Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 348

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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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“How much longer will you be staying here?”

Burd Illis sank onto the deck and turned his gaze to the side.
In his field of vision stood a man as still as a rock.

‘…I never would have thought of this.’

Burd Illis’s expression became peculiar.
The man standing like a rock was Ron Mollan.

And beside Ron Mollan stood another person. The Mercenary King had obtained information about him several days ago.

Kale Heniatus’s most formidable knight.
The youngest Sword Master, Choi Han.

“Since Choi Han is here, shouldn’t the head of the household go inside?”

Burd could see an elderly man with a cold expression devoid of even a speck of kindness opening his mouth.

“Be quiet. You’re being loud.”

Loud, indeed.
The Mercenary King let out a quiet laugh.
The deck was silent.

It was far too quiet.
In such stillness, Burd’s soft voice could hardly be called loud at all.

Yet Burd readily closed his mouth as Ron had instructed. Gren Puff, his friend the Mage, gave him a meaningful look.

‘Should we just leave it?’

Burd opened his mouth at that glance.

“Wind Island.”

Wind Island’s Forbidden Zone.
A place shrouded by howling winds so fierce that nothing of the island’s interior could be seen.
An island that granted access to no one.

Yet people knew how life withered away on this island.
The reason was simple.

“On Wind Island, any corpse whose life has ended will inevitably be carried by the wind and revealed beyond the island’s shores.”

On the boat where not a single breath could be heard.
Burd Illis closed his eyes.

Whiiiiish— whiiiish—
The sound of wind reached his ears.

One week.
Burd Illis recalled the past seven days.

The first three days had been relatively peaceful. But as the fourth and fifth days arrived, his group began to grow restless.

‘Why, why isn’t the human coming out?’
‘Something’s wrong!’
‘Something’s very, very wrong! Extremely wrong!’

The children’s unceasing voices echoed through Burd Illis’s mind.
And now, on the seventh night after the sixth day had passed.

Burd Illis lifted his head.
The Southern Sea of Eastern Continent, where Wind Island and its neighboring Twin Island lay. This place, shrouded in fog for more than 360 days of the year.

For the first time in ages, Burd Illis could see his homeland’s night sky clearly. Though it was a new moon, the stars shone beautifully.

‘…It seems I’ve made quite an extraordinary friend.’

The friend himself was extraordinary, but his companions seemed even more so.

The sixth day.
Those who had been voicing their concerns, at a loss for words, or whose speech had begun to fade, finally started to move.

Wind Island and the Twin Island beside it. Only the night sky around them was clearly visible.
The mist that had enveloped those two islands and the surrounding sea had vanished.

“…Remarkable.”

The Silver Cat had driven away the mist surrounding the island.
The Black Dragon beside her conjured wind to aid in the effort.

The Black Dragon, the Silver Cat, and the Red Cat were gazing down at Wind Island from the night sky.

Whoooosh— Whoooooosh—
Wind Island remained shrouded in wind, its interior still invisible despite their efforts.

‘I’m the great Raon Mir, so I’m fine! You wouldn’t know, but I’ve lived six years as a dragon! More than half of that in hardship! This isn’t hardship at all! Don’t stop me! I’ll destroy it all!’
‘I eat well, rest well, and I’m just cutting back on sleep to wait! Compared to when I was with my sister, this is nothing!’
‘…Please don’t stop me.’

I’d heard they were young, but these children’s stubbornness was something else.
Of course, when Ron and Vicross spoke, all three of them ate without complaint and went to sleep.

“…It’s blinding.”

Burd’s eyes stung.
Unlike the faint starlight above, the countless platinum-hued mana orbs enveloping the sea and surrounding the island were dazzling.
The pale-faced Gold Dragon stood with arms crossed, sleepless and silent, illuminating the surroundings with platinum-hued mana orbs.

‘We may not be able to see inside because of the wind, but couldn’t those inside the island see this light and come out?’

The Ancient Dragon’s hand, speaking in that blunt manner, repeatedly clenched and unclenched, unable to remain still for even a moment.
Burd swallowed a sigh.

‘Not yet.’

The seventh night.
Still no corpses had emerged from Wind Island.
Had there been any, Burd would have smelled them before anyone else.

“…Not yet.”

One week had passed.
Kale Heniatus.
He had not shown himself beyond the island.

“Still… alive.”

At his hoarse voice, Choi Han, Ron, and Vicross fingered their weapons while keeping their eyes fixed on the island.
One week had passed. Despite the absence of any contact, Kale Heniatus—he was still alive.

And he had not fired a signal flare.
A signal flare that would ignite with merely a light snap of the fingers or the utterance of an activation word. Yet he had not sent any distress signal.

Above all, there was a reason his companions could not easily infiltrate the island.

“…The wind is weakening again.”

Whoooosh— Whiiing—
Though still fierce, the wind enveloping Wind Island was gradually diminishing.
And Burd’s mouth opened.

