Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 289

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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 Western Continent was in shock.

Crown Prince Albert Crossman smiled through the video communication. Kale watched him from the empty War Room sofa, leaning back against it.

The end of the first battle.
The Western Continent had to hear the astonishing news.

The Empire’s crushing defeat.
The Empire, which should have been overwhelming, had crumbled to the Wipper Kingdom.

-Rumors that Duke Hooten had been captured as a prisoner were spreading rapidly across the Western Continent.
“Aren’t you smiling a bit too much?”

Kale turned away from Alberu, whose face and tongue gleamed with an unusually radiant vitality, as if coated in oil. When he did, through the windows of Maple Castle, he saw the Destructive Fire—the only flame still burning brilliantly while all others had been extinguished.
Then, through the window of Maple Castle, Destructive Fire was seen burning brightly, the only flame still blazing while all the other fires had gone out.

Hehe, our fire is beautiful, isn’t it?

Kale ignored the Destructive Fire’s voice. Then Alberu’s radiant face came into view again.
Kale turned away from Destructive Fire’s voice. Then Alberu’s bright face came into view again.

A message came from the Mogur Empire.

It was predictable.

“And?”
So what?

Alberu answered with a very pleased expression on his face.

“It is the truth. I only gave him a vacation.”
“That’s true. I did give him time off, though.”

The Black Dragon Raon shook his head side to side as he looked at Cale and Alberu’s expressions. Regardless, Cale spoke bluntly.

“The results of the Imperial war are spreading across the Western Continent far too quickly. That’s strange.”

Despite his words suggesting something was amiss, Alberu chuckled at the steady gaze fixed upon him and replied.

-Yeah. I spread the word.

News of the Empire’s defeat—detailed information about the circumstances—had reached the ‘people’ of the Western Continent with remarkable speed.
In other words, it was spreading among the common folk, not the leadership of each kingdom.

Not even half a day had passed since the first battle concluded, yet in the capitals of each kingdom, the Empire’s defeat had become a fascinating topic of conversation.

-This way, the Empire will grow desperate, won’t they?
“Truly magnificent. Your swift movements are as nimble as a flying squirrel’s.”

Whether praise or mockery, Alberu’s face contorted. With a disgruntled expression, he spoke to someone of similar temperament.

-And you yourself will be heading to the Empire to spread rumors, won’t you?

Simultaneously, Alberu’s gaze shifted to the figure behind Kale.

-Well, of course our Empire’s Sword seems to have received quite a shock, so we should handle that first.

A person bound with countless restraints and magical chains.
In mere hours, he appeared to have aged decades—his eyes devoid of their former vitality.
His cheeks trembled from the shock.

Duke Hooten, the Empire’s Sword.
With a hollow expression, he stared at the white-haired Kale and Crown Prince Alberu within the video communication.

Behind him, Choi Han—his dye magic now dispelled—kept watch over him.

“…Ugh… ugh… ugh!”

With his mouth sealed and unable to speak, Duke Hooten nonetheless unleashed muffled cries and groans.

‘Roan! You Roan bastards orchestrated this from behind! How dare you challenge the Empire’s position!’

His screams could not escape into the world beyond.
His eyes, which had moved beyond frustration into shock, were now stained a bloodshot red.

However, Kale had no reason to care. A good man might feel pangs of conscience, but neither he nor Alberu were the sort of people who led wars and controlled the lives of others—were they not both hands stained with blood?
Those with blood on their hands were all the same.

Creak—
Kale rose from his chair. As he adjusted his priestly robes, Crown Prince Albert waved his hand dismissively.

—Spread some rumors in the Empire. Tell them the Empire suffered a humiliating defeat. Make the people turn their resentment toward the Crown Prince.

Duke Hooten’s entire body trembled violently.
He wondered if such wicked people truly existed.

Then Crown Prince Albert spoke, as if tossing the words aside.

—That’s how we’ll destroy the Alchemy Tower, isn’t it?

Duke Hooten’s body shook as though struck by lightning. He could feel the gazes of both Kale and Alberu fixed upon him.
The white-haired Kale’s calm voice reached his ears.

“Why feign such shock? We know everything, Duke.”

Kale pointed to his white hair and uttered a single phrase.

“White Star.”

