Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 504

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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 111. It’s Possible!

Northern Eastern Continent.
A mountain range stood as a barrier against the biting cold air descending from the frozen northern reaches, where ice reigned year-round.

“…Damn it.”

Crude words spilled unbidden from the Mercenary King’s lips as he climbed the tallest and most massive mountain of the range.

Once he crossed this mountain, the White Star’s Second Secret Base would come into view.
Yet why did each step feel so agonizingly slow?

Burd Illis ascended the mountain with movements that felt painfully sluggish to his own perception.
Then an Elf beside him approached and spoke.

“Please be patient.”
“…I must endure it, but this frustration is unbearable.”

That was when it happened.

Whoooosh—
A gust of wind swept past him.

Both Burd and the Elf beside him froze.
The wind that arrived halted beside the Elf.

“Thirty-first report.”

Whiiiiing—
The Wind Spirit, bound by contract to the Elf, delivered news. The Elf then relayed the message directly to Burd.

“Western Commander Soros. No anomalies detected. No lifeforms found.”

The Elf raised a hand.
Rustle. Rustle.
Leaves scattered into the air. Burd’s gaze remained fixed ahead.
In this region not yet buried beneath snow, trees grew thick and verdant.
From that forest, dozens of pairs of eyes appeared scattered throughout, watching Burd intently.

Blink.
In the moment both eyelids fluttered shut and open.
The Elf beside Burd Illis opened his mouth.

“There is nothing amiss.”

As they crossed the Northern Mountain, the Elves ascended alongside spirits, circling the mountain from east to west.
Simultaneously, they searched for traces of the 1,001 Ranger Unit while hunting for signs of enemies.

“Sigh.”

A sigh escaped Burd Illis unbidden.

‘Slow. Far too slow.’

No, that wasn’t quite right.
In truth, they weren’t slow at all.

They had already reached the midpoint of the mountain the Ranger Unit had climbed.
A little further, and they would arrive at the location presumed to be where the Ranger Unit’s communications ceased.

Yet to Burd Illis, each step felt as sluggish as a tortoise.
Tap. Tap.
He drummed his chest, his anxiety mounting.

Had they relied on searchers dispatched from the Mercenary Guild, it might have taken months.
Of course, if they stormed directly into Alchemy’s Second Secret Base, there would be no need for such delay.

But 1,001 soldiers vanished in an instant.
I needed to understand why.
Only then could I save them.

Yet the more time spent searching, the lower the probability that the Ranger Unit members remained alive seemed to become, filling me with dread.
Impatience gnawed at me.

‘…Gren will arrive in the Northern Region soon.’

Gren Puff, Burd Illis’s close friend and the Mercenary Guild’s elite-tier mage of the highest caliber.
He would soon gather only the Mercenary Guild’s finest warriors beneath this Mountain at the Mercenary King’s command, waiting for the moment to rescue their comrades and exact their vengeance.
Some might find it laughable that mercenaries would move for their comrades, yet even they possessed a bond of brotherhood forged in battle.
Moreover, the guild’s elite dreamed of the Mercenary Guild’s future through the Ranger Unit that the Mercenary King had established.
Thus, they could not simply remain idle.

The Mercenary King needed to send them some kind of message.
Yet, strangely enough.

‘There’s nothing.’

Nothing at all.
Despite climbing halfway up the Mountain, he had found no trace of anything.

Was such a thing even possible?

“Mercenary King, I will report to the eastern search party that all is clear.”

At the Elf’s words, Burd Illis opened his mouth. He needed to relay their situation to the eastern team as well.
Burd Illis spoke with a weary expression, already exhausted from his thirty-first report.

“Yes. There’s nothing anyway, just the sounds of wild beasts—”

…Wait?
Burd Illis’s eyes widened.

“…Mercenary King?”
“Wait a moment!”

He raised his hand to silence the Elf and surveyed their surroundings. Though morning had given way to afternoon, the towering trees kept the ground shrouded in darkness.
Burd Illis gazed into that shadowed forest and slowly opened his mouth.

“…Have you actually seen any wild beasts?”
“What? Wild beasts—I’ve heard plenty of sounds—!”

The Elf trailed off, his eyes widening.

“Quiet! Speak more softly!”

Bud whispered in a low but firm tone directly into the Elf’s ear.
The Elf opened his mouth in response, speaking quietly as well. He too had grasped what Bud was saying.

