Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 211

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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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The two men stopped in the center of the Grand Conference Hall.
Countless eyes from the circular seating arrangement surrounding them fixed upon the pair.

Crown Prince Albert, resplendent in white and gold regalia, and Kale Heniatus in a black uniform that made his crimson hair stand out prominently.

The two were so starkly different that they drew even more attention.

The murmuring gradually subsided, and soon silence descended upon the Grand Conference Hall.
Albert Crossman, observing the hall around him, felt the corners of his mouth gradually rise.

‘A madman.’

This man claimed he needed no power? That he would wash his hands clean once the war ended? That he could swear an oath to that?
He clenched his tingling palm briefly before releasing it.

‘He always exceeds my expectations.’

That commanding presence that made his palm tingle. An atmosphere that couldn’t be seen but could be felt, emanating from a single person.
That atmosphere came from Kale Heniatus.

‘He’s sincere.’

The man who always avoided exposure and only revealed his greed was now showing himself without concealment. The Crown Prince couldn’t help but smile.

‘If he’s sincere, then I should match his sincerity.’

Today, the Crown Prince had relinquished part of his role. He had resolved to follow Kale Heniatus’s lead.
Such a thing was hardly difficult.

Meanwhile, there was someone facing a difficult situation.

“Hmm.”

Sand Ailan Marquis. He let out a low hum.
His expression, famous for its lack of change and emotional restraint, had turned grim.

His gaze, which should have been fixed on the smiling Crown Prince Albert Crossman, instead remained locked on Kale Heniatus and would not waver.

‘…No matter how much praise he receives, I thought he was ultimately just a greenhorn.’

But he is no greenhorn.
Then what is he?

Sand Ailan Marquis, being a martial artist, was more sensitive to the aura and presence that people emanated. He believed that the atmosphere a person radiated was the truest representation of their life.

Yet now, from Kale Heniatus, he sensed the aura of a king, of a ruler—more so than from Albert Crossman, who had been raised since childhood to ascend the throne.

It was an aura that suggested he would stand firm and unwavering even if faced with the Dragon Fear of the dragon said to be the strongest in the world.

‘I’m being overwhelmed by his aura.’

As a supreme-level Expert, the Marquis’s heightened senses were enveloped by this presence.

Of course, had Kale known what the Marquis was thinking, he would have applauded at the accuracy. Because Kale had just finished a sumptuous meal of Royal Court cuisine and was freely wielding his ‘dominating aura.’

Unaware of this, the Marquis’s gaze remained fixed on Kale.
Then, Crown Prince Albert’s lips parted.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen so many gathered like this.”

As the de facto regent and with his succession to the throne now secure, Albert had begun speaking casually to the nobles. The Ailan Marquis watched the smiling Crown Prince and pressed his fingers against his temples.

Truly, his premonition was not good.

When the Crown Prince smiled like that, it meant he held the advantage.
Albert moved slowly forward.

“I should take my place as well. But you know…”

He stopped and turned around.

“There’s no seat for our commander?”

There was indeed no seat for Kale in this space.
This was the doing of the Orsena Duchy Family faction, which had formed around the Capital.

It was a shallow move.
The nobles sat while the one being interrogated under the guise of questions stood. It was the beginning of a power struggle.

“Ahem.”

Granicke Duke, the head of the Orsena Duchy Family, made no effort to hide his discomfort. He stared at the Crown Prince, who spoke of his own deeds only now, despite knowing them all too well.

Then their eyes met.
Kale Heniatus—he was looking directly at the Duke.

“I have no fondness for conducting conversations while standing.”

My gaze slowly swept across the Grand Conference Hall. The nobles who saw that look understood its meaning immediately.

Looking down upon them.

“This arrangement suits me well enough.”

As if to say that looking down upon them this way felt quite pleasant, I offered my first smile in the Grand Conference Hall.

A noble from the Southeast Faction’s eyes met mine. The moment my gaze passed over him, he convulsed and opened his mouth.

“I—I heard you were a madman! Your temperament truly hasn’t changed, has it?”
“Silence.”
“Pardon?”

The noble unconsciously looked toward his faction’s leader.
Sand Ailan Marquis, who rarely furrowed his brow, now fixed a sharp gaze upon the noble of his own faction.

“I said to keep your mouth shut.”
“…My Lord Marquis?”

The Marquis turned his head away.

“Can’t you see the eyes of those Northeast Faction bastards?”
“Pardon?”

The noble had never seen the Marquis speak so much. Following his words, he looked toward the Northeast Faction’s seating. The Marquis’s voice reached him.

“All of their eyes are fixed on Kale Heniatus.”
“…Are they afraid?”

Like me.
The nobleman swallowed those words.
At that moment, he caught sight of a Marquis wearing a faint smile. When the nobleman shrank back slightly under the Marquis’s gaze—as if to say he still had much to learn—the Marquis opened his mouth.

“It’s not fear. It’s admiration.”
“Pardon?”

Sand Ailan Marquis realized that the Northeast Faction had gathered not around Count Derth, but around his son, Kale Heniatus. Moreover, he sensed a bond between them that transcended mere power or greed.

