Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 69

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Kale gazed slowly across the encampment with an expressionless gaze—the tents, the warriors, the merchants and various others moving to and fro. For a moment, he found himself recalling those days when he had been Kim Rok-soo, working in that other life. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he felt an urge to return to the Mansion and simply rest with a book in hand. Yet his face remained as composed as ever.
Kale’s gaze shifted back to Hans. He posed a question to him.

“Do you need to rest?”
“I’m fine!”

Vice-butler Hans could see Kale speaking to him with his usual demeanor.

“Then we should get to work.”

At those words, Hans’s heart grew at ease. Once Kale confirmed that Hans was truly all right, he gathered his party and moved them forward.

Since the civil war had already ended, Kale’s group was able to reach the encampment before the Magic Tower without difficulty by presenting their credentials. At this point, it was less an encampment and more a place where the entire military force was resting after the conclusion of the internal conflict.

And the fact that they could reach the entrance of this encampment at all was only possible because Bilos had already conducted several material transactions during the war. They had come under the name of the Flynn Merchant Guild, after all.

But what they were about to do now was somewhat different.

“We’ve come here today to meet someone named Tunka. So until then, try not to cause any trouble or draw unwanted attention.”

Choi Han, who had been listening quietly, opened his mouth.

“Who is this Tunka you speak of?”
“Ah, that fellow Bob from back then—that’s Tunka. Bob was just an alias.”

Kale answered Choi Han’s question without much concern and turned his gaze toward Bilos. At that moment, he faintly heard Choi Han’s murmuring voice near his ear.

“…So it’s him.”
“Hmm?”
“It’s nothing.”

Choi Han replied with an unbothered expression, and Kale, thinking it was nothing of importance, spoke to Bilos.

“So, Bilos, you said you could reach the tent where the staff officers are gathered?”
“Yes. Not everyone can go, but I believe about six of us, including myself, should be able to manage it.”
“You must have made quite a bit of money.”

If Bilos was conversing with his staff, it meant he had accumulated considerable gains from the civil war. Bilos smiled faintly but offered no further explanation.
At that moment, the voice of Raon, the dragon who had turned transparent, reached my mind.

-This is amusing.

What now? My brow furrowed slightly.

-I have a feeling something interesting is about to happen.

A feeling? A chill ran down the back of my neck, and I brushed the back of my head dismissively, ignoring Raon’s words. I immediately selected the four people who would accompany me.

“Choi Han, Rak, Hilsman.”

My eyes met Rosalind’s. Since arriving in the Wipper Kingdom and surveying the area around the lodging, she had been silent. Perhaps she was angry as a mage at the deaths of her fellow mages.

But I saw something else in Rosalind’s eyes—the gaze of royalty. Her eyes held contempt for the Wiffer Royal Family, who had allowed their people to run wild like this without restraint.

“You’re coming with us, aren’t you, Rosalind?”

Rosalind, dressed in leather armor, adjusted the large club strapped across her back and answered.

“Yes.”

With our group decided, I entrusted the others to Hans.

“We’ll find a quiet place nearby and stay put! I’ll keep everyone safe!”

At the butler Hans’s words, I could see On and Hong snorting dismissively. Both of them simultaneously questioned me with their eyes.

‘When are we going to the Magic Tower?’

I answered them with my eyes as well.

‘Wait just a bit longer.’

The place where the cats would rampage would be within reach soon.

“Let’s go.”
“Yes.”

Bilos led the way, wearing a large pendant emblazoned with the Flynn Merchant Guild’s symbol. Kale followed in his wake. The moment they crossed the threshold of the encampment, a torrent of sharp gazes descended upon them.

“Eyes forward.”

At Kale’s command, everyone’s gaze snapped ahead. The Non-Mage Alliance—a mixture of tribesmen, knights, and commoners—stood drenched in blood, intoxicated by their victory. Among them, Kale’s party stood out conspicuously.

Simultaneously, those figures came into view through Kale’s forward-facing eyes.

