Trash of the Count's Family Vol 2. Chapter 356: Records (1)

“Eruhaben-nim.”

It has been two days since Cale regained consciousness.

Cale called out the ancient Dragon's name once more.

“The ancient artifact-”

“Be quiet.”

Eruhaben paid Cale no mind.

“No, seriously-”

“Human, shut up!”

A morsel of food was gently placed into Cale’s open mouth.

Cale chewed and swallowed the bite of beef that Raon had delivered using magic. While reclining on the bed, Cale was contemplating.

‘…Something feels off.’

He had been restless on the bed for two days. After glancing at everyone present, Cale began to speak.

“Isn’t it about time we got moving-”

“Young master-nim.”

Ron offered him a lemonade with a smile, and Cale took a sip without protest.

‘Ruthless.’

They were keeping an extremely close watch on him.

Cale had endured this constant and intense surveillance for two days.

The children, all around nine years old, Choi Han, Ron, Beacrox, and Eruhaben. Additionally, the Mercenary King, feigning intoxication, and the mage, Glenn Poeff, who was genuinely inebriated.

They were all taking turns ensuring Cale rested adequately.

It made no difference that he felt an overwhelming amount of tasks needed to be accomplished.

‘Ahem, if we intend to defeat the White Star.’

‘Human, be quiet!’

‘Eruhaben-nim, isn't it about time you utilized the ancient artifact?’

‘Silence, you unlucky wretch.’

Cale's attempts had been repeatedly unsuccessful.

Cale allowed the days to pass as his efforts failed time after time. His finger began to twitch.

Poke.

“Human! What are you doing?!”

Cale lightly poked Raon’s plump cheek. He then gently stroked On and Hong without uttering a word.

A piece of fruit found its way into Cale’s mouth even as he was doing this.

“…Being idle truly is the best.”

Cale reaffirmed this to himself and opened his mouth once more.

“Eruhaben-nim.”

“Shu-”

“I am well now.”

Eruhaben turned his gaze towards Cale, who had interrupted him and was now beginning to sit up. Cale met his eyes with confidence.

It was at that precise moment.

“Well?

Pfft.”

He heard a sound of scoffing directed at him. Cale turned his head. His attention was drawn to a nearby table.

Upon observing who was seated there…

“…That incorrigible drunkard.”

The drunkard, who was resting his head on the table even as he drank, lifted it.

Naturally, his eyes were perfectly clear.

The individual in question was none other than the Mercenary King, Bud Illis.

“In the esteemed opinion of this secretary, you will require approximately one year of rest to fully recover.”

“…Sigh.”

Cale couldn't help but let out a sigh.

‘Why did I ever agree to have him as my secretary through a bet?’

He opened his mouth to articulate his thoughts.

“Aren't you disappointed that you didn't truly strive to win the wager? How about we try it again, for real?”

“…A drinking contest?”

“Yes, precisely. A drinking contest.”

Cale pointed to himself and continued speaking.

“If I emerge victorious, you shall cease being my secretary, and I wish to never lay eyes on you again. What do you say?”

Smirk.

The Mercenary King offered a smirk before lowering his head.

“Aigoo, I’m becoming quite tipsy!”

He rested his head back on the table, turning away from Cale.

“Tha, that-!”

Cale began to feel irritation.

He had never encountered such an irrational individual before.

Bud Illis consistently feigned drunkenness to evade Cale's declarations that he would no longer be his secretary.

‘Who cares if you're pretending to be drunk?

Even though you reek of alcohol, your eyes betray nothing!’

“Young master-nim.”

The exasperated Cale flinched upon hearing Ron’s voice.

“…Are you seriously discussing drinking in your present state? Are you contemplating alcohol when you only consumed Beacrox’s packed meals for a single day and fasted for the subsequent six?”

“Ahem.”

Cale let out a feigned cough before turning away from Ron and slowly rising from the bed. Ron’s son, Beacrox, sighed and added his own comment.

