Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 284

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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 Dwarf was the first to react to the flicker of Destructive Fire.
A race that worked with steel.
Kanel, the Dwarf inseparable from flame, inhaled sharply as he watched the fire wavering in Kale’s palm.

This was not fire meant to melt steel.
Only a malevolent blaze that sought to devour everything—steel and all—could be felt.

“Commander—”

Tribal Chief Kanel called out to Kale, but Kale glanced at him once and moved forward. Choi Han, dressed in priestly robes and wearing his hood, followed in his wake.

“Should we leave him be?”

Choi Han asked Kale. His question clearly referred to the Dwarf Tribal Chief standing motionless.

“It doesn’t matter. Merry has already gone.”

A cold response—since Merry, who would command the Dwarves in place of their chief, had already departed, it made no difference.

“And he’ll move soon enough anyway.”

Yet the words that followed were brimming with certainty. Kale descended the City Wall, his feet finding the stairs that led inward to the castle.
And finally, he turned back to gaze beyond the wall.

“Anyone who sees that and stays still is a fool.”

Choi Han also looked out beyond the wall, then followed Kale toward their destination.
Behind Choi Han and Kale, Tunka charged forward to meet the Imperial Knights rushing at him, wielding only his club.

Crash!
The iron club and sword collided with a thunderous boom.

“Kehehehe.”

The Vice-Captain of the Mogror Empire 3rd Knight Order furrowed his brow at the laughter echoing through his helmet.

‘To think he’d charge at us so suddenly!’

General Tunka stood at the apex of power in the Wipper Kingdom. A war where such a Grand General had taken the field.
Ordinarily, in such conflicts, both sides would establish some semblance of atmosphere, or at least exchange heated words between commanders.
At minimum, there would be decorum and dignity.

But this Grand General, true to his barbaric nature, observed no such niceties. He simply charged forward without hesitation.

‘Engage him.’

Duke Hooten—commander of the Empire’s First Knight Order, supreme commander of the Imperial Palace Knights, and the glorious Sword Master.
He had ordered the Third Knight Order to occupy Tunka and his warriors for a time, despite their complete lack of strategy.

‘Show this wild stallion the glory of the Empire.’

The Third Knight Order, mounted on horseback and clad in magically-reinforced armor. The Vice-Captain watched Tunka charging forward on foot without a sound, and a smile escaped his lips.

War is not child’s play.
So the barbarians rushing forward without any military formation or strategy seemed laughable. Yet the Vice-Captain’s furrowed brow refused to relax.

‘…Such brute force!’

When the iron club collided with his blade, even the magically-reinforced sword transmitted considerable vibration through his hands.
For a moment, the Vice-Captain nearly lost his grip.

Was it only raw strength that terrified him?
Tunka’s elasticity—the way he leaped toward him on horseback—was astonishing.

‘Where is he?’

Gripping his trembling sword hilt, the Vice-Captain unleashed an aura, wisps of pale energy rising from his blade as an upper-tier Expert. The ethereal smoke dispersed into the air.

Crash!

“Gack!”

The Vice-Captain’s eyes widened at the vibration that rang through his helmet. His neck snapped backward.
His helmet was caught in someone’s grip.

“Hehehehe—”

A barbarian chieftain grinned, his teeth bared within the Vice-Captain’s line of sight.

Crackle, snap.
Lightning erupted from the helmet. The electrical magic enchanted alongside its durability activated, lashing out at the enemy to protect its wearer.

It was futile.
The Vice-Captain’s pupils trembled. A sound like thunder roared in his ears.

Crack.

An incomprehensible grip strength crumpled the helmet as if it were paper. The shattered helm slowly peeled away.

Whoooosh—
Wind swept across the Vice-Captain’s face.
Standing atop the horse’s back, the barbarian chieftain released the helmet from his grasp.

Thud!
The ruined helmet tumbled across the dirt. The knight’s body went rigid at the sight of Tunka’s gleaming eyes and the madness etched across his visage.

“Hehehehe—”

Tunka’s hand clamped around the Vice-Captain’s neck.
Magical sparks scattered where his palm met the armor. Yet Tunka felt nothing.

“Y-you savage! Release the Vice-Captain!”

Another knight charged toward Tunka. His blade, a common soldier’s sword, crackled with enchanted electricity. But his strike never reached Tunka.

Clang!

“Ugh!”

A towering woman’s spear batted the sword aside.
Pelia—Tunka’s left arm and the tribe’s greatest Spear Master. She deflected the knight’s blade. Her natural resistance to magic rendered the electrical current utterly harmless.

She was not alone.
The warriors surged relentlessly toward the 3rd Knight Order that had arrived first.
Clad in leather armor and wielding simple weapons—or nothing at all—they threw themselves onto the battlefield without hesitation.

