Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 364

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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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“Are you planning to throw a magic bomb?”

Ron stared at the person who had posed the question to him. A stranger. Yet Ron answered him kindly.

“The First Mercenary Guild Branch and the Personnel Registry Storage will disappear from this world today.”

And immediately, Ron stepped back one pace.

Boom!

The sound of the rooftop shattering echoed through the air.

“You’ve grown.”
“Ugh!”

Crock furrowed his brow as he watched Ron effortlessly dodge his sudden assault with a single step backward, then offer praise. But his greatsword immediately turned toward Ron.

“Archers, aim for the arms of Ron Mollan and Vicross Mollan! There will be an allied Mage nearby! Find them at once!”

Crock barked out his command at the top of his voice.

“Yes!”
“Yes, sir!”

True to their reputation as elite mercenaries, the archers drew their bowstrings in an instant. Yet they did not move rashly.

“Only control their movements!”

They could not afford to carelessly release their arrows and trigger the magic bomb, nor could they afford to give the enemy a sense of urgency.
Simultaneously, the Mercenary Guild Mages began searching the surroundings.
Ordinary magic bombs required a Mage nearby to detonate them.

“…We withdraw.”
“Squad leader?”
“We withdraw. Don’t make me say it again.”

And Aturess Perf, the leader of Dark Squad 2, chose to retreat.
He spoke coldly as he observed the questioning gazes of his squad members directed at me.

“Do not forget our primary objective.”

The primary objective.
Find the whereabouts of the Mercenary King.
I had to locate traces of the Mercenary King who had vanished from the Free City Libensi.

The squad members immediately began to move backward in response to their leader’s command.

“Who said you could?”

At that moment, they saw a man with a greatsword strapped to his back looking down at them with a grin. Vicross stood there smiling with one corner of his mouth raised, his arms full of magical bombs.

Vicross’s gaze as he looked down upon the members of Dark Squad 2 was frigid.
It could not have been otherwise.

Fifteen years ago.
Back when he could still be called a boy. Then he remembered the burning house, the dying family members, and his mother standing before him, wielding her sword.

Father Ron Mollan’s rage was immense, but Vicross was not without anger in his heart either.
No—it was greater.

Because of that, the boy who had been told he resembled his mother more had lost his smile, and had to become an adult with a cold impression like his father.

He recalled a certain moment.
When he was staying at the Jjangdol Mansion, Choi Han had come to find him in the Garden behind the Kitchen and said something to him.

‘You seem to have more talent in concealment techniques and throwing blades than in greatswords.’

Then Choi Han casually tossed a throwing blade to Vicross.

Vicross ignored the words of that arrogant bastard who referred to himself as “you” and threw the throwing blade he held toward a wooden target. The blade embedded itself precisely in the center, striking the target dead-on.
Vicross looked at it and answered.

‘Mind your own business.’

There was no other way to answer.
He still remembered it vividly.
The family consumed by hellfire.
That moment when the flames seemed to burn even higher with the screams of dying retainers.

‘Vicross, wait. Father will be here soon.’

Vicross, still small and underdeveloped in stature.
He could never forget the greatsword held in his mother’s hands as she stood before him. And Father had wanted Vicross to wield a greatsword too.

Most importantly, Vicross himself had chosen the greatsword.
He understood his own strengths well. He possessed talent in torture techniques and stealth arts.
Watching Father act beside him, he thought, ‘With just a little practice, I could probably do it too.’

In this current situation where Kale Heniatus and his companions were growing at an accelerated pace. Even with a Sword Master and an advanced Mage, a Necromancer appearing, Vicross’s growth lagged behind theirs. It would likely be difficult to reach Sword Master level with greatsword mastery.

It wasn’t because he had focused on cooking.
He had reached the limits of what he could achieve with the greatsword, yet he could not abandon it.

“Vicross Mollan.”

Vicross saw Aturess Perf, the Dark commander, glaring at him. He felt countless gazes directed toward him.
He took a step forward.
In that moment, his father’s voice reached his ears.

“Begin.”

That was all he needed to hear.

“No!”

Upon hearing Ron’s words, Commander Crock rushed at him at maximum speed.
But Ron had already launched himself into the air.

And Vicross drew his greatsword.

Clang!

A massive sword gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight.
Yet no one could keep their eyes on Vicross’s blade.

“What—what in the world!”

Two hands gripping the greatsword.
The objects that had been in Vicross’s hands before he seized the blade shot skyward into the air.

Magic bombs soared high into the heavens.

“Quick, catch them!”
“Dodge! You have to avoid the bombs!”

