The Barbarian of the Count’s Family Is Too Strong

Chapter 11: Guild (1)

Agron wandered around the village and soon encountered goblins without much difficulty.

"Aah! Someone, someone please help!"

A girl, younger than Agron, clung to the person who seemed to be her older brother, wailing.

The sight of dozens of goblins ravaging the people and mercilessly slaughtering them was far from pleasant.

"Filthy vermin."

Agron drew his longsword, spurred his horse, and instantly pierced the head of the nearest goblin.

Kwaduk!

The blade burst through the goblin’s skull, spraying blood across the ground.

Yet, despite their comrade’s gruesome death, the goblins didn’t even glance at the new adversary.

They were too engrossed in their sadistic slaughter, toying with their victims in twisted amusement.

Agron charged forward like a raging bull.

His longsword swept out in a wide arc.

Puh-buh-buh-buh-buk!

In an instant, four or five goblins were cleaved in half, their bodies exploding apart.

"Die, all of you."

If the massacre had previously been the goblins preying on humans, from this moment onward, it was humans—no, a human—massacring goblins.

Agron, filled with wrath, cut through the goblins with ruthless precision, sending blood and entrails flying in all directions.

Kiiik!

Yet the goblins did not flee.

To them, Agron was nothing more than an ordinary human without proper armor.

Armed with crude swords and stone axes, the goblins lunged at Agron's horse.

Kyagagak!

But not a single attack landed.

His longsword moved fluidly, parrying every strike from all directions before slicing through the goblins' torsos, splitting them in two.

Before long, not a single goblin remained alive.

Agron swung his sword to shake off the blood and gore.

In that moment, however, the blade snapped clean in half.

"Tch, kingdom-forged swords are worse than toothpicks."

His sheer strength had proven too much for the weapon to handle.

Just then, the villagers approached him, expressing their gratitude.

"Th-Thank you. Thank you so much..."

"Thank you, sir knight."

Though Agron’s attire was unfamiliar to them, they instinctively assumed he was a knight due to the expensive horse he rode.

"Hmm."

Agron gave a brief nod before turning away.

If goblins were here, then trolls must be on the other side.

‘The old man is there, so there shouldn’t be a major problem… but I have a bad feeling about this.’

Agron kicked his horse’s flank.

After galloping for a while, something strange entered his vision from a distance.

"What the hell is that?"

It was an odd-looking creature, as if someone had mashed a filthy pig and a bear together into a grotesque lump.

"Didn’t they say it was a troll? That just looks like a hairless bear."

Agron tugged at the reins, intending to charge at the monster, but the eerie wailing sound it made spooked his horse. Annoyed, he decided to run there himself.

His speed was nearly on par with his mount.

The creature was massive, almost the size of a small house, but Agron did not hesitate.

He tensed his thighs and calves, then leaped off the ground.

Like a thunderbolt striking from the heavens, he brought his hand down in a chopping motion.

Baga-aak!

Agron’s hand shattered the troll warrior’s skull and dug deep into its neck.

He didn’t stop there—thrusting his other hand into the wound, he ripped the monster apart with sheer force.

Krrk...

The creature gushed blood from its bisected upper body before collapsing to the ground with a thunderous thud.

"Hmm? Why are you bawling like a little girl?"

Agron, stepping off the corpse, glanced at Lawrence.

"W-What? Who said I was crying?!"

"Wipe the tears off your cheek before you talk. Was it that sad to see the monster die?"

"......"

When Lawrence didn’t answer, Agron frowned slightly and continued.

"Oh, wait. Did I kill someone you knew…?"

"How the hell would I know?! No, you bastard!"

"Then why are you crying like a three-year-old brat?"

"T-That’s…!"

Lawrence hesitated, scrambling for an excuse.

There was no way he would ever admit that he had cried out of fear.

"A-Actually… it was the wind…"

"Forget it. Now that I think about it, I don’t really care."

‘Son of a bitch.’

Ignoring Lawrence's glare, Agron approached the fallen beast.

Baekun was already there, inspecting the corpse.

"Are you unharmed, old man?"

Baekun blinked at him in disbelief.

"Thanks to you, I’m perfectly fine. But how exactly did you kill this thing?"

"I tore it apart with my hands."