“It would be beneficial if you could at least inform us of your activities within that place or the reason for your six-day fast.”

Cale clenched his jaw even tighter.

He had provided a vague explanation to the group regarding his activities on Wind Island over the past week.

He had stated that his arrival was delayed due to efforts in strengthening the Sound of the Wind. The delay was attributed to the island serving as a dead mana storage facility.

However, certain details remained undisclosed.

Cale’s gaze met Choi Han’s. He recalled Choi Han’s pertinent question.

‘What sort of fortification was it?’

Cale had offered a brief reply to that inquiry.

‘A standard one, nothing special.’

No one found that explanation credible. What kind of fortification necessitated nearly a week of fasting?

Yet, Cale offered no further elaboration.

It was unavoidable.

‘It’s not as though I can fabricate a falsehood.’

He was unable to lie about the nature of the trial, but equally, he could not disclose the actual events that transpired.

There was no advantage in doing so.

It was all an illusion.

It was entirely a fabricated scenario that would not manifest in reality.

Why would he reveal such information, only to cause anxiety among the youngsters and the elders?

Cale calmly lifted his foot.

He then proceeded to kick the table.

Bang!

“Aigoo!”

Bud, with his head resting on the table, feigned surprise as he lifted his head. Cale then initiated the conversation with him.

“Hey, secretary.”

Gesturing towards the ancient artifact, he continued speaking.

“Go find a secluded spot to prepare.”

The ancient artifact could not be utilized in a crowded chamber.

Cale watched as the ancient Dragon began to rise, letting out a sigh.

* * *

A massive iron gate swung open, revealing an open expanse. Bud, holding a bottle, addressed the group as he gestured to the area.

“This is the very place where my grandfather subjected me to hellish training, where I achieved the status of a sword master, and where I served as the gatekeeper for Wind Island!”

“Haaaaa.”

Mage Glenn Poeff emitted a sigh and shook his head. However, Bud’s demeanor was earnest.

“This ground bears the imprint of my blood, sweat, and tears! It is the training ground for the gatekeepers! Sob, you have no idea how many times I face-planted here in the name of training, sob!”

Despite Bud Illis’s sobs, not a single person among them spared him a second glance as they entered the training grounds. Only the small red kitten, Hong, the last to enter, offered a pat to Bud with its front paw, exclaiming, “Cheer up! What a sad story!”

“Sob. Hong!”

Bud attempted to embrace Hong, but the kitten deftly evaded the grasp of the tipsy individual. Yet, the kitten was compelled to halt its movement.

“I shall handle this alone.”

Eruhaben’s declaration was the reason for the halt. Cale, holding the ancient artifact, observed the Dragon who had just stated his intention to proceed solo. Eruhaben met Cale’s gaze with a calm demeanor.

“I prefer to do this by myself. It would be best if everyone waited outside.”

He then extended his hand towards Cale, signaling for him to relinquish the jar.

“No! Goldie gramps, I’ll be right beside you!”

Raon protested, his presence there being an unspoken assumption. The others voiced their concurrence with Raon. Eruhaben added a crucial statement at that moment.

“I am a great and mighty Dragon.”

Even while merely standing, he emanated a powerful aura.

“I do not wish for others to witness my healing process.”

After hearing the words spoken by the pale yet resolute ancient Dragon, someone was the first to step back.

“I pray that the ancient artifact proves effective.”

