Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Translator: Penny
Chapter 4
Barbaroi 3
The guards had been on edge all day.
Since the Head of House and his wife had died, the number of visitors to the mansion had increased severalfold.
Indeed, from morning till night, a constant stream of visitors arrived, forcing the guards to intensify their duties. They had to search carriages and bodies, verify the identities of all entrants, and reinforce security throughout the mansion.
"That noble earlier was a real pain in the ass. A mere Baron acting like he owns the place."
"Hey, watch your mouth. I heard he's First in the Collateral Line."
"What? Fuck, is he going to become the Head of House?"
"I wouldn't know. If that happens, it'll probably be his son, not the Baron himself, who takes over."
"Bullshit. Does a Baron even measure up to a Count's House?"
House Veilain wasn't a particularly powerful or prestigious noble family.
They hadn't risen to prominence in the central court, nor did their vast territories qualify them as Great Lords.
Their fief lacked any special tourist attractions or commercial hubs that would generate significant wealth. Even their knightly order was unremarkable, making them an utterly ordinary noble house.
One might say they were merely maintaining the Count's title, which had been earned by the exceptional achievements of their ancestors.
Yet even such a modest Count's House had one quality that endeared them to their subjects: the unwavering integrity of Count Ragnar von Veilain.
"Ugh... If that bastard becomes Head of House, I'm quitting the guard. He'll definitely find petty excuses to torment everyone."
"Looks like the end of House Veilain. Count Ragnar was such a good man."
They lamented the loss of the late Count, now a figure of the past, and bemoaned their fate.
The difficulty of their duties depended more on the temperament of their master than the labor itself. It was clear as day that if Baron Ludicain became their lord, the harshness of their work would multiply several times over.
Just then, a man and woman approached them.
"Wait a minute! Agron, do you even know where we are?!"
"Of course I do. That's why I came."
"This isn't a place anyone can just walk into!"
"Don't worry, I'm qualified."
"Being a Chief is high rank, but it doesn't mean you can just talk to the Lord!"
"Hey! Who are you people?!"
One of the guards shouted, brandishing his spear threateningly.
On days like today, when many distinguished guests visited, beggars sometimes came, mistaking the occasion for a feast.
The man and woman standing before them were no different.
The woman's clothes were torn and covered in dirt, her hair a tangled mess as if she'd been rolling around somewhere. The man's attire was so bizarre it defied description.
"Don't you know what day it is?! You filthy beggars! Get lost before you get a beating!"
"P-please forgive me...! I'm Luna, Branch Manager of the Kotaru Branch of the Deiron Merchant Guild in the Veilain Fief."
"What? You call yourself a Branch Manager? Don't you know what happens to beggars who try to impersonate someone important?"
"I... I'm telling the truth..."
Luna knew her appearance was no different from a beggar's, so she couldn't argue too strongly.
"I am Agron."
"So what? I'm Owen, you bastard!"
"Strange. Isn't this House Veilain?"
"It is, but a name like that isn't for the likes of you to utter so casually. Shut up and get lost!"
The guard flipped his spear, intending to shove Agron with the butt end.
But Agron didn't passively accept the attack.
Whoosh.
He twisted his body to evade the spear butt, grabbed the spear shaft to throw the guard off balance, and then slapped the guard across the cheek with the flat of his hand.
Crack!
The sound of splitting firewood echoed as Guard Owen collapsed like a bundle of straw.
"This..."
Seeing Owen fall from a mere slap—not even a punch—the other guard stared in disbelief.
"Hey! A barbarian's invaded!"
He sprinted toward the guard post, shouting at the top of his lungs.
He knew he couldn't handle this alone.
"Agron! Run while you can! Causing trouble for the Count's House means certain execution!" Luna pleaded, tugging urgently at his arm.
She had followed him, worried when he said he had business to attend to. Instead, he had brazenly declared "This is my home" while staring at the Count's mansion, and then used force against the noble guards.
At this point, even she could be punished for merely being present.
If Agron hadn't saved her life, she would have abandoned him and fled long ago.
"Why should I run from my own home?" Agron retorted.
"I don't know what you're talking about, but this isn't your home! It's the Lord's mansion for this territory!"
"As expected, my territory's people know their place well."
"Ugh! What are you talking about?!"
Click.
At that moment, a massive man in partial plate armor appeared in the distance, followed by a group of guards.
"It's too late, you intruders!"
"Ah... I-I'm... the Branch Manager of the Deiron Merchant Guild..."
"Shut up, wench! I am Gunter, Deputy Commander of the Guard. I'll have your heads chopped off and displayed at the city gate!"
Gunter roared, raising his axe—nearly as tall as himself—and pointing it at them.
Agron watched this scene and cracked his neck from side to side.
"Looks like—"
Crack.
His knuckles popped.
"I'll have to teach them some manners toward their master first."
With a chilling voice, Agron scattered icy blue light into the air.
"Surely the guards can handle such a trivial matter as barbarians?"
"Elders, there's no need to worry. Commander Gunter of the guard is on duty today."
"Oh—Gunter? Isn't he the one who defeated three enemy knights during the last Feudal War?"
One of the Council of Elders smiled approvingly at Knight Commander Tank's explanation.
With someone as skilled as Gunter in charge, they could confidently entrust him with the situation.
"Right, where were we...?"
"Just finish the meeting! If the Council of Elders approves, I'll quickly resolve this chaotic situation!"
Sensing something amiss, Ludicain hurriedly interjected.
With time running out, I couldn't stand by and watch the chaotic situation delay our progress.
Damn it! The place where the previous Head of House's son was sent must be—
BANG!
The conference room door burst open as a young man stormed in.
