Trash of the Count’s Family - Chapter 70

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

Kale Heniatus could hear Tunka’s voice ringing out with unbridled excitement.

“Prepare everything at once!”

In an instant, the Encampment began transforming into an arena. There was nothing unusual about it—the Tribal Warriors, eyes gleaming at the prospect of combat and battle, swept away the tents beside the Training Ground and carved out an ever-expanding Circular Arena.

-Human, the plump human is watching you.

Kale Heniatus turned his gaze at the words of Raon, the Black Dragon. Bilos, his face drained of color, stared at him from a distance. He gave the man a casual wave.

He could see Bilos’s aides nearby, but this was not the time to concern himself with them. The moment a shadow fell before him, Kale Heniatus turned his attention forward.

“I shall guide you to the front.”

A woman of imposing stature. Pelia, Tunka’s left arm and master of the Tribal Warriors’ greatest spear techniques. She pointed Kale Heniatus toward the front row of the spectator stands overlooking the arena. His expression soured.

“There’s no need for such courtesy.”

Kale Heniatus had no desire to sit there. The closest position to the arena. If Tunka happened to fly forward, or if Choi Han’s aura went even slightly awry—he would be the one to die.

“We must offer you the finest seat.”

As Pelia spoke and looked ahead, Kale Heniatus witnessed what seemed like a miracle—soldiers parting in a perfect line all the way to the center of the arena.
Indeed, Pelia was a true commander of discipline.

Kale Heniatus sighed and followed the path carved through the soldiers toward the front of the arena. Though he had already concealed his dominating aura, Pelia and the soldiers could not tear their eyes from him.

His leisurely gait, as though he were merely taking a stroll, exuded composure, while the boy and woman following in his wake appeared far from ordinary.

-Why are you going to such a dangerous spot! Weak human, you cannot act like this just because you’ve grown as strong as a claw!

Yet Kale Heniatus merely walked slowly, listening to the complaints of four-year-old Raon, simply reluctant to go. The expressions of Rosalind and Rak, following behind him, were far from pleased.

“Young Master Kale.”
“What is it?”

Rosalind spoke carefully, her gaze fixed on the arena where Choi Han and Tunka would fight.

“What if he ends up being resented for this?”

Resented? A question flickered across Kale’s eyes.
Then Rak leaned in close beside him and whispered.

“Just as sister said, if Choi Han wins, wouldn’t that be a problem? What if they develop resentment? And Tunka—if he loses, won’t he just get angry and refuse to cooperate?”

In Rosalind and Rak’s minds, the possibility of Choi Han losing didn’t exist at all. Kale shared that conviction. Yet his thoughts diverged slightly from theirs.

Kale slowly settled into a chair that had been hastily prepared for those of high rank. He gestured to the two still standing, indicating the seats beside him.

“You plan to keep standing?”

Rosalind and Rak sat down, unable to shake their worried expressions. Then Kale’s voice reached their ears.

“There’s no need to worry.”

Tunka was not such a formidable warrior. Certainly, by human standards he was strong, but compared to whales and dragons, he was absurdly weak.
However, if Tunka had ever met someone stronger and suffered defeat, then sworn vengeance against them, he could never have come to this place.

And it wasn’t just that.

“Watch.”

Rosalind turned her gaze as Kale pointed toward the Circular Arena. That was the moment.

“Oo! Oo! Oo!”

Voices echoing across the vast arena. The cries of soldiers encircling the training ground struck Rosalind’s ears. It didn’t end there.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound of Tribal Warriors stamping their feet filled the arena. Rak, watching from the stands, could feel the vibrations beneath his feet. As the Tribal Warriors began their rhythmic stomping, gradually the knights and common soldiers joined in, every single one of them stamping without exception.

“Oo! Oo! Oo!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

And the sound grew louder and louder. It was as if the very earth itself was roaring.

“Sir Kale! What, what is this?”

Rak, timid and small-hearted, stared at Kale with a face drained of color at the sight before them. He could see Kale smiling. A strange light flickered in Kale’s eyes.
He spoke for the sake of Rak and Rosalind.

“For them, victory and defeat are not what matters.”

At that moment, Pelia approached Kale’s side, moving to take a seat behind him. His voice reached her ear.

“The warrior’s spirit.”