"That’s not what I meant… Never mind. You’re the real monster here."

"Calling me a monster just for killing a hairless bear?"

"...That’s not a bear. That was a troll warrior."

Did this fool not even realize what he had just killed?

"Huh? This thing?"

"Yes. It’s a terrifying high-end monster. Killing one in a single blow… You should be proud, Agron."

"I’m always proud of myself."

"…Maybe tone it down a little."

"No thanks. A warrior lives on pride."

"......"

Baekun glared at him as if he wanted to kill him.

Just then, Hunts approached, carrying Harkin over his shoulder.

"H-How on earth… How did you kill this monster?"

Hunts, Harkin, and the other knights, all deathly pale, turned to Baekun for an explanation.

They had just fought this beast.

No one knew better than them just how absurdly strong this troll warrior was.

"C-Captain… The troll warrior is split in half… vertically."

"Did it get struck by lightning…?!"

"No, Agron took it down."

"What?! T-The Count himself?!"

Hunts and the others had been unconscious, so they hadn’t seen Agron in action.

"How did you kill it, my lord? Did you use magic?"

"No. I did it with my bare hands."

"…Excuse me?"

"With my hands, like this. Try it, it’s easy."

Agron flexed his blood-soaked hands, demonstrating.

But no one could comprehend what they had just heard.

One knight approached the corpse and attempted to tear off a piece of flesh with his hands.

"Nngh! Uugh! Huff, it won’t budge."

It was like trying to rip apart thick, rubbery steel.

The knights were utterly stunned by Agron’s monstrous strength.

‘He’s… not human…’

‘He tore a troll warrior apart? Who’s the real monster here?’

***

The corpse of a monster is valuable.

Goblins were mostly useless, with little worth salvaging, but trolls were a different story.

Moreover, this wasn’t just any troll—it was a high-end troll warrior, making its remains immensely valuable.

"It will probably fetch an even higher price."

Hunts, now recovered, remarked.

"Normally, they have to be burned until their regeneration ceases, but this one hasn’t been scorched at all. Plus, its heart is intact."

"I agree. The heart and blood of a troll are highly valuable. Wizards and alchemists would pay a fortune for them."

Baekun had already collected enough blood for his research, so he had no great interest in the corpse itself.

He wasn’t an alchemist to begin with.

"Is it really worth that much?"

"Of course, Your Highness. Even royal magicians would covet such a specimen. It’s not something one can easily acquire."

"Then why don’t we just buy it ourselves?"

Lawrence asked, taking a big bite of his dessert.

"Uh…"

"What? Is that a problem?"

"No, actually, it’s a brilliant idea. His Majesty would likely approve as well."

"R-Really? Then let’s buy it right away! Agron, sell it to me!"

"No."

"Yeah! Wait… What?! No?!"

Lawrence’s voice shot up in pitch at the unexpected response.

Wasn’t this the kind of situation where the answer was usually ‘yes’?

"Why not?!"

"A warrior only shares spoils with those who fought beside him. You did nothing but cry. You are no warrior."

"T-That’s because… I don’t know how to wield a sword…"

Lawrence muttered petulantly, but Agron ignored him.

Baekun, watching the exchange, shook his head and whispered to Hunts.

"Count, sir."

"What is it, Hunts?"

"May I buy it instead?"

"You?"

"I fought alongside you, did I not?"

"Hmm, in that case, I don’t mind selling it to you."

"What?! So I can’t, but Hunts can?!"

Lawrence shouted, completely flabbergasted.

"Hunts is a warrior who fought with us, so he’s entitled to the spoils."

"But if Hunts buys it, it’s basically the same as me buying it! So why can’t you sell it to me?!"

"It’s a matter of principle. I don’t want to be the kind of man who sells spoils to a coward. Now hand over the money to Hunts, coward."

Lawrence trembled with frustration but pulled out a pouch of gold and handed it to Hunts.

Hunts, glancing at his master, obediently passed the gold to Agron.

"Hmm. A good deal."

"Good my ass. What kind of nonsense is this…"

"The deal’s done. Now leave."

‘This bastard…’

Agron ignored Lawrence’s grumbles and headed to his office.

Inside, the head butler, tax collector, scribe, and the knight commander were already waiting for him.

