Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 250

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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 53. Three Days

The Dragon was dead.
Murdered.

The moment I heard that fact, a conversation flashed through my mind. Erhafen had assumed I wouldn’t know the relationship between the Dragon Slayer and the Dragon, but I already did.

Clophe Seka. When I interrogated the guardian knight to gather information. The conversation I’d had with Clophe then surfaced in my mind once more.

‘Cough, they say he’s a fake Dragon Slayer. Hack. Also, among the leadership of Dark who stands with him in the Indomitable Alliance, there is a Mage and a Healer.’
‘Two hundred years ago on the Eastern Continent, cough, he grew by consuming the most recently deceased Ancient Dragon, they say.’

The scattered pieces of information combined, and my mind began working rapidly.

Two hundred years ago, the most recently deceased Ancient Dragon on the Eastern Continent.
Upon hearing those words, I had assumed the Ancient Dragon died naturally. Because the fake Dragon Slayer had said during interrogation that he had never actually killed a Dragon before.

“Erhafen.”

I slowly organized my thoughts and posed a question.

“Was that dead Dragon the oldest on the Eastern Continent?”
“Yes. That bastard was the oldest on the Eastern Continent.”
“…How long has it been since you last saw him?”
“Hmm, not long. About two or three hundred years?”

It was that Dragon.
I raised my hand and wiped my eyes. I felt the weight of additional matters demanding my attention.
But the most pressing problem was something else.

“Is Raon in his growth period?”

Wheeze, wheeze.
The child’s labored breathing filled the silent tent. The Black Dragon exhaled white vapor with each breath, his body growing hotter than before, his breathing ragged. Unlike the surroundings warming as dawn passed into morning, only Raon appeared cold.
The Black Dragon breathed out white steam with each breath, its body growing hotter than before as it panted heavily. Unlike the surroundings that warmed as dawn passed and morning arrived, only Raon appeared cold.

Kale Heniatus continued speaking while wiping Raon’s heated forehead with his rough hand.

“Since early this morning, I’ve had a fever and no strength in my body. The fever keeps rising, and I’ve lost consciousness.”
“You haven’t lost consciousness.”

The hand stroking my head came to a stop.

I hadn’t lost consciousness?

I stared at Raon, whose eyes remained closed. Clearly, he couldn’t open his eyes or speak, yet he’d heard everything? Deep furrows carved themselves across my brow.

“Move aside.”

I watched as Erhafen lifted the limp Raon into his arms.

Erhafen’s hands, wreathed in mana, gently soothed the Young Dragon’s body, then slowly pressed his forehead against the small forehead of the Black Dragon.

Thump.
Thump. Thump.

I felt the Young Dragon’s heartbeat.
At the same moment, Raon’s voice reached him alone.

I want to open my eyes so badly!
I want to be with you all so badly!

A six-year-old’s silent cry reverberated within that small frame. Raon was fighting fiercely right now.

“It’s the first growth phase.”

Dragons undergo three growth phases in total.
During the first phase, a dragon reconstructs its body and lays the foundation for future growth. Thus, there are no external changes, but internally, it becomes a being of an entirely different caliber.
In the second and third phases, the body grows dramatically and takes on the bearing of a sovereign.

The ancient dragon, having experienced all three growth phases, regarded Raon with an enigmatic expression.

‘Why is this little one undergoing growth now?’

Growth that had been blocked and impossible until now was finally progressing. Curious about the reason, yet watching the Young Dragon emit ever-increasing heat, I uttered a single remark.

“It seems you’ll experience quite severe growth pains.”

Typically, a dragon’s first growth phase lasted at least a week.

“The longer and more severe the growth pains during the first phase, the stronger the dragon becomes.”

If his prediction was correct, Raon would either suffer for quite some time, or overcome it with remarkable speed—one of those two outcomes seemed inevitable.
After all, those who were inherently different from others always revealed their uniqueness in their growth as well.