The light in Duke Hooten’s eyes shifted from frustration and anger to something else entirely.
It was fear—fear of the unknown, of forces beyond comprehension.

‘How much do they know?’

No—what do they know?
As he looked at Kale and Alberu, his mind went blank.

Yet there was no one to answer his questions.

Click.
Alberu simply finished what he had to say and cut off the video communication, while Kale, preparing to leave, gave an order to Choi Han.

“Lock him up.”

Duke Hooten was dragged down toward the prison, his gaze fixed on Kale Heniatus. The corners of his mouth curled upward with a familiarity that mirrored the serene smile of a holy priest.

Wearing that smile, Kale Heniatus arrived at the Slums of the Mogur Empire Capital.

* * *

Mogur Empire Capital.
Jem, who had been moving to open the vegetable shop’s door since early morning, halted in his tracks at the voices drifting through the air.

“…The Imperial Army lost?”
“The Empire’s Sword was captured as a prisoner? Lost? To that Tunka?”

Jem’s gaze turned toward the alley wall.
Torn papers were visible. Whispers echoed once more.

“I don’t know exactly either. But didn’t you see the posters plastered on the walls last night? Saying the Empire lost.”
“I wasn’t out last night, so I didn’t see them. When I tried to look at dawn, the Capital’s defense soldiers had already torn them all down.”

Last night. Posters had been plastered throughout every alley of the Capital.

【The Great Defeat of the Mogur Empire】

The contents were shocking. And at dawn, soldiers hastily tearing down those posters. The Imperial Palace offering no rebuttal whatsoever.

“…Did we really lose?”
“Who knows.”
“…When did our Mogur Empire start experiencing only calamities like this?”

The morning landscape, which should have been vibrant, was bleak.
No—it was on the verge of explosion.

From the Sun God Church’s terror onward, only misfortunes had befallen the Empire. Unease was beginning to creep into the hearts of the citizens.

Had the Empire’s fortune turned?
Was something catastrophic about to befall the Empire?

“The soldiers are searching for those who posted the notices, aren’t they?”
“They say everyone’s eyes are wild as they search.”

Jem’s mouth pressed shut as he stared at the torn poster.
He quickened his pace.

Before opening the vegetable shop, there was somewhere he needed to go. His footsteps carried him past the commercial district toward the Slums. He glanced around hurriedly.
I spotted several people who resembled me.

Ordinary appearances, slightly worn clothing, all of them hurrying as if heading to work.
And smiling faces.
A smile gradually formed on Jem’s lips as well.

I made my way slowly toward an old but clean house near the entrance of the Slums.

Creak.
I opened the weathered wooden door.

“Oh? Jem! You’ve come?”

A middle-aged woman with a warm impression greeted me cheerfully, grasping my hand. I returned her greeting with unusual gentleness.

“Priestess, I hope you’ve been well?”

The middle-aged woman in white priestly robes handed over a small glass vial with a smile. My lips curved upward, though they trembled slightly.

“Thank you, Priestess. Thank you so much.”

I clutched the bottle containing the potion as if it were precious, my face nearly breaking into tears. With this, my daughter’s cough would ease.

For some time now, a rumor had been spreading quietly through the Slums and among those from the Slums.

‘Healers who treat illnesses have appeared.’

No one knew how the rumor started.
But the rumor was true.
Healers in white priestly robes hid throughout the Capital, distributing potions and providing simple treatments that required no healing magic—all free of charge.

“Such titles burden me, Jem.”
“Priestess, or rather, Healer. I understand.”

They wore priestly robes yet refused to be called priests. There were no religious symbols adorning them either.
Jem was grateful to them. And so, there was only one thing he could do.
The middle-aged woman asked Jem to do exactly that.

“Jem, whenever you encounter people who are suffering and struggling, please let them know about this place.”

How could such kind people exist?
The healers always asked him to introduce those in pain to them.

“Only discreetly, you understand? The Empire has been turbulent lately, and… as you know, people like us face severe discrimination.”
“I understand. I know.”
“Yes, thank you. Jem.”

The middle-aged woman offered a bittersweet smile.

“If we’re driven out, who will heal those who suffer even more?”

With his heart full of compassion for the suffering, Jem’s weary day began overflowing with emotion. He bowed respectfully to the benevolent healer, pushed open the weathered door, and departed.