“…I’ll have to abandon the Northeast.”

His resolve hardened as he spoke.

“It’s fortunate the Northeast is all that’s affected.”

It was providence that only the Northeast had gathered around Kale Heniatus. He was grateful to have learned of it now; had he remained ignorant, the entire kingdom would surely have been consumed by that man.

A person with such presence naturally draws others closer. Without even realizing it, they accumulate followers beneath them.

‘The other factions will inevitably be swallowed up, or his power will grow even further.’

Sand Marquis felt fortunate to have gained time to know and prevent it.

However, there was one flaw in his reasoning.

“Then let us proceed with the council.”

Crown Prince Albert announced the beginning of the meeting with considerable cheerfulness. Then he turned his gaze toward a certain nobleman.

A nobleman seated beside Granicke Duke hesitated and rose to his feet upon receiving that gaze. He was the Proceedings Count who oversaw the Grand Nobility Council.

He stood and unfolded a document containing the meeting’s agenda. After clearing his throat several times, he spoke.

“Ahem, we cannot proceed with the meeting as not all attendees have yet arrived.”

The Proceedings Count turned his gaze away from the Crown Prince, whose smile remained gentle, and continued.

“Why did the Commander come alone? The official document clearly requested the attendance of two others as well.”

The Count glanced slightly at his superior, Orsena Duke, and the Duke nodded as if to say continue. With permission granted by the obstinate-looking Duke, the Count straightened his shoulders and looked toward Kale Heniatus.

And he flinched.

‘What kind of person—!’

It felt exactly like a herbivore standing before a predator. Sweat broke out down the Count’s back without his realizing it, under Kale’s gaze directed at him.
Even Orca Arch struggled against such an aura—a fragile human had few options when struck by it head-on.

Tap, tap.
Kale, who had been standing in the center, moved forward.
And he stopped near the Count.

The Count lowered his gaze slightly, avoiding Kale’s eyes. It was an involuntary response. Otherwise, he felt as though he couldn’t breathe.
Kale’s voice reached him.

“Since you’ve lowered your head, I’m not sure whom I should address my answer to.”

The Count bit his lip and lifted his head again. But soon his eyes dropped downward once more.

It was then.
The Crown Prince’s eyebrows, seated at the highest position facing the entrance, twitched slightly.

Creak.
With a very faint sound, the entrance opened just slightly.
Though Knights guarded the door, it opened only minutely—so narrow that not even a finger could slip through—and remained neither opening further nor closing.

Alberu realized that Kale’s people—the Sword Master and the Necromancer—were the ones who had opened the door. So he understood why the Knights would refrain from touching it.

Alberu’s assumption was correct.
Choi Han stood directly in front of the barely-open door gap, his hand resting on his sword hilt. Then he listened intently.

Soon Kale’s voice reached both his and Merry’s ears.

Kale looked down at the Proceedings Count—the only one standing beside him and simultaneously unable to meet his gaze—and opened his mouth.

“When we decided on the Naval uniform, I requested that it be black.”

It was an abrupt topic.
Several nobles momentarily wondered what direction this was heading, but they held their breath at the low voice that followed.
The voice of the figure standing at the center of the vast Grand Conference Hall resonated through the space.

“That way, even if blood dries, it won’t leave a mark.”

An expressionless face, devoid of any smile, met the gazes of the nobles.

“The blood on the Northeast Fortress Wall has not yet dried. Blood continues to overflow into the Northeast Sea.”

Words flowing from the Northeast Commander’s lips. Those words brought the battle of the Heniatus Territory, which they had witnessed through video communication, vividly to the minds of the nobles.
They had marveled at that sight and felt a chill run through them. But now.

“Whose blood might that be?”

Along with the low voice of the one who had stood at the vanguard, the image of that war took on an entirely different meaning.
Whose blood could it be.
I posed the question and answered it myself.

“The enemy’s.”

The nobles who had never experienced war. They realized that the figure before them was no nobleman. The weight of the title “Commander” slowly began to sink in.

“The enemy of Rowan, the enemy of the Northeast Region, my enemy.”

My gaze turned back toward the Count.

“And the enemy of my people.”

My enemy. More than that phrase—the enemy of my people.
Those words pierced the Count’s ears like an awl. The hand holding the script trembled slightly.

A warning.
My people.
A warning not to touch the Sword Master and the Necromancer.

The watching Marquis Aylan let out a sigh.

“…A monster.”

A steadfast tree. A hero who never compromises, never yields, and holds his ground.
I should have felt this during the Capital’s magical bomb incident.
The Marquis realized that Kale Heniatus was truly the exemplar of a righteous hero.

And so he felt relief.
Thank goodness he wasn’t devious.
The Marquis was reassured.

That was when it happened.

“Rowan is strong.”

Kale paid no mind to the order of proceedings.

Would he respond to the Caro Kingdom’s request?
He brought up the ostensible business that had summoned him to this place today.

“Respond to the Caro Kingdom’s request.”
“That is a matter of judgment—”

A noble from the Orsena Duchy’s faction hastily opened his mouth. But Kale did not look at him; instead, he gazed upon the one seated at the highest position.