Erhafen wiped the sweat from the Black Dragon’s face. In that moment, Kale Heniatus’s voice reached his ears.

“…Truly, this world is rotten. What good is growing while suffering?”

Kale Heniatus could understand at least one reason why dragons all possessed such temperamental natures.
What was the point of growing while enduring pain?
Kale Heniatus found it far from appealing. Wouldn’t it be best to grow slowly without pain? After all, dragons lived for such long lifespans—what difference would a slower growth rate make?

“Hahaha—”

Erhafen’s laughter filled the tent. He soon stifled his amusement and placed Raon back upon the bed.

“There’s little we can do at this moment. We simply need to protect him from danger while remaining at his side. And when he awakens, we should provide him with a comfortable place to rest for several days. Well, this little one has all of that already.”

I could see Kale Heniatus’s expression, brimming with dissatisfaction.
But Erhafen said nothing more to him.

A dragon’s growth is a battle with oneself. Countless collisions must be occurring within that small body.

‘Moreover, a dragon’s growth pains are also a struggle with what he will come to bear.’

Why were dragons inherently selfish by nature?
Perhaps it was their own shield against suffering.
Because bearing only oneself was the least painful and most comfortable way.

But this little one I had observed was an unusual dragon, for he had accumulated many relationships around him.
Whether those would become burdens or shields—that could only be determined by witnessing this dragon’s growth.

“…In any case, that’s not the real problem.”

Hmm.
Kale Heniatus exhaled softly.
Erhafen’s eyes, though gleaming with a platinum brilliance, had sunk into darkness.

Dragon slayer.
Rage directed at that very existence.
Kale’s mind grew tangled, but he rose from his seat nonetheless.
In that instant, both Kale and the Ancient Dragon opened their mouths simultaneously.

“Let’s go.”
“How are you still alive?”

…What?

“…Pardon?”

Kale was genuinely bewildered. Erhafen glanced at Raon’s closed eyes—he had heard everything—then walked toward Kale without hesitation. He seized my arm and lifted it.

“Why are you still alive, is what I’m asking.”
“…Is it wrong for me to be alive?”

What kind of absurd thing is this?
Kale’s face contorted, and the Ancient Dragon’s eyes flashed with a light he might have called irreverent for the first time. Yet as his next action unfolded, his voice rose involuntarily.

“What are you—”

A small blade of mana materialized between Erhafen’s fingers.
And that blade slashed across Kale’s arm.

Slash—

The black uniform and the shirt beneath it were severed in an instant by the sharp mana blade. At the sight, Kale gasped in shock.

“You insane— what?”

Clang!
A hard, metallic sound rang out.
Kale’s gaze darted between the mana blade and his arm. His arm was unscathed. My arm, emitting a hard metallic sound, repelled the mana blade.

‘What is happening?’

Kale Heniatus’s pupils trembled.

When did my body become like this?
I felt nothing at all?
Everything seemed perfectly fine?

Kale had no idea that his pale skin had hardened and become rigid. No one else could have known either. Raon would have noticed, but he was in no position to do so right now.

In that moment, Erhafen’s voice reached his ears.

“It’s the power of stone.”

Stone?
The fearsome Jjangdol flashed through Kale’s mind. Using Jjangdol’s power, his vessel had expanded. He could feel it himself.
That’s why he thought his body had become even more stabilized.

But was that not the case?

“Kale Heniatus, you’ve used the power of water far too much.”

Faced with Erhafen’s stern expression and tone, Kale could say nothing.

The water he commanded.
He had indeed used that unstable power extensively this time.

“Your regenerative power prevented the collision that the unstable water was trying to cause.”

Erhafen’s gaze turned toward Kale’s collar. The distinctive metallic scent of blood reached his nostrils.

Before gaining Jjangdol’s power, the vitality of his heart had been preventing the collision of different attributes.
But now was different from then.
Though the place of loss was unknown, the place of origin was known—the original water power was fading, and balance was crumbling.