“…You’ve never actually seen a mountain beast.”

Those conducting searches grew most tense and vigilant precisely when silence fell—when no sounds could be heard.

No matter how normal the snow-covered peak appeared, as long as a forest existed here, some form of life would inevitably dwell within it.
From small herbivores to fierce predators, they would establish their territories and create their own rules of survival.

The Elves, Bud, and the spirits had heard various animal calls—creatures presumed to inhabit this place.
So they had assumed something was indeed present.
Bud’s eyes dimmed. He muttered very quietly.

“I was mistaken.”

Yes, a mistake.

“We haven’t seen a single animal.”
“Mercenary King—”

Bud turned and gripped the Elf’s shoulder.

“Send word to the Western Region immediately. Now.”

Unlike his hand gripping the Elf’s shoulder, his eyes scanned the surroundings ceaselessly.

“We’re retreating.”
“Pardon?”
“Quiet.”

Bud silenced the Elf, whose voice was rising. The Elf stared at him in confusion—wasn’t this the same man who had been frustrated by their slow search pace just moments ago?
Wasn’t it just a moment ago that you were frustrated about how slow the search was going?

“Mercenary King, but retreating—”
“Now!”

Bud’s eyes flashed with intensity.

“I have never seen anything alive and moving on this mountain except for us.”

The Elf’s complexion turned ashen.
Nothing alive and moving except for us.
Not even insects.
Only sounds.

Focused on finding the search party, I had taken comfort in hearing only sounds.
‘Visible targets’ mattered too.

“Immediately! I must report this at once!”
“Shh.”

Burd silenced the Elf’s mouth again.
Whiiiii—
In that moment, the Elf felt the wind enveloping Burd’s surroundings. Without realizing it, his brow furrowed. The wind lingering beside Burd was not what the Elf normally sensed.
It was neither the Wind Spirit’s breath nor natural wind.

It was an Ancient Power.
Burd was now wielding an Ancient Power.

His Ancient Power possessed a wind attribute, allowing him to smell the aura and abilities of people, or hear them through sound.
He was using it now.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Burd’s heart pounded.

Please be wrong.
Let my suspicion be mistaken.

His mind was now filled with information about the battles he had fought against the White Star.

“Ah….”

Burd exhaled a sigh.

“…I smell it.”

Nothing is visible.
Yet the scent of a person, the scent of their abilities, reaches me.

Not just one or two.
The scent of countless people filled the air.
Yet all I could see before my eyes were Elves.

But the Ancient Powers do not lie.

No people were visible.
Then what Burd saw before him now had to be ‘false’.

“…Heh.”

So there wasn’t just one Illusionist?
I released the grip of my hand that had been resting on the Elf’s shoulder.
And I opened my mouth.

“I announce to all search party members.”

I continued speaking while staring ahead.

“Retreat immediately.”

The sharp blade sang as it left my scabbard.
Simultaneously, a blue aura surged upward.
At the same time, a blue aura surged upward.

And prepare for attacks from enemies you cannot see.

And dozens of pairs of eyes that had been watching me widened or wavered.
And dozens of pairs of eyes that had been watching Bud widened or wavered.

An invisible enemy.

“The numbers are at least in the hundreds.”

And those who bore such scents were typically—
And those who possess this kind of scent are usually—

“He is presumed to be an assassin.”

Rustle.
In that instant, one of those who had been holding their breath—not allies—moved.

Crack, crack, crack—
Burd Illis saw his vision shatter like glass. Then he saw an assassin dressed in Dark agent clothing rushing toward him.

“Die!”

The assassin hurled a short blade at Burd Illis. He swung his sword and glared at the figure in black.
Clang, clang!
Two short blades bounced off the aura and scattered, and Burd Illis raised his voice.

“So you’ve become dogs of the White Star!”

The short blade technique of the one who attacked Burd Illis was familiar to his eyes.

Gren Puff.
He was a supreme-class Mage and a member of the Puff Family, once one of the greatest families of the Eastern Continent’s Underworld. He had once witnessed the family’s short blade technique that Gren Puff had displayed.
That same technique was unfolding before his eyes now.

Whoosh—
The vision shattered.
No, the illusion broke.

Then the true reality came into view.

“Ha!”