Just before the situation could descend into absolute chaos.
In that critical moment.

Vicross pushed off the rooftop and launched himself into the air, his greatsword beginning to trace a massive arc.
In that instant, Captain Crock and Sergeant Aturess Perf came into Vicross’s view.

Crock’s face twisted in alarm, while Aturess Perf’s eyes widened in shock.
Vicross grinned as he swung his greatsword.

“No, this can’t be!”

Someone’s scream pierced the air.

Boom!
The flat of the greatsword struck the side of a magic bomb.

Crack!
It was not just once.

Boom! Boom!
The greatsword traced several more massive arcs, striking the magic bombs repeatedly.
And with each impact, the magic bombs trembled and were hurled in a single direction.

“This… this can’t be happening!”

The mercenary clutched his head.

Boom! Boom!
The magical bombs struck with tremendous force, their deafening impact reverberating through the air.
The location was inside the collapsed pit where the First Mercenary Guild Branch once stood.

“I should move mine as well.”

Thud. Thunk.
The magical bombs in Ron’s hands gently fell into the pit below.
In that moment, Ron descended to another rooftop and spread both his hands wide.

“Now then.”

Clap!
The instant his hands came together, Ron spoke in a soft voice.

“Detonate.”

The end of his affectionate command.

Kaboom—!

People covered their ears and pressed themselves flat against the ground.

Kaboom! Kaboom!
The explosions erupted without cessation.
Those lying prone on the ground trembled uncontrollably from the tremendous shockwaves rippling through their bodies.
As the sound faded and they lifted their heads, a colossal pillar of fire came into view.

“…Ah.”

It rose skyward.
From the collapsed pit of the Underground Space—the repository of the Eastern Continent’s greatest and most comprehensive records—a towering inferno erupted toward the heavens.

It was a brilliant crimson blaze that seemed poised to incinerate everything in its path.
Several people turned their heads.
They had heard Ron’s voice.

“Now the records, the history—it has all vanished.”

The Mercenaries, Dark, and even the citizens hiding in the shadows—all of them gasped in shock.
Everyone was unable to suppress their astonishment at those words.

Those words meant that the Personnel Registry was burning together with that inferno.

Somehow, Ron, who had been beside Vicross, now held a teleportation magic scroll in his hand.

“Stop him! You must stop him at all costs!”

Captain Crock sprang to his feet and rushed toward the Molan father and son. The mercenaries who had regained their senses charged forward, venting their fury.
Even as he did, he shouted.

“Mages! Extinguish the fire immediately!”

Shouting urgently, he raised his greatsword to throw it at Ron.
But in that moment, he hesitated, and ultimately the greatsword was hurled not at Ron, but at the space directly in front of him.

“Still the same.”

In that instant, Crock saw Ron looking back at him with a cold smile, completely tearing apart the scroll.

Skreeeech!
As the scroll tore, the Molan father and son’s bodies gradually became transparent.

Boom!
And Crock’s greatsword embedded itself one step ahead of Ron.

“Damn it!”

Crock stopped his charge and collapsed to his knees. Then he struck the ground with his fist.

They vanished.
Ron and Vicross—the two of them teleported away in an instant.
Crock’s face twisted in anguish.

Fifteen years.
To encounter such a horrific situation after a full fifteen years!
Yet as he heard the Mage’s subsequent report, he could not hide the trembling in his eyes.

“Commander! I can’t use water magic!”
“What are you talking about? We need to extinguish the flames! If we don’t, everything will be destroyed!”

Crock raised his voice to urge the Mage forward, but the sight behind the Mage’s back made him clamp his mouth shut.

“What… what is that?”

Only then could he take in his surroundings.

A massive explosion had occurred.
It was a magical bomb that carried a shockwave powerful enough to level the outer edges of the Free City.
Based on the sound alone, it was certainly of that magnitude.

Yet everything remained intact.
There were no foundations crumbling from the tremors, no Residential Districts engulfed in flames.
There were no structures collapsed from the explosion.

Everything was exactly as it had been.

“Commander. It’s a protective barrier—a shield.”

A massive white shield was visible.
The shield was not protecting the people.

“Because of that shield, we cannot extinguish the fire. We have no choice but to wait for it to burn out naturally.”

The shield enveloped a colossal pillar of flame.
It prevented the inferno from escaping outward and made it impossible for anyone to artificially extinguish the blaze.

One of the mercenaries, witnessing this entire situation, opened his mouth.

“…A thousand years of records have been destroyed. All… all burned away.”

Simultaneously, his face contorted as he muttered.

“…The Molan Family.”

