Trash of the Count's Family Vol 2. Chapter 351: Severance (5)

Upon opening his eyes, he encountered an unfamiliar face.

‘Who is this person?’

It was a young boy, appearing to be a teenager.

His eyes widened considerably upon making eye contact with Cale.

“Oh, my lord. You’ve awakened immediately, which is unusual for you.”

Cale’s brow furrowed; the teenager’s address of ‘lord’ and direct gaze unsettled him.

‘The moment you fear the most will greet you.’

The words from the test surfaced in his mind.

“...I am the Lord of this territory?”

‘Could this be connected to my greatest fear?’

Cale’s expression shifted, becoming somewhat strange.

‘Is this what I feared?’

“Are you not yet fully awake, my lord?”

The teenager’s demeanor towards the territorial lord mirrored how one might treat a familiar adult. He then shook his head and continued speaking as Cale silently observed him.

“Indeed, sir. You are an exceptionally renowned lord. You are the great hero who delivered our Roan Kingdom, along with the Western and Eastern continents, from the clutches of the wicked White Star.”

Cale’s frown deepened once more.

The teenager smirked, a hint of mischief playing on his lips, as he noticed Cale’s reaction.

“Lord-nim, you always wear that particular expression whenever I mention that. Please rise now. It is time for breakfast.”

Cale’s gaze followed the teenager, who was now moving towards the partially opened curtains.

‘Saved the world from the wicked White Star?’

This particular statement resonated with Cale more profoundly than being called a great hero or the lord of the territory.

‘...Has everything concluded?’

Was this test a glimpse into the future, long after all conflicts had ended?

Cale’s eyes, which had been tracking the teenager, suddenly halted their movement.

He flinched slightly.

A mirror was visible.

‘...I appear to be in my mid-thirties.’

A mature face, distinctly different from the Cale of his twenties in the original timeline, regarded him from the mirror.

The reflection showed a face etched with weariness and frailty, mirroring the frown Cale currently wore.

Chhhhhhhh.

The sound of the curtains being drawn back reached him. Cale looked towards the sunlight glinting off the mirror and spoke.

“What is my age?”

“Pardon?”

The teenager responded with confusion, but Cale paid it no mind.

He was in the midst of a test and needed to acquire as much information as possible to expedite its completion.

“Aigoo, lord-nim.”

The teenager let out a sigh before answering.

“You are thirty-six years old this year.”

Thirty-six years old.

This age evoked a peculiar sensation within Cale.

In ‘The Birth of a Hero,’ Kim Rok Soo’s age prior to his transmigration into Cale Henituse’s body had been thirty-six.

Cale recalled his past, specifically the times he’d spent curled in a corner of his room, rolling on his bed while engrossed in reading ‘The Birth of a Hero.’

The frown on Cale’s face showed no signs of dissipating, and the teenager, likely observing him, deliberately injected an excited tone into his voice as he continued.

“More than a decade has passed since peace was restored to the continent. It is all thanks to you, my lord.”

“Thanks to me, my ass.”

Cale muttered involuntarily, and the teenager replied.

“Pfft! My lord, that’s always your response to that!”

The teenager’s mirthful laughter prompted Cale to slowly turn away from the mirror.

He could now see the window, previously obscured by the curtains.

His gaze fell upon the landscape visible outside.

“...This is the Lord’s Castle.”

It was Cale’s bedroom within the Henituse Estate. The unchanged appearance of the bedroom led Cale to believe this was indeed the Count’s Estate.

However, the view from the window was at a greater height than usual for his personal room.

Only the Lord’s Castle in the Henituse territory possessed rooms situated this high up.

It suggested that Cale Henituse in this life had established his bedroom within the Lord’s Castle itself.

‘...Why would he choose to reside in the Lord’s Castle instead of the Count’s Estate? Was he so consumed by his duties that he couldn’t even return home?’

Being a lord was burdensome enough, but he was also an exceptionally busy one.

Cale filed this information away mentally, his attention returning to the view outside the window.

He observed a clear sky above, and below, more buildings than he recalled, interspersed with tiny figures of people moving about.

After a moment of observation, he began to speak.

“...But.”

It was absent.

Something that ought to have been present was missing.

At thirty-six years old.

Cale Henituse, now at the age Kim Rok Soo had vanished, spoke.

“Where is Ron?”

He was not here.

