The Barbarian of the Count’s Family Is Too Strong

Chapter 4: Barbaroi (3)

The guards had been on edge all day.

After the deaths of the Count and his wife, the number of visitors to the manor had increased several times over.

From morning until evening, guests arrived without pause, forcing the guards to not only conduct thorough inspections of carriages and individuals but also to verify the identities of all entrants and reinforce security within the estate.

"That noble earlier was a real piece of shit. Acting like he owns the place when he's just a baron."

"Hey, watch your mouth. I heard he's the highest-ranked collateral relative."

"What? Fuck, does that mean he's going to be the new head?"

"Beats me. If that happens, it won’t be him, but his son who takes the position."

"What a fucking joke. Can a Count’s house really accept someone like that?"

House Veilain was not an exceptionally powerful noble house.

They had never expanded their influence into the central regions, nor did they hold enough land to be considered a major lordship.

Their territory lacked any special tourist attractions or commercial value that would bring in a steady flow of gold, and their order of knights was not particularly famous either.

They were, in essence, a rather ordinary noble family, their status as Counts maintained solely due to the remarkable achievements of their predecessors.

Yet, despite that, there was one reason why even a house like theirs was beloved by its subjects: the integrity of Count Ragnar von Veilain.

"Man... If that bastard becomes the head, I’m quitting. No doubt he’ll nitpick and make our lives hell."

"I guess this is the end for House Veilain. Count Ragnar was truly a good man."

They lamented, mourning their late lord.

For the household staff, the difficulty of their work depended less on the workload and more on their master's temperament. If Baron Ludikain were to take over, their working conditions would surely worsen tenfold.

At that moment, a pair of strangers—a man and a woman—approached them.

"W-Wait a moment! Agron, do you even know where we are?!"

"Of course, that’s why I came."

"This isn’t a place just anyone can enter!"

"It’s fine. I have the right."

"You’re a chieftain, sure, but that doesn’t mean you can just walk up and talk to the lord!"

"Hey! Who the hell are you?!"

One of the guards shouted, brandishing his spear.

On days like today, when high-ranking guests visited, it was common for beggars to show up, hoping for a feast.

The two before them appeared no different.

The woman’s clothes were tattered and covered in dirt, her hair a tangled mess as if she had rolled around on the ground. The man, on the other hand, wore something so bizarre it was difficult to describe.

"Do you even know what day it is?! You filthy beggars! Get lost unless you want a beating!"

"I-I’m sorry…! My name is Luna, and I’m the branch manager of the Kotaru branch of [Deiron Trading Company] in Veilain territory."

"What? You, a branch manager? If you’re caught forging your identity, you know what happens, right?"

"I-It’s true…!"

Luna knew she looked no better than a beggar, so she couldn’t argue forcefully.

"I am Agron."

"So what? I’m Owen, you bastard!"

"Strange. Isn't this House Veilain?"

"It is, but that’s not a name someone like you should be speaking. Now shut up and get lost!"

The guard reversed his spear, attempting to shove Agron away with the blunt end.

But Agron didn’t simply take the hit.

Swish.

He twisted his body, dodging the strike, then grabbed the shaft of the spear and yanked, throwing the guard off balance before slapping him across the face.

Smack!

A sharp cracking sound echoed as Owen collapsed like a bundle of straw.

"What the…?"

His fellow guard stared in shock. A single slap— not even a punch—had knocked Owen out cold.

"H-Hey! A barbarian is attacking!"

Panicked, the guard sprinted toward the outpost, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Clearly, he knew he couldn’t handle this alone.

"A-Agron! Let’s run while we can! Causing a disturbance at a Count’s manor is punishable by execution!"

Luna grabbed Agron’s arm, frantically trying to pull him away.

She had followed him out of concern when he said he had business here, only for him to call this manor ‘his home’ and then attack a noble’s guard.

At this rate, she could be punished just for being with him.

Had he not been her savior, she would have abandoned him and fled long ago.

"Why should I run from my own home?"

"I don’t know what nonsense you’re spewing, but this isn’t your house! This is the estate of the lord of this land!"

"You are a subject of my domain, so you know it well."

"Ugh! What are you even saying?!"

Clank.

Just then, a massive man clad in partial plate armor appeared in the distance, leading a squad of guards.

"It’s too late now, intruders!"

"A-Ah… I-I am… the branch manager of the trading—"

"Silence, woman. I am Gunter, vice-captain of the guard. I shall mount your heads on the castle gate."

Gunter raised his massive axe, his eyes burning with malice.

Agron cracked his neck from side to side.

"It seems…"

Crack.

The joints in his fingers popped audibly.

"I’ll have to teach you how to properly address your master."

His voice was ice cold, and an eerie blue light flickered in his eyes.

***

"Shouldn’t the guards handle some barbarian trouble on their own?"

"Elders, there’s no need for concern. The vice-captain of the guard, Gunter, is on duty today."

"Oh— Gunter? Isn’t he the one who took down three enemy knights in the last feudal war?"

At the knight commander Tank’s explanation, one of the council elders smiled in satisfaction.

If it was Gunter, he was more than capable of handling the matter.

"Now then, where were we…?"