A forgotten name emerged into the world once more.
Its appearance was far more dramatic and destructive than any organization could ever be.

Dark and the Mercenary Guild.
Those assigned as messengers among them moved swiftly and discreetly first. They would soon return to their respective branches and report the current situation.
And the same was true for the others who had been watching.

“Heh, well. This situation is unfolding in a strange way. Dark, the Mercenary Guild, and the Molan Family.”

The minds of countless people murmuring and shifting their positions were working frantically.
An unintended force. It was a situation where a new power faction might emerge.

“Hey, should we report this to the Royal Court?”
“We should! The first one from the Assassination Family who suffered at Dark’s hands has returned! Like this. Do you understand what this means?”

In particular, an informant from a nearby Royal Family brought his ear close to his colleague’s urgent yet hushed voice.
To him, his colleague spoke urgently.

“It’s the beginning! There must be survivors among the Five Great Families. Or those who suffered at Dark’s hands! They might emerge! The Molan Family revealed their power and showed themselves to the world.”

His expression as he spoke was distorted.

“Hey, the Molan Family originally only appeared at night. They revealed themselves in daylight, in the open. Don’t you understand the meaning of that?”

He knew about Ron Mollan.

“At minimum, Ron Mollan has finished his preparations enough to touch the Mercenary Guild, enough to openly call for a fight.”

The Mercenary Guild.
Though currently contending with Dark for supremacy, it remained a military force that rivaled the top powers on the Eastern Continent.

“Would one or two people step forward like that? Surely, surely the Molan Family must command at least hundreds, thousands of forces.”

Of course, Ron commanded only a few bandits that Kale had assigned to work at the inn, but these people didn’t know that.
A small, sharp blade. Those who couldn’t identify its true nature were busily speculating that it was simply an immense power they couldn’t comprehend.

“…This is truly a grave matter.”

The serious-faced informants scattered in all directions.
And soon, news of the Molan Family’s revival reached the ears of the powerful figures and strong ones on the Eastern Continent.
As a bonus, the news that the Mercenary Guild’s Personnel Registry had disappeared also spread among the people of the Eastern Continent.

* * *

A brilliant flash of light erupted.
Kale Heniatus arrived at a location bathed in radiant brilliance.

“We’ve arrived safely.”

Only then, hearing the Ancient Dragon’s voice, did he survey his surroundings.

“Human! Everything here is white!”
“It looks like a desert! The ground is covered entirely in white grains!”
“Those trees over there are white! Everything is white! And it’s so cold!”

Pitter, patter.
Kale lifted his head.
White snow fell, touching his cheeks.

The ground was blanketed with white granules like desert sand. And white snow was falling upon it.
Scattered throughout, white trees grew in patches.

This impossible space.
A space where the laws of nature seemed to have vanished.

“Kale.”

He turned his gaze toward the Ancient Dragon Erhafen.
Kale Heniatus and his companions—Ron and Vicross—had teleported from the First Mercenary Guild Branch to this entirely different location.

The Ancient Dragon pointed behind his back as he spoke.

“This is where the Castle of Light stands.”

A space where everything was white.

“The coldest place on the Eastern Continent.”

The Castle of Light—one of the Three Great Forbidden Zones.
And.

—You’ve arrived.

A voice resonated within Kale Heniatus’s mind—that of a terrifying presence.
It was Jjangdol.

—That child.

The child Jjangdol spoke of was one he had protected—the First Dragon Slayer.

—That child surely built a village here.

The First Dragon Slayer.
The village he created.
That was when it happened.

“Ugh!”

Kale suddenly doubled over, his waist bending forward.

“Human!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Lord Kale!”

He raised his hand toward the approaching group, signaling that he was fine, then moved his other hand.
And finally.

Whooooom—

A white crown materialized in his palm.
An artifact once possessed by the Dragon Slayer.
A crown that coveted dragon’s blood.

The white crown resonated violently.

Burst!

Simultaneously, white light cleaved through the air.
Light flowing forth from the crown.

That light became a single line, pointing in one direction.

Kale Heniatus observed the beam of light before turning his gaze. As his eyes met the Ancient Dragon’s, he opened his mouth.

“Let’s go.”

The Dragon Slayer.
The village he had created.
For some reason, it felt as though following this light would lead them to that village.

And so Kale and his party were momentarily captivated by that light, failing to hear the soft murmuring voice.

“…Something’s strange. Something’s strange.”

Raon was continuously glancing around, tilting his head in confusion.
The small dragon, murmuring softly, wrinkled his nose and tapped his own heart with his small, round front paw.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
Raon’s heart was pounding strangely hard.

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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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