“Healer, I will be careful to ensure this place remains undiscovered.”
“Yes, thank you. Jem, take care.”

Creak, click.
The weathered door closed.
No one came looking anymore.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

The middle-aged woman turned her head at the voice. A figure descended the stairs from the second floor of the dilapidated house.

“No, sir. It’s simply that doing good deeds fills my heart with satisfaction.”

Kale Heniatus let out a scoff.
He spoke to the woman with a benevolent smile—the assassin Frigia—with casual dismissal.

“From where I stand, it seems you’re brimming with vitality from conducting covert operations for the first time in ages last night.”
“Ha ha ha, surely not.”

Frigia averted her gaze with a slightly awkward expression.
The assassin who had once sculpted a rabbit resembling a hellhound had masterfully mimicked a benevolent priest.

“You used the proclamations quite well too, didn’t you?”

And she had executed her original duties flawlessly as well.
Last night’s proclamations were creations born from Frigia and her subordinates.

‘The Crown Prince must be quite troubled.’

Foreign nations’ perceptions of this defeat would certainly weigh on his mind, though perhaps not as heavily as concerns within the Empire itself. That was why he had attempted to control information about the war as much as possible.

Yet that control crumbled before it could even begin—undone by Kale Heniatus.
Frigia, knowing this well, spoke in a cheerful tone.

“The Crown Prince will need to address the aftermath of this war soon.”

Of course he would have to.
Hadn’t he declared war himself?
Was that all?
There was also the letter sent to Wipper. The moment Wipper revealed it to the entire Western Continent, the Empire would become a laughingstock.

“There are two options. One is to abandon the war and focus on stabilizing the Empire internally.”

Frigia shrugged and continued.

“Or utterly crush Wipper and demonstrate their strength.”
“Obviously the latter.”
“Exactly. Even if the Empire’s sword is broken, their pride remains intact.”

Then how could the Empire utterly destroy Wipper?
How could they reassure their people and unite their wavering hearts?

“The Crown Prince must take the battlefield himself.”
“Indeed.”

Greater impact than Duke Hooten was needed.
It had to be the Crown Prince.

Assassin Frigia continued with evident delight.

“Then the Crown Prince will—”

Creak—
The door opened.
Frigia hastily closed her mouth. But the moment she saw who entered, and the instant he shut the door behind him, she resumed speaking.

“Then the Crown Prince will soon be captured at Maple Castle, won’t he?”

Kale answered Frigia’s question while observing the figure standing before the closed door beyond her shoulder.

“Indeed. He’ll become a rat trapped in a cage.”

And the cat would be the one to catch that rat.
Kale spoke toward the man behind Frigia, whose face was clouded with worry.

“Sir Rex.”
“…Young Master.”
“Do you have something to discuss with me?”

The Cat Tribe Knight Sir Rex had rushed over the moment he heard of Kale’s arrival. He answered the white-haired Kale with a rather solemn tone.

“Yes, I have matters to discuss with you.”
“Follow me.”

Kale headed to the second floor, and soon both he and Rex were seated on the sofa facing each other.

Kale could see Rex’s clenched fists. He appeared quite troubled, with dark shadows beneath his eyes from deep contemplation.
He bit his lips at Kale’s gaze before speaking.

“Young Master Kale.”

Sir Rex remembered the words Kale had once spoken while pointing at him.

‘Sir Rex is the one who will surpass the Emperor and the Crown Prince and ascend to that position.’

Those words had struck Rex with tremendous shock. Simultaneously, they had robbed him of sleep. The contents of the book Kale had given him flooded his mind.

Lordship, administration, imperial governance.
Concepts that Kale had instructed me to study swirled together in my mind.

The Empire seemed to tilt with each minor and major incident. Sir Rex felt that atmosphere acutely.
Because of it, the knowledge I had absorbed seized my thoughts ever more forcefully.

Yet the one who could quell this chaos was far too occupied, and only today could Sir Rex finally see Kale.
His lips parted slowly.

“I lack the qualities to become a king.”
“I know.”

Sir Rex faltered.
The response to his painstakingly offered confession was remarkably simple.

“…And I am a commoner.”

A man who was neither imperial blood nor nobility could never become emperor.

