The Barbarian of the Count’s Family Is Too Strong

Chapter 21: The Warrior’s Qualification (2)

“Ugh….”

Wolfgang let out a groan.

In his dream, he was fighting against a massive humanoid beast.

No matter how powerful his attacks were, the beast, which was larger than anything he had ever seen, did not even flinch.

Rather, it almost seemed like it was luring him to attack.

How long had they been struggling like that?

— Kukuku, I like you. Now, I shall take you on in earnest.

Wolfgang felt his mind reel.

He had already been fighting with everything he had.

His stamina had been depleted from the start, and for some time now, he had been holding on purely through sheer willpower.

— Die, Wolfgang.

The beast raised its massive fist, as large as a boulder, and hurled it toward him like an arrow.

— Hi, hiiiiik.

“—Eeeeek!”

Thud.

Wolfgang let out a strangled cry and kicked off the covers, bolting upright.

“Haa… Haa… Haa….”

He blinked. Cold sweat clung to the tip of his chin.

It was a dream.

Wolfgang slowly turned his gaze.

It was a room he had never seen before.

“You're awake?”

Wolfgang flinched and turned his head as if he had been caught hiding from a monster.

Sitting in a chair beside the bed with a straight posture, Agron was looking at him.

“Ah… Your Excellency, the Count.”

“Hm. It’s a relief to see you in one piece.”

“Pardon? Ah….”

At his words, Wolfgang began piecing together his real memories instead of the dream.

He had been fighting Agron at the banquet hall.

It had been a fierce exchange—no, thinking back, it hadn’t been all that fierce.

They had traded blows, but once Wolfgang had exhausted all his strength, his opponent had spoken.

— I acknowledge you as a warrior. Now, shall we truly begin?

Right after that, a solid iron fist had come flying toward him.

That was where Wolfgang’s memory ended.

“I… I passed out?”

“Your jawbone was shattered.”

“…What?”

Wolfgang paled and quickly checked his jaw.

The bone under his fingertips felt exactly as it should.

“Fortunately, we have an excellent Taoist and a vampi—hm, a blood transfusion expert who mended it seamlessly.”

“Ah, thank you….”

“I didn’t expect you to end up like that from a single punch. I wasn’t even using my full strength. You have my apologies.”

“…What?”

Wolfgang’s face went blank.

He had given everything he had—his all—until he was completely drained.

Yet, his opponent had only decided to get serious at the very end. And that final punch… wasn’t even at full power?

How was he supposed to process this?

“In any case, I’m glad you’ve recovered well.”

“Um… How long have I been unconscious?”

“The banquet ended the day before yesterday. Technically, this is your third day waking up.”

Wolfgang ran a hand over his now-rough stubble, trying to come to terms with this nightmarish outcome.

For the first time in his life, he had lost in a physical fight.

Completely and utterly.

Strangely, I don’t even feel frustrated.

Wolfgang felt oddly relieved, yet at the same time, regretful. And beyond that, he was intrigued.

Just how strong was this man?

“Your Excellency.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“If this had been a real battle, and Your Excellency had fought with your full strength… how do you think you would have defeated someone like me?”

“Hm….”

Agron stroked his chin at Wolfgang’s question.

Since he lacked the kind of verbal cunning to sugarcoat things or weave in half-truths, he answered frankly.

“It depends on the situation. But if it were real combat, I’d have crushed your skull in my grasp.”

“…What? Is that even possible?”

“…Would you like me to show you?”

In an instant, a savage and ferocious aura erupted from Agron’s entire being like a wild beast.

His eyes gleamed with an icy, razor-sharp light.

Wolfgang's body trembled uncontrollably before he tumbled off the bed.

Ah, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die…!

He had never felt such raw killing intent and terrifying bloodlust in his life.

Just then, Agron retracted his aura and approached Wolfgang, helping him up.

“Did you get a taste of it?”

Wolfgang nodded vigorously.

He had essentially just died.

If Agron had truly intended to kill him, Wolfgang wouldn’t have even been able to lift a finger.

He dropped to one knee.

He would never meet another man as powerful as this in his lifetime.

Resolute, Wolfgang set his expression and spoke with solemnity.

“Your Excellency! I, Wolfgang von Wolfert, shall henceforth fight at the vanguard beneath your banner and dedicate my life to you!”

“Hm.”

Though the declaration was sudden, Agron remained unfazed and responded.

“I, Agron von Veilain, shall cherish you as my own life and, as your lord, promise to always treat you with due honor.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency!”

“And now, for the other rite.”

“…Pardon?”

Agron knelt on one knee as well, placing a warm hand on Wolfgang’s head before bringing his forehead to touch his.

“I, as a great warrior of the Snowridge Labyrinth and inheritor of the blade of the ‘Silent Storm,’ acknowledge you as a fellow warrior.”

“…?”

“Hm. It is done.”

Agron rose to his feet with a satisfied smile.

“What was that just now?”

“It means that I have acknowledged you as a warrior.”

Wolfgang felt his heart swell, and before he knew it, tears welled up in his eyes.

A knight's greatest joy was meeting a lord who recognized them.

Agron plucked one of the sharp fangs from his necklace and handed it to Wolfgang.

“If you ever encounter the warriors of the North… or as they are called here, the Barbaroi, show them this fang and speak my name.”

“Y-Yes, understood.”

Still dazed, Wolfgang responded and resolved to treasure the fang.

***

A peculiar rumor recently spread across Astrarea Kingdom.

“My lord, have you heard the news?”

At a gathering, nobles who had attended the banquet formed small groups and began discussing a story that had been making the rounds.