The individual who should have been waking Cale was Ron.

Furthermore, other individuals who would typically be present upon his awakening – those who might yawn, complain of hunger, or converse about world travels after waking earlier than Cale – were also absent.

The children were not here.

His face devoid of emotion, Cale turned towards the teenager.

“...Ah.”

The teenager’s expression became complicated.

“That, my lord. Are you feeling particularly weary?”

The teenager attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction.

However, the teenager could only manage an awkward smile before starting to speak, observing Cale’s quiet and serious expression.

“Lord-nim, Hero Ron Molan resides within your heart, as do the hearts of myself and all the citizens across the continent.”

“Haaaaaaaaa.”

Cale let out a sigh, closing his eyes.

He was suddenly reminded of the people who had offered their condolences during his time watching over a funeral as Kim Rok Soo.

Some of them had worn pitying expressions as they addressed him.

‘Mr. Rok Soo, no, I suppose I should address you as team leader-nim now. Team leader-nim, we will all carry the memory of the former team leader-nim and the others’ sacrifices.’

‘Everyone will come to know of their great deeds.’

This occurred when the cataclysm struck Earth.

Numerous individuals had lost one or two family members.

The people under team leader Lee Soo Hyuk in the company where Cale had started as a rookie were all individuals left orphaned by the cataclysm.

Unlike Kim Rok Soo, who had been an orphan long before the disaster, team leader Lee Soo Hyuk and the other team members had all experienced the loss of family due to the cataclysm.

This was the reason Cale, no, Kim Rok Soo, was the sole person capable of overseeing the funeral.

And now...

The teenager's recent words echoed in Cale’s mind once more.

They served as the answer regarding Ron’s whereabouts.

‘Hero Ron Molan resides within your heart, Lord-nim, along with the hearts of myself and the rest of the continent’s citizens.’

Cale closed his eyes.

Was he jesting?

It was entirely possible that this mischievous teenager was attempting a joke.

A calm voice began to emerge from his lips.

“What about On and Hong? And Raon?”

The teenager replied.

“...My lord-”

His voice was laden with sorrow and concern, which was sufficient.

Cale contemplated the contents of the test once more.

‘The moment you fear most will confront you.’

Cale’s pupils trembled as if stirred by waves.

“...What a cruel test this is.”

His eyelids quivered. He truly didn't know what expression he should be wearing at this moment.

‘Wow, Kim Rok Soo was so terrible. He didn’t even shed a tear.’

‘I know, right? His friends and sunbaes all perished, yet how could his expression remain unchanged?’

‘Expression unchanged? I did see him frown a few times.’

‘He’s awful. What a dreadful bastard. I wonder if he even understands the meaning of sadness.’

Cale abruptly got out of bed. The teenager, who appeared to be his servant, approached as Cale moved towards the door he presumed led to the restroom.

His servant began to speak.

“You have no scheduled activities this morning.”

‘I’m the lord, yet I have nothing to do?

My father, Count Deruth, was perpetually occupied.’

Cale opened his mouth to respond.

“...What about the administrative duties for the territory?”

The teenager tilted his head in confusion at Cale’s inquiry before answering.

“His majesty dispatched remarkable individuals to the territory on your behalf, my lord. Consequently, you delegate all matters, barring the most crucial tasks, to them. H-his majesty declared he was granting your wish, my lord.”

Cale’s expression shifted to one of peculiarity.

His majesty.

Cale’s wish.

These thoughts inevitably led him to recall Alberu Crossman.

The king had provided him with ample support to function as a lord who could afford to be idle.

This resonated with Alberu Crossman’s assertion that he would permit Cale to live a life of leisure.

“...What is his majesty's name?”

The teenager responded to Cale’s question with evident confusion.

“Robbit Crossman?”

That was not Crown Prince Alberu’s name.

It was the name of the second prince.

“...How vexing.”

A surge of anger began to course through Cale. Conversely, his body grew intensely cold, as if he had been doused in icy water.

Unbeknownst to Cale, the tips of his fingers were trembling.

Nevertheless, his voice remained tranquil.

“I will be attending to matters on my own this morning.”

He then turned and entered the restroom. Though aware of the confused servant standing outside the door, Cale paid no mind.

He did not inquire about his new servant’s name.

He had no desire to ask.

* * *

“...My lord?”