‘Still not satisfied, it seems.’

Those who craved war, the madness of those who hungered for more bloodshed—they filled this encampment. Kale’s mind immediately conjured the image of Tunka, who would soon grasp the puppet Wiffer Royal Family in his fist and hurl himself against both the Empire and the Jungle.

Simultaneously, he surveyed the soldiers controlled beneath the tyrant Tunka. They did not provoke, did not challenge, did not fight recklessly. They were those entranced by Tunka, who stimulated the primal terror of instinct. Nowhere was there submission or deference. Instead, they glared at Kale—who appeared noble—as though they would devour him.

“We have arrived.”

Bilos stopped before a tent. It was not as deep within the encampment as I had expected. It lay only a short distance from the entrance.

“The truth is, the staff officers—”
“Bilos.”

Kale cut off Bilos’s words. He already knew what he was about to say.

While the Non-Mage Alliance was believed to have toppled reason itself, examining the reality beneath revealed something else: another form of reason had erupted instead.

Were only mages intelligent? Had only they received education?
No. Countless others had acquired different knowledge. Scholars—they had descended beneath Tunka. Scholars who could no longer endure oppression had their eyes turned inside out.

‘They despise magic even more than Tunka does.’

One could simply say they had gone truly mad. When intelligent people lose their minds, it becomes far more terrifying.

“Make contact.”
“Yes.”

Bilos approached the largest of the tents where the staff officers stayed. A warrior clung to his side, serving as both monitor and guide.
The staff officers’ tent. Here, more disciplined soldiers than elsewhere stood in waiting. While Tunka discarded weak soldiers, he paradoxically protected these advisors.

‘That is precisely why he can never become a true hero.’

Kale easily brushed past the sharp surveillance of the warriors stationed before the tent, waiting for Bilos to bring out the staff member from inside. He would simply ask them to arrange a meeting with Tunka. They would likely welcome the request with open arms.

But then.

‘Why does the back of my neck feel so cold?’

Kale glanced around, troubled by the strange sensation. Bilos was taking far longer than expected to emerge. Retrieving a single person shouldn’t take this long.

-Human.

The moment Raon’s final whisper reached his ears, Kale saw the tent flap of the entrance where Bilos had entered flutter violently. It looked as though a massive figure was about to burst through, shoving people aside.

‘Could it be?’

At that instant, Choi Han, who had been standing behind Kale, stepped forward with a hardened expression, positioning himself protectively in front of him.

“Choi Han?”
“The aura is unstable.”
“What?”

Crash! The tent entrance tore open violently.

“I smell something! A powerful scent! Kahahaha! Perfect timing when I was growing bored!”

A massive man, drenched in blood, emerged into view. Behind him came two more figures—a man and a woman, both large in stature though not quite as imposing.

“Sigh.”

Kale exhaled slowly.
The blood-soaked madman who looked as though he’d showered in that mage’s blood was undoubtedly Tunka. True to form, the unhinged warrior’s gaze locked onto one target with precision.

“There you are!”

It was Choi Han shielding Kale from Tunka’s view. The warrior seemed oblivious to the figure standing behind him.

“The others carry strong scents too, but you reek the most! I cannot possibly sleep with such a fragrance in the air!”

Kale decided he needed to step forward immediately. Then, a question reached his ears—Choi Han’s voice, heavy with concern.

“Are you Tunka?”
“Yeah, you picked up on it quick.”

Kale answered Choi Han’s question indifferently, and in that same moment, Tunka pointed toward Choi Han.

“Fight me. Your hands itching for a brawl?”

Kale exhaled a sigh. The man truly was unchanging.
Choi Han would naturally refuse. Given his nature, he would never engage in meaningless combat. He was not the type to fight a stranger on first meeting.
Kale moved to step past Choi Han and continue forward. Then, Choi Han’s voice reached him.

“I’ll do it.”

What? Raon’s voice echoed in Kale’s mind.

-See? My prediction was right. I, the great Raon, am brilliant!