It was Ron Molan. The elderly man comprehended the ancient Dragon’s feelings. Nobody could predict Eruhaben’s appearance during the healing. He might writhe in agony or struggle intensely. Ron understood profoundly why the ancient Dragon would wish to avoid such an exhibition. He recalled the expressions on the faces of those present when he himself endured excruciating pain after losing his arm. Following Ron were Choi Han and Beacrox. The children, who appeared to be around nine years old, grumbled but retreated upon seeing Choi Han and Beacrox move aside. “Ahem, hem. Then I shall reiterate the instructions for using the ancient artifact once more.” Mercenary King Bud stepped back, proceeding to explain the artifact’s usage. “This artifact will automatically fill with the precise amount of water needed for the individual who chooses to use it upon themselves.” Bud indicated the slightly cracked jar. “Upon consuming the water, any afflictions related to vitality will be ameliorated to the user’s desired extent. Naturally, the experience might involve some discomfort depending on the severity of the condition. My own stomach felt quite unsettled when I utilized it.” Vitality. This was the power intrinsically linked to healing and prolonging life. Cale could hear the thief’s voice echo in his mind. – The vitality accumulating within that jar originates from individuals who met their end prematurely. This particular jar contained the vitality of those who perished sooner than their time due to the machinations of the Forest of Darkness. – That is why I find satisfaction in knowing it is being put to a beneficial use. The thief conveyed her approval of Eruhaben’s decision to use the artifact. Cale directed his attention to both the thief and Bud. Bud continued his explanation. “Naturally, should the requisite amount of vitality for the user exceed the jar’s capacity, the jar will shatter once the user consumes the water.” Cale mused that there was a significant probability of the jar breaking. The life force of a Dragon was under consideration. As beings of immense longevity and formidable strength, a substantial quantity of vitality would be necessary to enhance such a creature. “I understand.” Eruhaben offered little more than a nod before gesturing with his chin. “Hand me the jar and remain outside. I shall summon you once the process is complete.” Cale complied, handing Eruhaben the jar without any objection. Subsequently, he departed the training ground without any hesitation. The others either followed him silently or trailed behind with a degree of reluctance. Raon paused momentarily, calling out to Eruhaben. “Gramps! You must live for a very long time!” Eruhaben responded with a smirk. “I am aware, little one.” He then gave a shrug. “Do you truly believe you can confront the White Star without my assistance? I am a being who honors my commitments.” Cale observed the smiling ancient Dragon. “I proclaimed I would live a long life, and thus, I must ensure I do.”

A relaxed smile graced the ancient Dragon's face, prompting Raon to finally depart the training grounds and settle beside Cale.

Eruhaben's gaze swept over the group assembled outside the gate before he turned and snapped his fingers.

Snap!

A resounding click followed as the massive iron gate swung shut, sealing off the view.

Baaaaang!

With a final, echoing bang, the entrance was closed, obscuring whatever transpired beyond from the others' sight.

Cale ambled over, leaning against a wall as the rest remained transfixed, staring at the imposing gate.

“Oh, my dear friend. Aren’t you exhibiting a rather excessive level of calm?”

He returned Bud’s question with blunt simplicity.

“Did you not claim that merely drinking the water would suffice, with absolutely no adverse effects?”

“Precisely. I was so taken aback by the sight of it filling that I simply downed it all in one go.”

Bud offered a smile and a nod. Yet, his cheerful expression swiftly vanished.

“Mm, however, I cannot guarantee the extent of the pain he might experience. The ancient Dragon and I are not the same.”

Cale merely nodded, his face a mask of stoicism. His hand drifted into his pocket.

Bud took another swig of his drink, observing the silent, standing figures before his gaze returned to the gate.

His thoughts began to churn.

‘We absolutely require the ancient Dragon’s power if we are to stand any chance against the White Star.’

The disparity in their odds against the White Star and his followers would be immense, with or without the ancient Dragon's presence.

For strategic imperatives, Bud Illis had concluded that the ancient Dragon must continue to exist for an extended period, at the very least until all matters concerning the White Star were concluded.

It was for this very reason he awaited the completion of the healing process with a heart full of anxiety.

It was at that precise moment.

A subtle disturbance arose within the otherwise silent vicinity.

“Ha!”

A scoff echoed through the air.

Bud’s head turned sharply to the side.

It was Cale, the source of the scoff.

“As I suspected, it has unfolded precisely as I anticipated.”

Cale then began to walk.

“Cale-nim, what is occurring?”

“Human, what troubles you?”

Cale paid their questions no mind.

Clang!