She paused mid-sit and looked at Kale. Unaware of her gaze, he kept his eyes forward. Slowly, two warriors emerged into the circular arena—the battlefield.
Choi Han and Tunka. Watching them both, Kale spoke without emotion.

“They fight.”

For those led by Tunka, what mattered was not victory or defeat. To fight. That alone was what mattered. Especially if the opponent was not an enemy—rather, the warriors’ battle was sacred.

“Only that is what truly matters.”

Kale finished speaking and leaned back against the chair as far as he could. Now that Tunka and Choi Han were actually stepping into the arena to fight, I found myself worrying they might get hurt.

Then the Black Dragon Raon’s voice reached me.

-Don’t worry, weak human. I am stronger than those two! They won’t get hurt.

His voice was filled with pity. Kale felt oddly displeased, but he leaned back against the chair as much as possible and glanced behind him.

“Why is that?”
“It’s nothing.”

Kale turned his gaze forward after watching Pelia sit down. Of course, he straightened his back away from the chair. It was because he worried that Pelia, who was loyal to Tunka though tediously so, might do something harmful to him.

-Yes. Don’t sit so pitifully in that chair—straighten your back proudly and watch! Human, you’re magnificent!

Ignoring the Black Dragon Raon’s nonsense, Kale watched as Hota, another of Tunka’s subordinates, stepped forward as the referee.

‘Well, there’s not much to referee anyway.’

Until the opponent lost consciousness or submitted. That was the way of the Tribal Warriors’ sparring. And here, losing consciousness was a shameful thing for them.

“Young master, should we feel reassured then?”
“Yes, you may.”

Kale answered Rosalind’s question while watching the Circular Arena at the sound of Hota’s voice. Hota blew a small whistle.

Piiiiiii—!

The sparring had begun.
I would have preferred they exchange blows immediately, but Choi Han and Tunka simply watched each other without moving. Kale observed them without any particular thought.
In that instant, Tunka’s voice rang out. Though the training ground was vast, they were watching from just outside it, so his voice carried clearly. And it was very loud.

“Why are you watching the weak one?”

The weak one? Kale felt as though those words were directed at him.

‘Choi Han is watching me? Why?’

Kale was puzzled, but he couldn’t think further. Rosalind and Rak kept glancing at him. So Tunka’s “weak one” was indeed referring to him.

Then Choi Han’s voice came.

“…What did you say?”

His voice was deeply subdued. Kale could see the sneer forming at the corners of Tunka’s mouth.

“I said, why are you watching him? The weak ones are the ones who die first, whether on a battlefield or anywhere else! You can’t possibly not know that, can you?”

Rosalind and Rak furrowed their brows. In that moment, a single word reached their ears.

“Sigh.”

Kale exhaled a sigh. At that, Rak clenched his mouth shut. The tips of his nails sharpened and began to grow slightly. Rosalind wiped her eyes with her fingers.
But both their movements soon stopped.

“Poor fellow.”

…Poor? Confusion crossed both their faces, and they looked at Kale. Kale gazed at the training ground with an indifferent expression, as if he hadn’t just sighed.

The Choi Han that Kale knew had stopped growing at second year of high school, and had fallen into the hellish Dark Forest in his weakest state. So when Tunka told such a Choi Han that the weak must die first, Kale simply felt pity for him.

“Prince Kale, who just said something was pitiful—”
“…Look.”

Rather than answer Rosalind, Kale pointed toward the training ground.
At that moment, Choi Han unbuckled the sword belt at his waist. When Choi Han casually tossed the plain iron sword, it flew to the corner of the circular arena.

Thud. The sound of the scabbard hitting the ground echoed. Kale nodded at the action and murmured to himself.

“As expected, bare hands have better feel for striking.”

Rak and Rosalind flinched. And Kale’s words became reality.

Boom!

“Ugh!”

Rosalind could now answer the question—who was the pitiful one Kale had spoken of.

Boom! Crack!
Thud.
Boom!

The training ground fell silent.
No one dared open their mouth. Yet inside Kale’s mind, Raon’s voice was ringing out.

-He’s getting absolutely pummeled!

That was right. Choi Han was beating Tunka to a pulp.

“Ugh, you bastard!”

Despite his enormous frame, Tunka shot forward nimbly toward Choi Han and threw a punch.