“…These mad barbarians—!”

The ordinary knight who had rushed to save the Vice-Captain froze in shock.

They were laughing.
Tunka and Pelia, his left arm, were both grinning, teeth bared.

“Krahahahaha!”

General Tunka’s laughter shook the entire battlefield.

Thud. Thud. Thud.
Behind Tunka and his warriors, soldiers who had not yet charged into battle rolled their spear shafts against the ground, sending vibrations rippling outward.
As if welcoming a festival of the tribe once branded as savage, the soldiers beat the earth with their spears, their rough breathing ragged with the frenzy of celebration.

‘Not a single one of them is sane!’

They were different from the Wipper Kingdom Army at Maple Castle last year. Far more fundamentally unhinged than before.
Especially their leader.

“Hack!”

The Vice-Captain was hurled from his horse as if discarded by overwhelming force. The barbarian leader seized the mount instead, his gaze turning toward the ordinary knight.
The knight’s breath caught in his throat at that stare.

But the leader—Tunka—was not looking at him.

“General Tunka.”

The ordinary knight’s body tensed at the voice from behind. Yet relief washed over him simultaneously.

The Empire’s Sword, Duke Hooten.
He advanced slowly on horseback toward Tunka. His voice was measured, yet an arrogance that did not regard Tunka as a true threat gleamed beneath it.

“It has been long. It feels like only yesterday we met in the Empire.”
“Where is he?”

Yet Tunka dismissed Duke Hooten cleanly. The Duke’s eyebrow twitched, but he continued calmly—the composure of a true master.

“What are you talking about? Where is he?”

Hehehehe.
At Duke Hooten’s question, Tunka chuckled with the satisfaction of a predator spotting its prey, licking his lips and speaking as if savoring the moment.

“Adin. I’m talking about Adin.”

Silence fell over the moment. Only Tunka broke it with his voice.

“Where is that cowardly bastard Adin?!”

Adin. The Crown Prince of the Mogur Empire and the de facto heir to the throne.
Tunka called out his name as if summoning some street thug nearby.

The Imperial Army’s expressions froze in shock.
And one more—Kanel, the Tribal Chief of the Flame Dwarves stationed atop the Spire Tower of Maple Castle, stood rigid and motionless.

“Coward, don’t hide! Come out! I’ll crush you with these fists! Krahahahaha!”

Tunka’s roar echoed across the field.
Coward, don’t hide and come out.

Tap. Tap.
The Tribal Chief of the Flame Dwarves slowly began to move, backing away from the battlefield with measured steps. Kale’s voice resonated in his mind.

‘You’ll see soon enough. What you must do.’

The Dwarf Tribal Chief exhaled the breath he’d been holding as he retreated.

“Phew.”

Duke Hooten also released a deep breath. Yet his eyes burned with barely contained fury.

“General Tunka, I am currently exercising restraint.”

No matter how strong Tunka was, Duke Hooten could perceive his level. That statement meant Duke Hooten held the advantage over Tunka.
The Duke, who had maintained composure as a true warrior, now began to sharpen his edge upon witnessing this crude brute who had abandoned all courtesy.

“Restraint?”

Hehehehe!
But Tunka shook his shoulders with laughter.
He recalled the conversation he’d had with Kale in the Spire Tower before Choi Han and Rosalind arrived.

‘I’m sorry for only receiving this time. Is there anything you want?’

Tunka could see Kale’s surprise at his question. But he soon spoke with his usual composed expression.

‘Duke Hooten isn’t enough. It’s a shame.’

Tunka couldn’t help but think that this man was weak yet strong at the same time.
Who else would say such a thing upon seeing the Imperial Army?

‘The Crown Prince. Drag him into this mud pit, or rather, this Fire Pit with us. We can’t be the only ones suffering.’

Those words pleased Tunka immensely.
And so, while speaking courteously on the surface, he mocked the Empire from behind—the Empire that threatened and harbored ambitions to swallow the Wipper Kingdom whole.

“If you’re targeting Wipper, that Crown Prince bastard should have come down himself!”

Tunka’s body, which had been on horseback, surged forward in an instant.

Boom!

A thunderous sound erupted.
Knights blocked Tunka’s path.
A wall made of knights’ swords. Tunka shouted as he looked beyond it at Duke Hooten.

“I’ll make you roll in the mud pit, or rather, in the Fire Pit! You all must stand on the same ground as us!”

Nobility, royalty, emperors—none of it mattered!
Destroy it all, and that’s that.

“Wipper is not weak!”

Tunka’s cry filled the battlefield. It reached everyone’s ears.
Kale laughed at that voice, saying it had good resonance, and Kanel the Dwarf, who had been backing away, clenched his fists and turned to flee, turning his back on the battlefield.
Toward the opposite direction of the battlefield, heading for the inner castle.