“What news? Are you talking about Viscount Goline’s affair?”

“Oh, please. That’s hardly newsworthy. I mean the one about Baron Wolfgang losing.”

“What? Baron Wolfgang? The reigning wrestling champion of the kingdom?”

“And not just that. He’s also the most decorated champion in no-holds-barred combat tournaments.”

There wasn’t a single noble in the central region who didn’t know Wolfgang’s name.

Though it wasn’t a field of honor or pride like knighthood, combat sports were still a favored pastime among nobles.

“Wolfgang is the kind of man who wins even in a two-on-one fight… Who could have possibly defeated him? Don’t tell me it was the champion of the Kazandor Empire?”

“That’s precisely why people are in such an uproar. His opponent was none other than a count of our very own kingdom.”

“Ridiculous! That’s a blatant lie!”

Those hearing it for the first time dismissed the claim as nonsense.

It was simply inconceivable.

“Tsk, it’s true. Just ask Viscount Alfonso—he was there himself.”

“Viscount Alfonso, is this true?”

“Yes, it is.”

Alfonso proceeded to recount every detail of the banquet he had attended, leaving nothing out.

As the story grew more intense, more nobles gathered to listen, and soon enough, Alfonso found himself standing at a podium, addressing the crowd.

“…At that moment, Count Agron’s fist swung, and Baron Wolfgang was sent flying several meters before crashing into a wall and collapsing.”

“Oooooh—”

“That’s insane. Absolutely insane.”

“This is beyond belief.”

The nobles forgot their dignity and openly expressed their astonishment.

It was as if they were listening to an ancient myth or a heroic legend—it sent shivers down their spines.

“So what happened next?”

“Everyone was so stunned by the spectacle that they were left speechless. Who would have ever imagined that Baron Wolfgang could be sent flying like that?”

“At that moment, what appeared to be Count Agron’s trusted aides rushed to Wolfgang’s side. One was an elderly mage dressed in exotic robes, and the other was… ahem, the most beautiful woman anyone present had ever laid eyes on.”

Alfonso’s face turned slightly red at that part.

In truth, every man in attendance had been so captivated by the woman that they had barely spared Wolfgang a glance.

The sight of alabaster skin peeking through a deep crimson dress, golden hair flowing like silk, and piercing red eyes and lips had left the men utterly entranced.

“In any case, Baron Wolfgang’s jaw seemed to have been shattered—his lower face was covered in blood.”

“Wow—Incredible!”

“Does that mean the Count is the new champion now?”

“You fool! Do you think a noble of such esteemed lineage would participate in such a lowly sport? This was a proper duel between nobles.”

“I would very much like to meet him. To think there exists a man who could best Wolfgang…”

The nobles, unable to contain their excitement, continued their lively debates.

Similar discussions took place at every noble gathering, and before he knew it, Agron had become a rising star among the central nobility.

***

Agron attempted to settle his payment with Luna, but she adamantly refused.

She had already received so many advance payments and banquet contracts from the nobles that she had not only covered any losses but had profited significantly.

Instead, she requested something else.

“There’s no need to pay me. Please, just allow me to handle all of your future banquets.”

“Are you sure that’s enough?”

“Of course! As long as Your Excellency permits it, that would be the greatest reward I could ask for.”

“Hmm… Very well. I’ll entrust you with all my future banquets.”

“Thank you! On behalf of Deiron Trading Company, I promise to always give my utmost effort!”

Agron didn’t fully understand her reasoning, but since it was what she wanted, he agreed.

“Hm.”

With Luna’s payment settled and Wolfgang properly treated and sent off, Agron reflected on the events of the banquet.

He wasn’t physically or mentally exhausted. However, spending an entire day in uncomfortable clothes and mingling with those who weren’t warriors had made him restless.

He reviewed the list of attending nobles, compiled by his head butler and scribe, adding his own notes beside each name.

Impressions he had personally gathered from his interactions with them.

“Looks like I’ve truly become a noble now.”

“You have always been noble, my lord.”

Elena sharply retorted while glaring at Baekun.

“Hm, but he’s an old man. Shouldn’t we show some respect?”

Agron’s remark made Elena furrow her brows slightly.

“I have no desire to show respect to anyone but you, my lord. And besides, I am far older than that little brat.”

It was true.

Baekun was somewhere between sixty and seventy years old, while Elena had lived five to six times longer than that.

“I see. Then I shall continue calling him a brat.”

“Understood, my lord.”

Baekun, listening nearby, groaned and approached Agron, lowering his voice as he spoke.

“Agron… You should be mediating, not encouraging this.”

“Hm? But I did mediate.”

“I am an elder! And clearly look the part!”

“Are you saying looking old is the same as being old?”

“No, that’s not what I meant….”

“But she’s five times your age. Can you really ignore that?”

Baekun let out a frustrated sigh.

No matter how old he was, it was still strange to be spoken to informally by someone who looked like a young girl.

“Sometimes, you have to overlook age.”

“A fivefold difference? Is that something to be ignored?”

“Of course! There are times in life when that happens.”

“Hm, understood, Baekun. I’ll give Elena an order.”

“W-What?!”

“What’s wrong? You just said age should be ignored.”

“N-Not between you and me! I meant between me and that woman!”

“Hey, brat! If you speak informally to anyone but my lord, I won’t forgive you!”

“G-Gaaaaaah!”

Baekun clutched his staff and bolted out of the room.

“What’s wrong with that brat?”

“I don’t know. His personality is a bit rough, so try to understand him.”