Pop.
With a cute sound, the fist was blocked by Choi Han’s palm. Choi Han grasped the fist firmly and shifted his body toward Tunka. All of this happened in an instant.
Kale could only see up to that point. What came after was beyond his sight.

But I could only hear it.

Boom!

Tunka’s body crashed onto the dirt ground. Dust scattered as the earth crumbled beneath him.

“Cough!”

The sound of Tunka gasping for breath reached my ears. Yet I could see that Tunka was laughing.

“Excellent! Such strength! The power of the body in comba— Ugh!”
“You talk too much.”

But Choi Han did not allow Tunka the luxury of laughter.
I watched as Tunka rose to his feet and raised both arms to block the incoming attack, only to be struck by Choi Han’s leg and sent flying.

“Ugh! Haha!”

Tunka laughed even as he flew backward. He twisted his body to charge again. Still, he was beaten down. No matter what he did, he simply took the hits.

All I could see was Tunka’s blood scattering through the air, his clothes becoming tattered, his face swelling grotesquely until it was barely recognizable, and dirt spraying everywhere.

“Heh… hehe, but I will not fall!”

Staggering, Tunka rose to his feet once more. At that moment, I heard the Dragon’s grave voice.

-…Why is that bastard laughing when he’s getting beaten? Does he enjoy getting hit?

I turned my gaze skyward. Even so, the sound of a punching bag being pummeled relentlessly continued.

Right. If Choi Han—who fights even the Whale Tribe—couldn’t beat down Tunka as he pleased, that would make no sense. The Black Dragon Raon and the Whale King Siceller. Only Choi Han could stand against those two.
Indeed, Choi Han was the true protagonist.

Thud! Crack!

With a distant gaze, I looked far off into the empty sky.

How much longer would Choi Han continue beating him?
Probably until Tunka’s stamina was completely exhausted.

Yet Tunka’s stamina was absolutely extraordinary.

“My lord, shouldn’t we stop Choi Han?”

Kale answered Rosalind’s cautious question with unwavering resolve.

“We must not interfere with a warrior’s trial. The decision to yield must come from the warriors’ own will. Our duty is simply to witness this sacred ritual in its entirety.”

Kale did not notice the senior warriors seated behind him watching him intently. His gaze merely dropped at the sound of another thunderous crash. Bang!

“Hehehehe, truly a formidable opponent. Cough, spit!”

Tunka laughed even as he spat out a mouthful of blood. Choi Han regarded him with obvious exasperation. Choi Han must have recognized Tunka’s madness.

Pae keeps laughing. He rises despite being battered worse than dust stirred up on a rainy day. There is no surrender in him. He seems like he belongs in a shonen manga.

‘That’s why he’s insane.’

Kale could see Tunka’s limbs trembling. Whether his eyes were open or closed from the swelling around them was impossible to tell.
With a grim expression, Tunka charged forward one final time with a primal roar.

“Uuuaaahhh!”

And he flew.

“…He’s airborne.”

Tunka soared skyward, sent flying by Choi Han’s translucent black aura.

“Uh, uh?”
“Move, move!”
“Everyone get back!”

The soldiers hastily retreated, scrambling to avoid Tunka hurtling down from the sky toward them.

Boom!

With a deafening explosion-like sound, a deep crater formed as if a meteor had struck. Within that crater lay an unconscious Tunka—the very defeat he despised most.

Choi Han approached without bothering to check Kale’s condition. Kale rose from his seat. He had been waiting for this moment.
Rosalind and Rak, who had started to stand and greet Choi Han in turn, froze. Tunka’s subordinates, who had been about to rush toward Tunka, did the same.

That aura he had felt once before. That atmosphere—languid yet commanding, making the body tense. Kale extended his hand toward Choi Han, who had stepped before him.

“Well done.”
“Yes, Kale.”

Choi Han grasped that hand with a smile. Kale, wrapped in a dominating aura from head to toe, surveyed his surroundings. The gazes directed at him and Choi Han. They were starkly different from when he had first entered the military camp.

A languid smile played at the corners of Kale’s lips.

Now the board was finally laid out properly.
The board Kale desired.

Tap. Tap. Tunka’s eyes opened at the gentle touch patting his cheek. Pelia was waking him. Yet over her shoulder, Tunka saw Kale.
Kale looked down at the prone Tunka and spoke.

“Guide me to the Magic Tower.”

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