“I know.”

Kale answered with utter composure, as if asking why I would mention something so obvious.
In that moment, Sir Rex found himself speechless. If he knew, then why had he said such things?

“…I may appear just and somewhat clever, but I am small-hearted and easily frightened.”

Kale paused subtly, barely perceptibly.

‘Look at that.’

Kale regarded Sir Rex with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes and spoke.

“Yes. That’s how you appear.”

Sir Rex’s brow furrowed.

“Then why would you-!”

Did you say you would have me sit as Emperor?
Sir Rex’s eyes, unable to even utter the word “Emperor,” fixed upon Kale Heniatus with fierce intensity. They were eyes filled with fear—not the reluctance of one unwilling, but the terror of one overwhelmed by the weight of such a burden.

“Say it backwards.”
“…Pardon?”

Sir Rex hesitated at the words Kale Heniatus tossed at him so casually, then questioned him back. Kale Heniatus spoke once more.

“Say it in reverse.”
“…Say what, sir?”
“That statement: ‘I may appear righteous and somewhat intelligent, but I lack courage and have a small heart.'”

Sir Rex’s mouth closed.
Kale Heniatus smiled at the sight.

Sir Rex was a man who defined himself in profoundly contradictory terms.
Sir Rex, meeting Kale Heniatus’s composed gaze, slowly opened his mouth.

“Though I may appear fearful and small-hearted… I am somewhat intelligent—”

Sir Rex was the one who had escaped the Alchemy Tower undetected despite his cat form, and he was a man who had clawed his way to knighthood despite his origins in the Slums.
Moreover, he was the one who had organized a faction and fearlessly targeted the very heart of the Empire.

It took Sir Rex a long moment before he could finish his words.

“…I am righteous.”
“Exactly. That is who you are, Sir Rex.”

Sir Rex’s expression shifted subtly. Conversely, Kale Heniatus found himself in an unexpectedly peculiar mood.
How many people could speak of themselves as both intelligent and righteous?

‘What an amusing fellow.’

Kale Heniatus lifted his back from the sofa, his expression unreadable. In any case, I had come to the Empire to say what I needed to say.
Naturally, that person was Sir Rex.

“If you do not desire the throne, you may refuse.”

…You don’t have to take down the Emperor?
When Sir Rex’s eyes widened, Kale continued.

“But if the Alchemy Tower crumbles and the Crown Prince falls.”

If what Sir Rex and his faction desire comes to pass.

“The Empire will inevitably collapse. It will be destroyed. It could vanish entirely.”

The sins were grave.
From the Caro Kingdom to the Jungle Kingdom, to Wipper Kingdom—many nations coveted the Empire.
Though the Four Kingdoms One Race Alliance existed with the Roan Kingdom, desire was a fearsome thing.

“…Hmm.”

Sir Rex’s expression darkened. Even by his reckoning, it was the worst possible outcome. So Kale must have assumed it could happen as well.
That was when it occurred.

Slap!

Sir Rex saw documents laid upon the table—papers Kale had presented. The moment Sir Rex’s eyes filled with questions as he read the title, Kale spoke his true purpose.

“The Roan Kingdom makes you a proposal.”

A proposal for Roan to expand its territory without war, while simultaneously granting the Empire time to stand on its own feet without suffering invasion from other nations.

The first page of the documents was a map.
Kale’s finger pointed to one location.

“The Empire’s Northwest Region, and Roan’s Southwest Region.”

In other words, where the Empire and Roan’s borders met.
Kale drew a circle there—a remarkably small circle relative to the vast expanse of land.

“A free city will be established here.”

A free city.
Like Ribensi on the Eastern Continent.

“…A free city?”

When Lex asked in bewilderment at this unexpected proposal, Kale Heniatus answered with a smile.

“Yes. A free city for magic and alchemy.”

Lex’s expression shifted.
Roan’s magic and the Empire’s alchemy. The most renowned powers from each nation.

“The fallen Magic Tower and the Alchemy Tower that will fall.”

Kale Heniatus recalled his conversation with Rosalind.

‘Young master, it would be wonderful to have land. We needed it anyway.’

He spoke, envisioning a new beginning after destruction and collapse.

“Wouldn’t they need new land?”

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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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