“There’s a scent of wind attribute. A very strong one.”

Burd gazed down at his own arm.
Goosebumps covered it.

A scent emanated from the island where the wind was weakening.
It was similar yet different from the scent of the wind attribute Ancient Power that Burd possessed.

And that power was growing stronger with each passing moment.

“Kale is doing something.”

Wind Island.
The Third Forbidden Zone.
The place was transforming, and the scent of wind that Kale carried was becoming increasingly palpable.
Because of this, they understood that Kale was still safe, and moreover, that they must not act rashly.

Then, Ron’s voice rang out.

“But in just a few days, it will be two days since our provisions ran out.”

His voice was parched.
His son Vicross offered him a water bottle. Ron moistened his mouth with water.

The servant Ron had prudently stored five days’ worth of provisions in Kale Heniatus’s spatial pocket. Yet no matter how carefully they rationed, the limit would soon arrive.

The Elderly Man gazed at the island as he spoke.

“Young master has always been a handful.”

That troublesome young master. Indeed, he had always given me headaches.

Ron does not know what Kale Heniatus is doing.
He does not know the situation within that island either.
Yet an island shrouded in dead mana, a place with nothing to eat.

“Tomorrow at noon, twelve o’clock.”

He cannot be left alone there any longer than that.
This was the opinion the Ancient Dragon Erhafen had argued most forcefully.
Once tomorrow at noon passes.

“Then—”

Someone continued after Ron.
The one who had spoken the least all week long.
Choi Han. He spoke.

“We will eliminate all those winds.”

The Mercenary King asked without thinking.

“Is that even possible?”

In that moment, Burd’s eyes met Choi Han’s.

“It is possible. Without fail.”

Choi Han adjusted his sword. Burd looked past him. He could see Erhaben and the children. At any moment, that platinum-colored sphere seemed as though it would shatter the winds.

Burd crossed his arms and leaned his back against the ship’s railing.

“We’ll have to make it through this night first.”

Silence descended once more.
Everyone stared at Wind Island, holding their breath.
One week. Kale’s absence had created a suffocating silence.

* * *

One week earlier.
When I had slipped through the narrow gap and entered Wind Island.

“It’s pitch black.”

I could see rough terrain and a mountain piercing the sky between the whirlwinds raging in all directions.
The mountain was also composed of sheer cliffs that seemed carved by a blade.

‘…Dead mana.’

Everything was stained black.
I gathered wind at my feet.

‘Friend, you can’t let your bare feet or hands touch the ground. You could become addicted to the dead mana.’
‘And you already know this, right? Don’t eat the soil or rocks there. Even if they enter your mouth, you could become addicted.’

I ignored the Mercenary King Burd Illis’s nonsense.

-Lonely, isn’t it?

I ignored Cale’s Power’s question, spoken in a subtle and eerie voice.
Instead, I slowly advanced forward, using the Voice of Wind.

‘When first entering the island, I just need to take three steps in the one o’clock direction.’

I moved forward, recalling the explanation Burd Illis had given while unfolding a map the night before.

‘I must never extinguish the power of wind.’
‘My friend, and make sure you look at the map as you go. We can’t have you getting confused.’

Kale Heniatus walked forward with an expressionless face, slowly but without hesitation, despite having no map.

Whoooosh— Whoooosh—
The wind was incredibly fierce. Yet, following Burd’s directions precisely, gaps in the wind mysteriously appeared.
Minuscule gaps.

“Fascinating.”

The moment the words escaped Kale’s lips unbidden.

-Of course. My friend is capable of noticing gaps like this.

Huh?
Kale paused at the sound of the Thief’s voice.

“Friend?”

The Thief spoke with amusement in her voice.

-The master of the power that belongs to the child who showed you the way is my friend.

Kale Heniatus recalled the Mercenary King Burd Illis.
His clan had established their territory beside Wind Island and left behind a will instructing his family members to serve as guardians of Wind Island for generations to come.
Moreover, the power of wind that Burd Illis possessed belonged to that ancestor.

-That fellow was also a thief.

Ha.
Kale was at a loss for words.

-So the connection between friends has been renewed. How truly remarkable.

Kale found it remarkable as well, so he nodded at the Thief’s words and quickened his pace slightly. It felt as though nothing could shake him now.

‘My friend, there’s a large boulder beneath the mountain at the center of the island. There should be a deep sword mark left upon it.’

Whiiish— Whiiish—
I entrusted myself to the Wind’s Sound, who shielded me from the gale that engulfed the island, and quickened my pace.

‘It won’t take long to reach the rocks at the base of the mountain. With the Wind’s power, we’ll get there in an hour.’

Burd Illis spoke with a grave expression.

‘But the temple entrance beside those rocks, the one that will open toward you. Getting in and out of there typically takes two days.’