"Sit."

"Yes, my lord."

Agron gestured for them to take their seats.

"How is the investigation on the administrator going?"

"We are thoroughly interrogating witnesses. There are multiple suspicious circumstances, and we are uncovering evidence of embezzled taxes."

"Why was this unnoticed until now?"

Everyone fell silent.

Regardless of rank, they had all observed the new lord’s distaste for excuses.

Reading the room, Agron spoke again.

"I am not here to reprimand you. I simply want to ensure this does not happen again."

"Apologies, my lord. If I may offer my humble opinion, it happened because a single individual was given too much authority over vital matters."

"Go on, tax collector."

"In most places, critical finances—such as tax collection and estate revenue—are cross-checked by multiple individuals. However, the previous lord trusted the administrator and granted him extensive authority."

The tax collector chose his words carefully, wary of any implications of disrespect toward the former lord.

"I see. What is your recommendation?"

Agron’s tone remained calm and indifferent.

"For tax and revenue matters, I suggest that the head butler, the scribe, and I review them together."

"Very well. And I will conduct the final review myself."

The retainers felt relieved, though also anxious.

They had witnessed Agron’s mathematical prowess before.

‘We absolutely cannot afford to make calculation errors anymore.’

They exchanged glances, silently vowing to be meticulous.

"Tax collector."

"Yes, my lord."

"Reduce taxes in the Lephen region for the next six months due to the troll attack."

"Understood."

"Wolf."

"Yes, my lord."

"Send soldiers to patrol Lephen and conduct a full sweep of the area."

"As you command."

Wolf placed his fist over his heart in a knightly salute.

"The head butler and scribe will allocate thirty percent of the troll sale proceeds to the village chief for funeral expenses. Also, post a recruitment notice for workers to repair the damage in Lephen."

"Understood, my lord."

"That concludes this meeting. Dismissed."

The retainers were silently impressed.

It was rare for a lord to offer any compensation to victims of a disaster.

For Agron to allocate a portion of the troll’s sale to cover funerals was unprecedented.

They left the office with the firm belief that Agron would be a remarkable head of House Veilain.

"Things are going to get busy."

The head butler chuckled, patting his shoulder.

"Indeed. The new lord is quite unlike any other."

"The tax collector should be the most nervous. The lord’s arithmetic skills are no joke."

"Ha! And the scribe should be wary too—didn’t he forget a land tax clause last time? We’re all in trouble."

The retainers laughed as they returned to their workspaces.

***

Knock, knock.

"Come in."

Baekun, who was crafting talismans in his room, responded loudly to the knock.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, it’s you. I’m making talismans—just in case they’re needed."

Through the recent battle, he had come to understand his role clearly.

Supporting Agron and assisting those whose lives were in danger.

"I see."

"So, what brings you here?"

Baekun set down his brush and asked.

"Fighting that hairless bear made me realize something."

"That wasn’t a bear… but never mind. What did you realize?"

"I enjoy fighting."

"……"

It wasn’t exactly a revelation, but Baekun found himself momentarily speechless before closing his mouth again.

"So, I’ve decided to join the Adventurer’s Guild."

"The Adventurer’s Guild? Why?"

"If I take on missions there, I can see the world and engage in combat at the same time."

"Oh—now that does sound like a solid plan."

Unlike other barbarians, Agron dreamed of traveling the world, comparing the knowledge he gathered from books with real-life experiences.

For him, the battle with the troll warrior wasn’t just a fight—it was an exhilarating encounter.

"Does it sound like a good plan to you?"

"Of course. It’s an excellent idea."

"That’s a relief. Get ready, then. Let’s go."

"Go where…?"

"To register at the guild, of course."

Baekun suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of fatigue, rubbing his nose bridge with his fingers.

"And why exactly do I need to prepare?"

"Because you’re joining too."

"Why would I…?"

"Huh? You always say that vassals are meant to be put to work."

"You go fight! I don’t enjoy fighting!"

"Hahaha. You make great jokes. You’re literally making talismans to use in combat."

"Aaargh!"

Baekun let out a frustrated cry and dashed out of the room, while Agron watched with an amused grin.

"If I had known he’d be this excited, I would have suggested it sooner."