Cale observed several knights calling out to him, yet he merely cast a glance in their direction before continuing his walk.

The knights were unable to halt Cale, and their expressions were peculiar.

‘Damn it.’

Cale, understanding the sentiment behind their looks, could not suppress his irritation.

A substantial book was held firmly in Cale’s hand.

He gripped it tightly, but its sheer thickness made it impossible to even leave a slight indentation.

This tome had been retrieved from the library within the Lord’s Castle.

Cale had dedicated the entire day to his search for information.

He sought to comprehend the events of the past.

He was determined to uncover what had transpired over the preceding 16 years.

He scoured every location in pursuit of any relevant information.

Crunch.

The distinct sound of rustling leaves met his ears.

It was late Autumn here.

While it was late Spring in the real world, the season here was late Fall.

Cale’s gaze remained fixed forward as he walked.

Crunch, crunch.

Fallen leaves crunched beneath his footsteps.

Yet, Cale continued to look ahead, his face devoid of any discernible emotion.

Cale Hentituse abruptly halted his steps.

—...Haaaa.

A sigh escaped his lips, quite involuntarily.

—...Even though this is clearly an illusory and absurd trial,...

The tome slipped from his grasp, plummeting to the ground.

Thud.

The fallen book lay open.

< ...The climactic confrontation with the White Star. The Count’s Estate met its demise as the White Star launched an assault upon the Henituse territory. >

Within the pages, Cale beheld the desolate ruin of the Henituse Estate.

< In the absence of Cale Hentituse, the residents of the Count’s household valiantly shielded the populace while awaiting his return, only to suffer grievous injuries or succumb to death. Those critically wounded ultimately passed away as well. >

Count Deruth, Countess Violan, Basen, and Lily.

The Deputy Butler Hans, the chef Beacrox, and the servant Ron.

Not a single soul connected to the Count’s household was present within this simulated reality.

Every person Cale held dear had met their end.

Cale stood as the sole survivor.

It represented a profound severance.

He had been detached from the world.

Chhh.

The late autumn breeze turned the pages of the book.

< ...Choi Han and Rosalyn, united in their struggle against the White Star, were struck down by brilliant white lightning descending from the heavens. Nevertheless, the inhabitants of the Western Continent, situated beneath the onslaught, found their survival ensured through their ultimate sacrifice. >

< ...No necromancers remained upon the continent. Mary, the final necromancer. She was the last of her kind. >

Numerous names flickered past as the pages underwent this rapid progression.

On, Hong, Lock, Beacrox, Eruhaben, Jack, Hannah, and others.

Every leaf bearing a name was rendered crumpled.

Faint papercuts adorned Cale’s digits.

These were acquired during the act of crumpling or swiftly turning the leaves.

His eyes were rimmed with a distinct redness.

< The eternally devoted companion of Hero Cale Hentituse, Raon Miru. We must address the matter of that Dragon. We must recount his noble demise...... >

Chhh.

The wind ceased, and the book settled upon its concluding page.

< The final engagement. Hero Cale Hentituse emerged as the singular survivor. >

< ...He expressed a wish to preserve the remnants of his comrades and kin who had stood with him during the ultimate battle at his estate. Robbit Crossman, the current sovereign of the Roan Kingdom, chose to honor Hero Cale Hentituse’s desire rather than erect a monument to house these relics left by the departed. >

< ...However, no one could ascertain the precise location of the Estate Cale Hentituse had spoken of. He withdrew to his domain following the final conflict and subsequently vanished from the world’s view. >

Cale commenced to speak.

—Super Rock.

No reply was forthcoming.

He attempted to summon forth each of the ancient powers' original proprietors. Not one responded to his call.

‘I must expedite the completion of this trial.’

Cale had a compelling motive for concluding this trial. Nay, a fervent desire for its cessation.

Cale reacquired possession of the book.

< His estate. >

These particular words snagged his attention.

Cale altered his trajectory.

An intuitive sense guided him, a feeling of knowing where each person would be situated.

The Super Rock Villa. The sanctuary Cale envisioned inhabiting once all was resolved.

The Forest of Darkness.

This was the destination he was now bound for.

—...I detest this.

He harbored a profound aversion for trials of this nature.

The posture of the 36-year-old Cale Hentituse, as he walked, bore an uncanny resemblance to that of the 36-year-old Kim Rok Soo.

His shoulders were noticeably slumped.