Hundreds of assassins in black night clothes scattered throughout the Forest.
While some assassins had gone to the resurrected Molan Family, many had fallen under Dark and the White Star.
And during the fifteen-odd years that Dark had grown, those assassins had cultivated yet more subordinates to strengthen their forces.

They had been hiding in the illusion, waiting for them.

“…These bastards—”

Fury ignited in Burd Illis’s eyes.

The forest was drenched in blood.
The scent of blood had faded, but patches of crimson stained the forest floor.
Whose blood was it?
He thought of his subordinates, and suppressing the rage that surged within him, he shouted.

“Retreat!”

Only then did the Elves startle and begin to fall back.
Why?

“How many people did you bury here?!”

Hundreds of assassins stood before his eyes, and their numbers only continued to grow.
If this was the case, an enormous force must be scattered across the entire mountain.
The Elves frowned as they attempted to retreat.

“Damn!”

Assassins appeared from the rear as well.
No—they were Dark agents.

“Ha!”

Burd Illis laughed despite his exasperation.
He realized where these numbers had come from.

“…They’ve gathered every operative from Dark’s branches across the Eastern Continent.”

Though they had destroyed one of Dark’s secret bases and the Molan Family had taken its place, numerous Dark branches still existed throughout the Eastern Continent—fewer than the Mercenary Guild, but still substantial.
These numbers must be the assembled members of those branches.

“Mercenary King! We cannot retreat under these circumstances!”

A panicked Elf’s voice reached him. It was inevitable. If the Elves scattered across this mountain numbered only a few hundred, then these forces blanketing the entire mountain could number in the thousands.
And there was a high probability that all of their side’s movements so far had been exposed to the enemy.

He drew a sharp breath.
Burd Illis inhaled deeply.
He closed his eyes, then opened them.

His gaze turned toward the Mountain Peak.
A scent emanated from that place, blanketed in white snow.

A strange odor unlike assassination—one he had never encountered before.
It had to be the Illusionist.
If not, then at least whoever orchestrated this operation, whoever devised the strategy.

“Follow my lead. We break through.”

Burd Illis kicked off the ground and surged forward. Simultaneously, Assassins rushed toward him.
The Elves drew their weapons in kind, and the Spirits moved alongside them.
Burd shouted to the Elf beside him.

“Fire a signal into the sky at once! And—”

A signal flares upward so Gren below the Mountain can see it.
And—
Burd hesitated before speaking.

“And we must inform Kale Heniatus of the current situation.”

His gaze fixed upon the Mountain Peak, pristine white without a speck of dust.

* * *

“Hmm. Woke up faster than expected.”

Mountain Peak.
A figure sat carelessly upon the snow-covered ground, repeatedly tossing and catching something in hand while gazing down at the Mountain below.

“Should I inform my master?”

Thud. Thwack.
What was being tossed and caught like a toy in his hand was a blackened heart.
A heart as dark as dead mana.

“…Yes. I should inform him. After all, we’ve gathered all the seeds from those abandoned by the gods.”

A deep smile played at the corners of the Young Prince’s lips.
Thump. Thump. The black heart still dangled from his hand like a plaything.

* * *

“…You want me to give you this?”
“Yes.”

Kale Heniatus confidently extended his hand further toward Fendrick.
The Fake World Tree helped Kale move his hand with ease.

“But you said you’d give it to me?”
“Well, yes, that’s true.”

Fendrick, though perplexed, handed over the World Tree’s sword that the World Tree had instructed him to deliver to Kale Heniatus in times of crisis.
As he did, he relayed the World Tree’s words as well.

“The World Tree said that your blood is special, Young Master.”
“My blood?”

Both Kale Heniatus and Choi Han looked at Fendrick as if asking what he meant.
Fendrick glanced at the Maze descending into chaos and spoke rapidly in hushed tones.

“Yes. The World Tree said it is blood overflowing with vitality and life force beyond anyone else’s. That is why your blood would be a direct counter to beings weak to vitality and vigor, Young Master Kale Heniatus.”

Kale Heniatus recalled a thought from long ago.

Dead mana had an opposing force stronger than anything else.
That force was life itself.

And when confronting dead mana, the most crude, simplest, yet dangerous method was to coat oneself in blood and charge directly at that dead mana.
Of course, in normal circumstances, the risk of death from excessive blood loss was far greater.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart raced in an odd way.

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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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