My steps halted after traveling for some time. I hung suspended in the air, staring at one spot.

A massive boulder appeared—the only one not blackened.
The rock Burd had mentioned.
Deep and enormous sword marks were carved into its surface.

I approached the boulder and placed my palm against it.

‘The moment you press your palm to the rock, if you possess an Ancient Power of wind attribute, that boulder will answer your call.’

Uuuung— Uuuung—
A vibration different from the wind’s sound resonated. I watched as the boulder slowly slid aside.
Black Mountain.
Where the boulder had been.

“…A temple.”

An entrance resembling an ancient temple, with black marble pillars standing on both sides, appeared before my eyes.
The passage within was dark, its end invisible.
Yet it appeared profoundly deep.

‘Friend, once you step into the temple, you won’t need to use the Wind’s power anymore. There, you won’t need to worry about dead mana poisoning.’

Tap.
I descended to the temple entrance.

“Hagh.”

And my body staggered.
It happened in an instant. I barely steadied myself by gripping one of the temple pillars.

“…Haah.”

I exhaled deeply.
I placed my hand over my heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart was pounding.
I stared at the marble column. It was black, but not marble corrupted by dead mana.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
I couldn’t control my racing heart. My face contorted more and more.
That was when The Thief’s voice echoed in my mind as I gazed into the endless temple.

-And you know what.

At the same time, Burd’s voice came to mind.

‘If you reach the end of that passage, there will be an artifact on the altar. You can use that.’

My mouth opened.

“…An artifact? Here? But why?”

My pupils trembled. I was bewildered.

Haah.
The moment I breathed in deeply and then exhaled.

-This Wind Island was created because of me.

What?
Wind Island was created because of The Thief? Because of Voice of Wind?
From the moment I heard the story from the Mercenary King, I had already suspected some connection between The Thief and this island.
As I leaned against the marble column, The Thief whispered softly.

-In there. In the deepest part of this island, shall I tell you the truth about the artifact you’re looking for? And the secret of this island?

There was laughter in The Thief’s voice.
But it was not the laughter of joy. It carried a profound sorrow within it.

-That relic was created through the sacrifice of tens of thousands of people.

Sacrifice? People?
Suddenly, I recalled the first time I met The Thief, and what she had said back then.

‘Those damned bastards!’
‘What crime is there in stealing something they made by sacrificing people? They said they’d return it to the people? Garbage! Why do such things possess power?!’

The Thief, who stole a divine artifact and was said to have been caught and executed. But what she had stolen was not a divine object—it was something from the Temple.
Her calm voice echoed in my mind.

-And I returned that relic to its rightful place.

I lifted my head.
A black ceiling came into view.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart races.
Destructive Fire rages within me.

The rightful place where the relic should be.

-That place was, of course, where the traces of those who died unjustly remained.

My mouth opened.
But no words came out. Instead, as if The Thief understood my heart, she continued speaking.

-You’re starting to understand the secret of this island, aren’t you? Can you feel it? This Black Mountain. This mountain hidden away so carefully by the wind.

Destructive Fire rages.
The Thief spoke matter-of-factly.

-Can you feel the dead mana that fills the inside of this mountain?

The Thief spoke with sorrow.

-This place was once—no, in ancient times—a repository of dead mana.

Kale Heniatus closed his eyes.
Whether his eyes were open or closed made no difference—darkness enveloped him either way.

-And I left my spinning top here and asked my friends to protect it.

The Thief’s voice was thick with anguish.

-I asked them to guard this place where the last traces of my family, my acquaintances, and my neighbors remained, and to keep others away from it.

The Thief had made a plea to those friends who had become her eyes and her feet.
Please protect this place.
And at the same time, let no one else come here.
Let no one discover the truth of this island.

The Thief spoke, her anguish barely contained.

-Because I could make them flee from dead mana, but I couldn’t erase it.

Kale heard the voice of Destructive Fire, his power.

-If I had been alive back then.

The voice was filled with regret.
Destructive Fire, capable of purifying dead mana.
In this moment, Kale realized that Destructive Fire had died before The Thief.

-And after I left my spinning top here and fled, I was captured while running. Time passed, and then I met you.

Had she been her original self, she would never have been captured.
But by creating Wind Island, she had lost more than half her power, and in the end, she was captured. Bound to a rock, she had to sink into the depths of the sea.

Kale opened his eyes.
The black ceiling of the Temple entrance came into view.

-Terrible, isn’t it? The secret of this island?

The Forbidden Wind Island of the Third Generation.
At The Thief’s hollow laughter, Kale finally spoke after a long silence.

“Who on earth are they?”

I had been curious about this for some time.
Now that I had decided to take this difficult path, now that I had resolved to carry the Ancient Powers with me, I needed to know their story.

“Who were the ones you had to fight?”

Black Mountain.
My voice, the only living presence on this island, scattered through 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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