In stark contrast to Raon’s cheerful voice, my face crumpled without mercy.

Meanwhile, Tunka savored the gleam in Choi Han’s eyes as he gazed back at him. The others faded from view. The strongest scent in this place—that raw power reminiscent of the whale-kin—was now fixed upon him.

“Khkhkh, yes. I like that look in your eyes.”

Tunka thrilled with excitement. This would be a true test of physical combat, not something trivial like magic.

Choi Han placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, observing the madness burning in those eyes. He remained silent. Yet his gaze burned with a sharpness that could dissect Tunka itself.

Shing. The blade emerged slightly from its sheath.
That was the moment.

Crunch. Choi Han felt a firm grip clamp down on his shoulder. A chill ran down the back of his neck. It was that presence he had felt before.
That aura that had captivated everyone’s attention upon the Night Sea. A languid yet irresistible charisma. Only then did Choi Han slowly turn around. A quiet voice, devoid of any emotion, reached his ears.

“Choi Han.”

Kale was looking at me. His eyes—neither reproaching nor commanding, simply observing—seemed infinitely deep. Without realizing it, I released my grip on the sword hilt. Clang. The blade slid back into its sheath.

“Are you trying to fight right now?”

A commanding aura enveloped Kale’s entire frame. He stepped past Choi Han to stand at the forefront. The metallic stench of blood assailed his nostrils.

“Tunka.”

Kale needed to establish dominance over Tunka now. The situation had grown complicated, but this moment could serve as the perfect opportunity.
Kale swept his crimson hair back with a casual gesture and offered a languid greeting to Tunka, who stood frozen in bewilderment.

“It has been a while.”
“You… you’re—”

For a moment, Tunka could not recognize who he was. But the instant the crimson hair registered, a figure came to mind. Yet something was different. His fists clenched. An inexplicable aura emanated from this man.
That bastard who had hurled him into the sea and looked down upon him. Those eyes were the same two months ago as they were now. Kale Heniatus. The man he had seen more than two months prior now posed a question to Tunka.

“Do you wish to fight?”

Kale asked with a languid smile. Yet he did not wait for Tunka’s response.

“Choi Han.”
“…Yes.”

Choi Han could only nod at Kale’s indifferent tone.

“If he wishes to fight, then fight.”

And he could only respond.

“I will certainly emerge victorious.”

Choi Han’s hand returned to the hilt of his sword. His grip tightened with a resolve far stronger than before. Kale turned his gaze toward Tunka. The corners of Tunka’s mouth gradually curved upward. Then, a booming laugh erupted from his chest.

“Kahahahahaha!”

His voice was loud enough to shake the surroundings. Yet Tunka’s body remained tense. The man before him was clearly weak, and yet—!
The aura dominating this space. Tunka ignored it and roared even louder. Exhilaration surged through him. Heat boiled within his body. Blood, he needed blood.

“Let’s fight! Yes! This is excellent!”

In that moment, Raon’s scornful voice echoed within Kale’s mind.

—He’s absolutely obsessed with fighting, the fool. We’re far stronger than they are!

A statement of the obvious. The weather was pleasant today, and Tunka would likely be beaten as thoroughly as dust scattering in the rain.

Choi Han was the type who showed no mercy once a fight began. Watching Tunka, who continued to shout and laugh alone—appearing increasingly unhinged—Kale spoke to Choi Han.

“Fight as much as you wish.”

At those words, a smile played across Choi Han’s lips. Of course, it was a smile that appeared anything but benign. Kale was satisfied with that smile. He called out to Tunka.

“Bob.”

At the alias from two months ago that suddenly emerged, Tunka’s laughter ceased abruptly, and he turned to face Kale. Kale took in the gazes of Tunka’s subordinates, the soldiers creeping cautiously toward the command tent, those frozen in place unable to draw closer—all of it—before finally opening his mouth to address Tunka.

“Set the stage.”

If they were going to fight, they might as well do it properly.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————