Begin the defensive battle!”

Shouts erupted from all directions, and soldiers who had trained since last year began to move. Only then did the soldiers wielding spears and arrows follow the formations they had drilled.

Rumble rumble rumble. The thick City Wall. Catapults began rising from various points along it. The massive catapults turned their aim toward the Bear Tribe.
The catapults, inscribed with all manner of magical mechanisms, were Mueller’s masterwork born from his will to survive.

The Knights cried out.

“On our ground, we are stronger!”

The atmosphere atop the City Wall grew solemn.
Clophe’s face twisted at the sight.

‘What is this?’

What in the world was this supposed to be!
His sword, its aura blazing, shattered more bones. Beyond the swarm of skeletons, the Black Dragon merely circled through the air, no longer radiating any semblance of momentum.

These wretched bones weren’t the problem!
The Tiger Tribe—a race that didn’t exist on the Western Continent—and those catapults!
How could a remote fiefdom, a territory with nothing but rocks, be like this?

Not even a kingdom’s capital, yet the quality was higher despite fewer numbers.

Clatter, clatter.
A small skeletal winged monster, having lost one wing, barely fluttered with its remaining wing as it hovered around Clophe.

Clophe’s rage boiled over.

This wouldn’t do.

Clophe turned his Wyvern around, watching the countless skeletons still remaining despite being shattered by Knights and Wyvern Knights.
He saw Kale smiling again.

‘I need to eliminate that bastard first.’

It was a matter of momentum.
Beep, beeeep—
The black pupils of the white wyvern’s eyes shifted. A crimson glow blazed forth.
The wyvern surged toward Kale. Clophe clung tightly to its back.

The speed was beyond imagination—absolutely devastating.
Yet even now, I was smiling.

Kale was laughing.
He opened his mouth as he watched the approaching white wyvern.

“Come.”

The dragon that had been still began to move.

Behind Kale’s back.
Merry’s invisible hand moved. Her face, as she commanded the dragon, had gone deathly pale. Yet her hands moved without hesitation.

Those skeletal creatures were nothing but bait anyway.
Suddenly, with a cacophony of sound, the swarms of skulls began to flee.

But it moved in silence.
Black light swirled within the hollow sockets of the black bones. The skull with black eyes flew toward the shield with tremendous speed.

The Black Dragon opened its maw, aiming for the wyvern’s throat.

“Damn!”

Roaaaar!
The white wyvern bared its fangs and shoved the Black Dragon back.
Yet even though the dragon with black eyes was nothing but bone, it did not yield.

“Grrr!”

Clophe hastily wrenched the reins.
Flap, flap. The Black Dragon spread its wings wide before the Heniatus Castle Wall. To any observer, it appeared as though a dragon of mere bone was standing guard over the Heniatus Castle Wall.

Crash, crash!
White aura and black light collided.

The white wyvern’s claws and fangs lunged toward the Black Dragon.
Yet the dead mana merely rippled against the aura without dissipating. The Black Dragon’s bones remained unmarred.

Screeeech—
The shield trembled once more. The wyverns charged forward. With eyes now burning red, they seemed intent on tearing the shield to shreds with their claws.

Yet Kale remained composed.

“Choi Han.”

Kale had begun what he needed to do—at last.

“Yes, Kale.”

Choi Han took his place beside Kale without hesitation. Releasing one hand from the silver cord connected to the shield, Kale spoke to him.

“It’s your turn.”
“…Did I have something to do?”

Kale had never told Choi Han what his role would be. So Choi Han, as always, had remained like a shadow at Kale’s back.
Yet Kale had determined Choi Han’s purpose from the very beginning.

“Use all your strength.”
“…A new history?”

Choi Han saw Kale’s pale face break into a smile at his question. His calm voice answered as if tossing the words aside.

“Yes. Your history—the one you’ll inscribe in this place.”

Here, in my second home, Heniatus—my history to be carved into this land.
The words rolled across Choi Han’s tongue.

The soldiers around Kale and Choi Han looked at the two with curiosity. What could they possibly be doing in such a dire moment?
Then Kale drew a sword from his bosom and hurled it. It was a blade forged by Mueller.

“It’s yours.”

Kale was giving Choi Han what had always been his rightful place.
From this moment forward, he would become a hero.

The Birth of a Hero.
Volume 5 of that book had ended, but creating a new hero’s birth was something that could be done at will.

“You know better than anyone what you must do.”

Kale fixed his gaze upon Choi Han.

“Come back safely.”

Choi Han accepted the sword Kale offered him. He did not deliberate for long, and immediately drew the blade. Unlike its scabbard, the radiant sword gleamed brilliantly.
Choi Han offered Kale a benevolent smile.

“The sword pleases me.”

In that instant, the blade trembled. Black hair and black eyes—the hue of a man between youth and boyhood began to dominate the sword.

“A, a Sword Master…!”

A soldier gasped before covering his own mouth.
A black aura surged skyward from the blade.

A Sword Master.
The one known to guard Kale was a Sword Master.

A Necromancer, a Sword Master, the Tiger Tribe.
And Kale commanded them all.

The soldiers felt a chill run through them—not from fear, but from something else. Then came the moment.

“I will sever his head and return.”

Choi Han spoke calmly of his purpose. His task would be to behead the author’s guardian knight Clophe, or perhaps the white wyvern the author rode.

Then Choi Han caught sight of Kale’s urgent gesture. Kale’s words came out in a stammer.

“B, before you go to fight, let’s embrace once!”

An embrace? In the middle of war?
Choi Han wondered if Kale had always possessed such a tender side.
He gave Kale, who still held his shield extended with one hand, a gentle embrace.

Kale spoke in a loud voice, ensuring everyone could hear.

“I trust you!”

Choi Han suppressed the surge of emotion welling up inside him and replied.

“…Thank you. I will return with their heads.”

What a waste of words from this bastard!
Kale whispered into his ear in a voice so quiet that no one else could hear.

“Don’t kill them.”

Why waste them by killing them outright?
Kale looked at Choi Han, who remained pure despite their long time together, and spoke with a hint of pity in his voice. His tone was sinister.

“Bring me both of the white ones.”

Ah.
Choi Han let out an exclamation of admiration.
Kale’s expression was one of obvious certainty.
Why waste them by killing them when he could first discover how to control the Wyvern Knights, and then decide whether to kill them or not?
And the bounty for capturing that bastard would be substantial.

“I will complete the mission.”

Choi Han leaped out through the gap in the shield that Kale had opened. His feet touched the black bones.

Tap.
Choi Han landed lightly atop the Black Dragon’s skeletal frame.
Standing upright, he gazed at the two white ones.

A faint yet resolute voice reached Choi Han, whose hearing extended far beyond human limits.

“Begin.”

Kale Heniatus’s command.
An unnamed Sword Master and a forgotten Dragon.
Beings destined to be etched into the continent’s history began to move at Kale Heniatus’s command.

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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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