“Now I see it. The stone power you possess is protecting your body. You haven’t experienced any backlash from using the stone power yet, have you?”

Kale affirmed through silence.

Whether he unleashed lightning or raised his shield, the recoil always forced blood from his lips.
But the stone was different. Kale Heniatus had assumed that because this rock protected him, nothing was amiss.

‘…Protect?’

I recalled what Jjangdol had said.

‘I will destroy to protect, and I will stand before you to protect.’

The destructive force was the Stone Spear.
Then what was the force that stood before me?

Kale Heniatus’s gaze turned toward Erhafen. The ancient dragon looked pallid and frail as always, but spoke while looking down at Kale’s arm, which deflected danger as it usually did.

“The stone’s power still envelops you. Your body hasn’t burst apart because of the rock.”

Erhafen’s lips curved upward. One mystery had been solved.

“I wondered how a human could enter the stone pillar passage. Since it can block the collision between external and internal forces, entry into the passage became possible.”

The stone pillar passage in the Jjangdol Mansion. I had wondered how Jjangdol’s master, a human, had ever entered that place.
The answer lay in this skin, identical to the stone.

Erhafen felt a genuine, profound question arise.

‘…Terrifying Jjangdol. Who is the master of that power?’

Who possessed such strength in both offense and defense?

‘Is he even human?’

The ancient dragon recalled ages long before his own birth, but quickly dismissed the thought. The Dragon Slayer, the Dragon Hybrid, Raon—because of these three, the ancient dragon had returned in haste, only to face something far more urgent.

“Kale Heniatus. If you wish to live, you must find the water.”

The water of judgment.
That ancient power flooded my mind. I knew it existed somewhere on the Eastern Continent, yet its location remained utterly unknowable.
Now I understood—the time had come to seek that power.

But Erhafen’s voice that followed was cruelly cold.

“You have three days.”

Three days—the span of time your body can endure.
Those words, laden with meaning, reverberated through the tent.

Writhe, writhe.
A single toe on the Young Dragon’s small foreleg twitched. The Black Dragon’s brow furrowed. As if expending every ounce of strength, his expression grew increasingly urgent, and with each moment, Raon’s body temperature climbed.
Erhafen and Kale Heniatus, locked in their tense exchange, failed to notice the other changes unfolding.

A dragon’s growth is arduous when burdened with so much to bear.
But the Young Dragon was a child who had learned to carry weight not alone, but together with others.

As though the writhing had never occurred, the Young Dragon’s body stilled once more, yet within, a fierce battle raged on.

Erhafen opened his mouth again, observing Kale Heniatus’s unwavering composure.

“That is the limit of your body.”
“And beyond that limit?”

The Ancient Dragon fell silent for a moment.
He had never witnessed a human who had accumulated as much ancient power as Kale Heniatus. Yet he knew that humans who possessed two or more attributes had perished.

The Ancient Dragon possessed a truth he had only come to understand at the twilight of his long existence.

All life dies.

And simultaneously, as the end of his ages drew near, he awakened to an instinct he had only just begun to comprehend. Not as a dragon possessed of superior intellect, but as a living being—a primal instinct.
He spoke that instinct aloud.

“I have no intention of letting you die.”

In that instant, the Ancient Dragon witnessed a smile bloom at the corners of Kale Heniatus’s lips.

“Then there is a way.”

Ha!
An exclamation escaped Erhafen’s lips.

‘Indeed, this unlucky fellow is different.’

He understood me far too well.
Even a dragon awakening to instinct belatedly, a dragon possessed of firm reason would not speak words devoid of reality.

Erhafen offered a faint smile at Kale Heniatus’s composed demeanor and nodded.

“There exists a trace left behind by a dead dragon.”

A glimmer of intrigue flickered across Kale Heniatus’s eyes.
A premonition stirred within him.

He had found the thread.
His instinct awakened him to the discovery—the thread of the water that judges.

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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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