The distinct sound of something fracturing echoed from within the iron gate.

Hong’s voice chimed in response.

“I believe the ancient artifact has been broken!”

A peculiar sense of unease permeated the group.

Eruhaben had indeed wielded the ancient artifact. However, the artifact, unable to withstand the strain, had shattered. How much efficacy had it offered Eruhaben prior to its demise?

In hushed anticipation, they all awaited word from Eruhaben.

In their suspense, they had overlooked Cale, who had been steadily moving towards the gate. His actions seemed of little consequence to them.

Cale stopped directly in front of the immense door.

His right hand remained concealed within his pocket.

That hand clutched the handle of the top’s whip.

‘The Dragon is utilizing the ancient artifact!’

‘Ohhhhhhhh!’

Cale had been privy to the whispers of the Wind Elementals since some time ago.

He had placed his trust in Eruhaben.

Nevertheless, he had observed something.

The moment Eruhaben grasped the handle, the jar began to fill with water.

It advanced slowly, a mere trickle at a time.

This particular jar possessed the unique ability to replenish its contents in accordance with the user's desires and needs.

If a Dragon were truly endeavoring to prolong his existence, to achieve that specific goal…

Would the water truly be replenished at such a leisurely pace?

The Mercenary King had explicitly stated that he had to quickly guzzle the contents when he first employed the ancient artifact. Did this not imply that the water’s replenishment rate was exceptionally rapid?

It was precisely for this reason that Cale had instinctively secured the top’s whip the moment he emerged, preparing for any eventuality.

He had immediately discerned the voices of the Wind Elementals.

He continued to place his faith in Eruhaben.

However, he was acutely aware that Eruhaben held deep affection for Raon, for himself, and for the others. Cale understood the peculiar actions people took when they cherished something or someone.

This comprehension stemmed from his own past experiences of being cherished.

Cale had indeed heard the voices of the Wind Elementals.

‘Wow! The Dragon only took a single gulp!’

The jar had only provided enough water for a solitary draught.

‘He’s storing the jar in his spatial dimension? Amazing, he’s fabricating a breaking sound using magic.’

The corners of Cale’s lips began to curve upwards.

He detected the voice of an elder Wind Elemental.

‘Child. Would you care to learn the Dragon’s own mumbled words?’

Cale offered no reply. He did not even incline his head.

Eruhaben’s innermost thoughts were a matter Cale intended to address and resolve personally. However, the venerable Wind Elemental proceeded to provide the answer, unprompted by any inquiry from Cale.

‘The Dragon, after consuming a single gulp, uttered to himself: ‘This shall suffice for an extended duration,’ he declared.’

This shall suffice for an extended duration.

The implicit meaning conveyed by those words was unmistakable.

‘…Until we successfully vanquish the White Star.’

That particular phrase was all that was needed to complete the intended sentiment.

This is merely enough; this is sufficient to last until the ultimate defeat of the White Star.

Such an utterance was incongruous with the declaration of one aspiring to a lengthy existence.

Furthermore, Eruhaben’s intention in concealing the ancient artifact within his spatial dimension was equally transparent. He would undoubtedly refrain from utilizing it for his own personal gain.

Cale placed his hand upon the doorknob. Wind began to coalesce within his grasp.

Screeeech.

With a groan, the enormous iron gate slowly yielded, propelled open by the gathered wind.

Slipping through the narrow opening, Cale uttered a command to those accompanying him.

"You all are not to enter."

A collection of bewildered expressions met his words.

Baaaaang!

Nevertheless, the door, which had been ajar, was forcefully shut once more ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★.

Cale’s gaze lingered on the sealed gate before he turned his attention away.

The sprawling training grounds lay before him.

"...Cale?"

Eruhaben, his complexion fully restored, observed Cale with a smile tinged with bewilderment.

Cale, however, knitted his brows as he questioned,

"So, this is the attitude you're taking?"

This particular expression, had Crown Prince Alberu been present, would have been deemed utterly insolent.