Boom!

In that same instant, the wall formed by five blades crumbled.
Tunka charged forward, ignoring the blade edges that grazed his body.

Whether they stood in high places or possessed great strength, it mattered not—he would drag them all down to his level. On the ground, all were equal.
Magic? Aura? When humans were born, they were given only one thing: their own body. Tunka was a man who had grown by battling nature itself with nothing but that body.

He feared nothing because he trusted in the body he was born with. And now, he no longer feared what lay behind him.

Clang!
Duke Hooten drew his sword.
Aura surged forth. Tunka had magic resistance but no aura resistance. Only certain defeat awaited him.

Whoooosh—

Aura mist rose from the elite warriors of the Empire’s 1st Knight Order. At minimum, high-level Experts. They raised their blades toward the warriors behind Tunka.
And from behind the Knights Order, the Mage Battalion commander cried out.

“First wave attack—prepare!”

At that cry, the mana near the Imperial Mage Battalion began to vibrate.
Duke Hooten laughed as he watched Tunka charging straight toward him.

“General Tunka, your warriors will fall to our Knights Order, and your soldiers will fall to our Mages.”

The warriors with magic resistance would be slain by the Knights, while the soldiers without magic resistance would be slain by the Mages.
The horse bearing Duke Hooten shot forward.

Crash!

Duke Hooten’s sword and Tunka’s iron club collided.

Screech.
The aura carved into the iron club.
This was the law of nature. The formula where the strong trampled the weak, and the limit of the Tribal Warriors.
Duke Hooten swung his sword lightly as he spoke to Tunka.

“Do you feel the direction of the wind?”

The wind blew from the Empire toward the Wipper Kingdom.

“The spring wind blows from the Empire to the Wipper Kingdom.”

The spring wind of the Western Continent always blew from west to east. Tunka gripped the severed club once more and charged toward Duke Hooten.

Crash!

The moment the sword and the severed club collided, Duke Hooten gazed at the barbarian whose hair was even more disheveled than a lion’s mane, and whispered with a bitter smile.

“Why didn’t you simply abandon those eighty years?”

Eighty years of one hundred thousand slaves.
Duke Hooten peeled away another layer of his pretense.
That was when it happened.

“Spouting nonsense about spring winds like a fool.”

Kehehehe.
Tunka’s laughter echoed.

At the same moment, a wind was felt.
Not the spring wind blowing from the Empire to Wipper, from west to east, but a different wind was felt.

Duke Hooten’s gaze turned toward the space behind Tunka.

A wind blows.

A wind comes from Maple Castle.
The wind surges outward from Maple Castle.

Screeeech— screeeech—

A strange sound rang out.
Like the sound of long-dormant machinery stirring to life once more, or twisted gears gradually finding their place and meshing together.
That sound came with the wind.

“Kahahaha! You’ve arrived! As expected!”

Tunka’s flickering gaze bore into Duke Hooten with the intensity of a predator ready to tear him apart.

“My back is strong now! Kahahaha!”

Saaaaa—
A violent wind swept across the gentle spring breeze that flowed with nature’s rhythm, reversing its direction entirely.
From east to west.
The wind that had been blowing from the Empire toward Wipper suddenly shifted in the opposite direction.
Yet the Empire did not even sense the wind moving toward them.

They rose into the air.

From the heart of Maple Castle.
White birds began to ascend from that place.

Wingless creatures—nothing but bone, these white birds of death.
They beat their wings, stirring the wind itself.

Among them, the most colossal.
A skeletal bird embedded with multiple high-grade magic stones spread its half-folded wings as if to dominate the very sky.

That bird was held by a leash in someone’s grasp.
The lion tribesman atop the Black Alchemy Tower cried out without thinking.

“Tribal Chief Kanel…! Why are those damned dwarves there!”

The one holding the bird’s leash was Kanel, Tribal Chief of the Flame Dwarf Clan.
Having moved away from the city wall, he had gone to where his clansmen waited within the castle. Tunka’s voice thundered from behind him.

‘Cowards, come out and face me!’
‘Wipper is not weak!’

And Kale’s voice struck relentlessly through his mind.

‘You will see soon enough. What you must do.’

Tribal Chief Kanel gripped the leash controlling the skeletal bird in one hand while his other hand clenched the communication crystal tightly.
The dwarves controlling the other four skeletal birds watched their small tribal chief’s back.
Dwarves whose stature seemed absurdly diminished compared to the size of the skeletal birds—to their tribal chief standing atop the largest bird, the man beyond the communication crystal spoke.

-Don’t worry about what comes after.

The Tribal Chief turned to look back.
At the highest peak of Maple Castle.
Their commander stood there, watching over them.

The direction of the wind had shifted.

-The wind will carry the fire forward.

The commander’s voice scattered with the wind.

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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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