"We were concluding the meeting! Elders, if you all agree, I can move quickly to restore order!"

Sensing something amiss, Ludikain hurriedly interjected.

With time pressing, he couldn't afford to be bogged down by distractions.

'Damn it, the last place the previous Count's son was sent to was—'

Boom!

At that moment, the meeting room doors burst open with a thunderous crash, and a young man stormed in.

It might have been too soon to call him a young man, yet there was something about him that made people perceive him as one.

Bulging arm muscles, a solid build, and an overwhelming presence radiating from his eyes.

Not to mention the beast fangs adorning his belt and necklace, along with his unfamiliar attire that defied cultural recognition.

His appearance alone exuded an aura that made it impossible to mistake him for a mere boy.

"W-What is this commotion?!"

"How dare you… in this sacred place…!"

"Where are the guards?! Remove this insolent barbarian at once!"

People sprang to their feet, shouting at the intruder.

This was a meeting of the elder council held within the noble House Veilain—

A place where a mere wildling had no right to barge in.

At that moment, the young man tossed something onto the table.

"This is…!"

It was the insignia worn on the chests of Veilain’s guards.

Not just one or two, but over a dozen of them.

"For a group responsible for guarding a Count’s estate, their skills were pitiful."

His voice was as cold as ice, causing those present to draw sharp breaths.

Because he had spoken in flawless kingdom tongue.

"Who the hell are you?! Do you even know where you are, you barbaroi scum?!"

"He's just some filthy savage! Knights, kill him!"

The knight commander roared, and Ludikain, overcome with panic, pointed frantically at the intruder, ordering his guards to act.

Two knights stepped forward, raising their swords against Agron.

"Consider this a warning."

His piercing gaze locked onto them, sending a chill through the air.

"If you draw your blades, you die."

"Nonsense!"

The knights shouted as they charged.

Agron leapt onto the table and launched himself at one of them, delivering a devastating kick.

The knight crossed his arms to block, but the impact was so overwhelming that he lost grip of his sword.

"Ugh!"

Agron kicked the fallen weapon into the air, caught it, and drove the blade straight into the knight’s collarbone.

"Ghh…!"

Blood foamed at the man’s mouth as his eyes rolled back.

In that instant, the second knight swung at Agron’s back, enraged by his comrade’s death.

A reckless, desperate attack.

Agron spun, dodging the blow while driving his elbow into the knight’s face.

A sickening crack echoed as the knight was sent crashing into the wall.

Agron did not stop.

He twisted the knight’s arm, forcing him to point his own sword at his throat.

"W-Wait—"

Crunch!

A brutal stomp drove the blade through his neck, and blood gushed like a fountain.

A crimson silence filled the room.

"Hah."

A brief exhale.

Agron was the only one still moving in that space.

Tearing off the shirt Luna had forced him to wear, he wiped the blood from his face and body.

His sculpted muscles, marked with scars, were fully exposed.

Scanning the room, he strode toward the vacant head seat where the Count should have been and sat down.

Creak.

Despite his blatant audacity, no one dared to speak.

They had just witnessed two knights slaughtered before their eyes—who would dare open their mouth?

"Hmph."

His frost-like gaze swept over the elders and everyone in the meeting hall.

"You damned barbarian…!"

At that moment, the knight commander grabbed his sword hilt and rose to his feet.

Perhaps he had finally regained his senses after being stunned by Agron’s presence.

"Sit down, Tank."

"How dare you call my name so—wait, how do you know it?!"

"Would a master not know the names of his vassals?"

"Y-You don’t mean…!"

Every single person in the room turned pale as they stared at the so-called barbarian.

Unbelievable.

"It’s been over ten years. I am Agron von Veilain, the rightful and legitimate heir of this house."

"L-Lies!"

Before Agron even finished speaking, Ludikain slammed the table, his face red with fury.

"Lies! Elders, do not be deceived by this barbarian’s tricks! He’s a savage trying to usurp our house!"

Agron let out a short sigh and pulled a few items from his bag, placing them on the table.

"The signet ring given to me by my father, the Count, the pendant from my mother, and the letters exchanged between us over the years."

As the elders and vassals hesitated, Agron gestured for them to verify them themselves.

"These… They are genuine. They bear the house’s insignia."

"This handwriting… It is indeed the Count’s."

"Then does that mean he really is—"

"T-This is absurd! Anyone could have forged those! Or what if the real Agron was killed, and this savage is impersonating him?!"

Ludikain screamed in desperation.

He was only one step away from ascending from a collateral branch to the head of House Veilain.

And now, this stranger had come to overturn everything.

He could not accept it.

How hard he had worked for this opportunity…!

"And who are you?"

"You insolent savage! I am Baron Ludikain, the highest-ranking collateral of House Veilain!"

"Then let me ask you—what is the rank of a Count’s firstborn who has yet to inherit?"

"What…?"

Ludikain scowled, glaring at his opponent.

"The answer is Viscount. This is the last time I’ll forgive your insolence."

"You bastard barbar—"

Agron’s body shot forward, and his fist shattered Ludikain’s jaw.

"Apologies. I am a bit barbaric."

Agron licked the blood dripping from his knuckles, baring his fangs.