“Your Highness.”

Crown Prince Albert.

“What do you think?”

He answered Kale’s question without hesitation.

“Based on the documents reported from the Northeastern Naval Base, Rowan currently has more than sufficient forces to maintain the Northeast’s defensive system while providing aid to the Caro Kingdom.”

Several nobles from the Aylan Marquis faction and the Orsena Duchy faction stirred in their seats. They seemed ready to speak up the moment the Crown Prince finished.
They were the sort who would not abandon their own interests even if they were terrified.

But the Crown Prince continued without paying them any mind.

“And if we help the Caro Kingdom, there will be considerable benefits for us afterward. Looking ahead to the future, the gains will be even more substantial.”
“But the regions outside the Northeast lack sufficient troop reserves—!”

One of the nobles spoke up urgently, but his words never reached their conclusion.
The Crown Prince continued with unhurried ease, as if he had anticipated the question.

“The Capital and Central Region have the Mage Battalion. And our Royal Family has the Knights Order as well.”

The Crown Prince’s gaze turned toward the Aylan Marquis Family.

“The Southeast Region has Rowan’s strongest martial forces.”

The Marquis hesitated for a moment.
Seeing that hesitation, a loyal noble opened his mouth.
He spoke urgently while avoiding Kale Heniatus’s gaze.

“But the Western Region will lack sufficient forces! We must send spare troops from the Northeast Region westward!”

It was a proposal that would reduce the Northeast Region’s forces, including those of Kale Heniatus, while simultaneously creating an opportunity for other nobles to involve themselves in those troops.
Of course, it was not the plan the Marquis Household desired.

Because it would benefit the Southwest and Northwest factions more.
The original plan had been for the Southeast to consume the Northeast’s forces, but the noble had maneuvered to shift the flow back in favor of the nobility.
And as if confirming that judgment was correct, several nobles nodded their heads.

They were also certain of one thing.
Now the Southwest and Northwest factions would scramble to claim this proposal as their own.
When they thrashed about, they would subtly maneuver so that power flowed to the Central faction or the Southeast faction, while securing their own gains as well.
That was what they believed.

It was at that moment.
An aged voice resonated through the conference hall.
It was a voice I was hearing for the first time today.

“The Southwest Region is strong enough to guard its own gates.”

The elderly noblewoman, Duchess Sonata, had spoken.

“Your Majesty, the Southwest Region’s defensive line is sufficient.”

Her voice carried both conviction and a certain anticipation.

‘Oh no!’

The expressions of Sand Ailan Marquis and Granicke Duke shifted instantly. The two, who had known Duchess Sonata for a long time, recognized the gleam in her eyes and understood.

That old woman has something up her sleeve.

This elderly noble was not one to speak carelessly. Rather, she was someone who kept every word she uttered.
Sand Ailan Marquis’s face began to contort increasingly.

‘I heard the Duchy was forced to close its doors because of Kale Heniatus. Weren’t they enemies?’

Shouldn’t these two have been enemies?

But this wasn’t the end.
Another person opened their mouth.

“The Northwest Region is also secure.”

A man with a gentle impression, yet known among the nobility for his ruthlessness.
Taylor Sten.
The nobles had assumed that after he became the head of his household, he was too preoccupied with governing the Northwest Region to participate in central politics.

But that was not the case.
He had merely been holding his breath, following Kale’s counsel and the Crown Prince’s orders.
To become a blade honed and sharpened for this very moment.

Taylor, the head of House Sten responsible for the Northwest Region, added one more word.

“I concur with the Commander’s statement.”

The Northwest and Southwest Regions.
Among the western faction nobles, only their two leaders spoke.
The others kept their mouths shut and stared straight ahead.

“…This is troublesome.”
“My Lord Marquis—”

Sand Ailan Marquis couldn’t pay attention to the call of another noble.

Sonata Gyel Duke.
Taylor Sten Marquis.

The Marquis could see the clothing of these two figures.
And he could see the attire of the Northeast Region nobles.

Black.
They were dressed in uniforms unified by that single color.

The color the Northeastern Naval forces had chosen because blood would leave no trace upon it.

They had come prepared to stain themselves with blood.

The blood of my enemies, the blood of my allies’ enemies—they would wear it willingly and depart.

The Aylan Marquis turned his head.
He saw the Crown Prince smiling. He wore a black dress shirt beneath a white coat.

Beyond the Crown Prince, the Marquis’s gaze came to rest.
There, he beheld Kale Heniatus looking back at him with a smile.

He had been outmaneuvered.

This man was no hero.
He was someone who understood power, who understood dominion.

The Crown Prince’s voice reached the ears of Granicke Duke and the Aylan Marquis.

“We are strong.”

We.
The meaning of that word was unmistakable.
They could see Kale respond to the Crown Prince’s words with a smile.

“That is correct. We are strong. Strong enough to obliterate anything that stands before us.”

Yes, we were that strong.

And only then did fear begin to creep up the spines of those who were not part of that “we.”

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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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