Well, calling him a "young man" might be a bit premature, but there were elements that made people perceive him as such:
His bulging arm muscles, sturdy physique, and the overwhelming aura radiating from his eyes.
Not to mention the wild beast fangs adorning his waist and necklace, and his clothing, which hinted at an unknown cultural origin.
The overall impression he gave was far from that of an ordinary boy.
"What's all this commotion?!"
"What security is this place supposed to have?!"
"Where are the guards?! Why haven't they dragged this impudent barbarian out yet?!"
The crowd surged to their feet, shouting angrily at the intruder.
This was no ordinary place; it was a meeting of the Council of Elders within the esteemed Count's House.
A place where some green-eared whelp couldn't just barge in as he pleased.
At that moment, the youth threw something onto the table.
"This is...!"
It was the crest worn by the House Veilain guards on their chests.
Not just one or two, but over a dozen of them.
"For guards protecting the Count's House, their skills are remarkably poor."
The icy voice startled the crowd, who gasped in surprise.
It was because he spoke the Kingdom language with perfect fluency.
"Who are you?! What does a Barbaroi like you think you're doing here?!"
"Just a barbarian brat! Knights, kill him!"
The Knight Commander roared, and Ludicain, who was seated nearby, joined in with a frantic gesture, barking orders at his guards.
Two knights responded to the command, drawing their swords and pointing them at Agron.
"I'm warning you," Agron said, his gaze piercing the knights like a freezing glare. "If you swing those swords, you'll die."
"Nonsense!"
With a battle cry, the knights charged at him.
Agron swiftly leaped onto the table and lunged at one of the approaching knights, delivering a brutal kick.
The knight crossed his arms to block Agron's attack, but the force was so tremendous that he dropped his sword.
"Ugh!"
Agron kicked the pommel of the knight's sword into the air, snatched it, and plunged the blade into the knight's collarbone.
"Gurgle..."
The knight convulsed, blood frothing from his mouth as his eyes rolled back.
In that instant, another knight swung his sword at Agron's back.
A clumsy attack, fueled by rage at his comrade's death.
Agron spun to evade the strike, simultaneously slamming his elbow into the knight's face.
A sickening crack echoed as the knight crashed against the wall.
Agron didn't stop.
He twisted the knight's arm, forcing the blade he held to point at his own throat.
"W-wait a moment—"
Crack!
As if hammering a nail, Agron kicked the sword blade, sending blood gushing like a fountain as the knight's head was severed.
A crimson silence descended.
"Hah."
A short sigh.
Agron was the only one moving in the chamber.
He tore off the tunic Luna had forced him to wear and used it to wipe the blood splattered across his face and body.
His sculpted, muscular physique and the scars etched across his flesh were immediately visible.
Agron glanced around before settling into the empty high seat that should have been occupied by the Head of House.
Creak.
Despite his brutal act, no one dared to speak.
Having just witnessed two knights slaughtered before their eyes, who would dare open their mouths?
"Hmm."
An icy gaze swept across the faces of everyone in the chamber, from the Council of Elders to the rest of the assembly.
"That damn barbarian bastard...!"
At that moment, the Knight Commander, who had been silent until now, rose from his seat, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.
He must have been overwhelmed by the pressure earlier, only regaining his composure now.
"Sit down, Tank."
"How dare you speak my name so casually... Wait, how do you know my name?"
"Would a lord not know the name of his own vassal?"
"N-no way..."
Every single person in the room stared at the Barbaroi in stunned disbelief.
It was an impossible revelation.
"It's been over a decade. I am Agron von Veilain, the rightful and legitimate heir to this House."
"Lies!"
Before Agron could finish speaking, Ludicain slammed his fist on the table, his face crimson with rage.
"Lies! Members of the Council of Elders, do not be fooled by this Barbaroi impostor! This barbarian is trying to seize control of the Count's House through deceit!"
Agron let out a short sigh and retrieved several items from his bag, placing them on the table.
"Head of House—the signet ring my father gave me, the pendant from my mother, and the letters we've exchanged over the years."
When the Council of Elders and vassals hesitated, Agron gestured for them to examine the items.
"Hmm, these are definitely genuine. They belong to the House."
"These letters were indeed written by the Head of House. It's his handwriting."
"Then this person is truly—"
"I-I! This could all be fabricated! Or maybe he killed the real Agron and is impersonating him!" Ludicain shouted desperately.
House Veilain stood on the final step of transitioning from a collateral line to the direct line.
Yet now, some unknown upstart was trying to overturn everything.
He couldn't tolerate it.
After all the effort it took to seize this opportunity!
"Who are you?"
"You insolent barbarian! I am Baron Ludicain, First in the Collateral Line of House Veilain!"
"Then let me ask you this: what rank does the eldest son of a Count's House hold before inheriting the title?"
"What...?"
Ludicain frowned, glaring at his opponent.
"The answer is Viscount. Consider this your final warning to curb your insolence."
"What did you say, you barba—"
In that instant, Agron lunged forward, his fist shattering Ludicain's jaw.
"My apologies. I suppose I'm a bit barbaric myself."
Agron licked the blood dripping from his fist, baring his teeth in a predatory grin.
📝 Translator’s Note:
You may notice that certain lines or phrases in this novel appear both in their original Korean (or Hanja) form and in English translation.
This is intentional — these phrases are classical idioms, divine titles, or poetic expressions that carry layered meanings.
To preserve their original tone and authenticity, the raw text has been kept for reference, while the English interpretation is provided right before or after it. This helps convey both the literal and cultural nuance of the original work.
but if you guys dont want tha raw for future chapters or my future other novels u can just text me on discord and say so discord name Mr.Penny