The Barbarian of the Count’s Family Is Too Strong

Chapter 8: Prey (1)

Agron arrested several members of the Senate and the city’s guard captain.

They were implicated in Ludikain’s confession as his co-conspirators.

At first, they vehemently denied any wrongdoing, swearing on the name of the gods and the graves of their ancestors.

However, when confronted with Ludikain’s written contracts and confession, they begged for their lives.

Of course, Agron was unmoved by their pleas.

"Do you wish to live?"

"Yes, we do!"

"Then why commit acts that lead to death?"

"W-What…?"

"If you endure well, you might not die. You’ll be crippled, though."

"W-Wait—AAAH! STOP! STOP!"

"A warrior must endure more than this! Hold on!"

"You lunatic! I’m not a warrior! AARGH!"

This exchange repeated several times, each ending with Agron personally conducting the interrogation with an impassive expression.

Ultimately, they admitted to conspiring with Ludikain and following his orders but knew little beyond that.

"Disgraceful. Not one of them lasted beyond five minutes."

Agron washed the blood off his hands in a basin, shaking his head.

A true warrior should withstand such light interrogations.

The city’s officials were alarmingly fragile.

"To think that the captain of the city guard is weaker than a woman from the Winter Wardens. The security here must be dire."

"Indeed, Your Excellency."

Wolf, who had assisted in the interrogation, agreed.

"Even the so-called Senate is at this level… They are too small-minded to be useful. I will need to review the remaining members and adjust their authority."

With disappointment in his voice, Agron exited the prison.

"Your Excellency, what shall we do with them?"

The butler, who had been waiting outside, asked about the prisoners’ fate.

"Confiscate all their assets. Execute the guard captain. Expel the senators from House Veilain, brand their foreheads, and exile them permanently from the territory."

"Understood, Your Excellency."

Some senators might protest, but Agron wouldn’t care.

If necessary, he could claim their failure to protect the Count as justification to reshape the Senate. If they resisted, he could simply execute them all and appoint a new council.

"Ah, Your Excellency. Also, an envoy from the royal palace is en route."

"From the royal palace?"

"Yes. It appears they are coming to formalize the feudal contract."

The Astrarea Kingdom maintained relatively good relations between the royal family and its vassals.

This was because they needed internal unity, surrounded as they were by the Kazandor Empire and the Holy Kingdom of Quarin, both potential threats.

"Is there anything I need to prepare?"

"No, it is a ceremonial procedure. You will only need to change into formal attire and attend the banquet when the envoy arrives."

"I see. Who is being sent from the royal palace?"

"Typically, the Royal Chamberlain handles such matters. The previous Count’s contract was also overseen by the Chamberlain."

Originally, feudal lords were required to visit the royal palace to sign contracts directly with the king.

However, complaints about the distance and inconvenience led to a policy of sending envoys instead.

As a result, some lords never even met their king in their lifetime.

"Very well. I leave all preparations in your hands, Butler."

"Yes, Your Excellency. I will ensure everything is in order."

"How long until the envoy arrives?"

"Approximately three days."

After a moment of contemplation, Agron nodded as if coming to a decision.

"Understood. I will be leaving briefly."

"Pardon? Where are you going?"

"A guest is arriving; I can’t welcome them empty-handed. I will go hunt for their meal."

***

Gallop, gallop.

Under the bright moonlight, the envoy from the royal palace rode swiftly.

"How much farther to Veilain?"

"About two more days, Your Highness."

A golden-haired young man inside an opulent carriage peeked through the side window, questioning the knight riding beside him.

"Tch, why did they send me to some backwater fief?"

The young man grumbled constantly, making life difficult for those around him.

"Your Highness, while it is fine to express such sentiments privately, you must not do so before the new Count."

"I know that, Sir Hunts. Do you take me for a fool?"

"Of course not, Your Highness."

"Tch."

The envoy this time was none other than Lawrence Rubel von Crownguard, the third prince of the Astrarea Kingdom.

Normally, the Royal Chamberlain would have handled such matters, but recently, the king had taken to sending his sons instead.

"If it was such a distant fief, they should have sent the fourth prince or one of the princesses. Wouldn’t that have been better?"

"His Majesty must have his reasons for this assignment."

"Oh? So, you’re saying I have no reason or thought of my own?"

"That’s not what I meant…"

"Your choice of words is disappointing, Sir Hunts."

The knight sighed inwardly.

He had hoped to serve the first or second prince, yet somehow, he had ended up with this spoiled brat.

"Your Highness, we should camp here for the night. The horses are tired."

"What?! No! You expect me to sleep on the ground? I demand an inn! Keep riding!"

"There is no telling when we’ll find an inn. We need a fire for warmth and to keep wild beasts at bay."

"That’s their problem, not mine!"

Hunts clenched his fists, resisting the urge to strike his arrogant charge.

"Wolves spotted ahead!"

A scout rushed back with an urgent report.

"Expected, given the wilderness. How many?"

"Approximately twenty."

"More than I thought. Prepare for battle!"

At Hunts’ command, the knights and soldiers drew their swords.

"W-What?! What’s happening?!"

"Your Highness, remain inside the carriage."

"No! You have to protect me! Hunts, don’t leave my side! That’s an order!"

Hunts had intended to position his lieutenant beside the prince while he led the fight.

Gritting his teeth, he obeyed the command.

‘Damn cowardly brat.’

Hunts silently cursed the third prince, Lawrence.

“…Understood, Your Highness. Harkin!"

"You called, Sir Hunts."

"Lead the soldiers and eliminate the wolf pack. I will stay here and protect His Highness."

"Understood, Sir."

Harkin nodded and led the knights forward to engage the wolves.

Hunts kept a firm grip on his sword and torch, carefully scanning the surroundings.

Moments later, growls and the panicked cries of horses filled the air, throwing the camp into chaos.

"H-Hunts! What’s happening?! Let’s run away while we still can!"

"If we flee, the wolves will chase the carriage first. Stay put."

Hunts scowled at Prince Lawrence’s selfishness.

How could he even think of abandoning his soldiers at a time like this?

Then, a soldier fighting the wolves ran toward Hunts, shouting frantically.

"Sir Hunts! There’s a wolf beast!"

"A beast? In this mountain? Are you sure?"

"Yes! It’s three times the size of a normal wolf!"

Some creatures, despite being born as normal animals, could transform into beasts if they lived long enough in areas tainted by dark magic.

If it had been a herbivore, it might not have been a problem—but a carnivore turning into a beast was an entirely different issue.

"Damn! Tell Harkin to retreat!"

"Yes, Sir!"

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

The soldiers were exhausted from traveling all day, and this was not a dedicated beast-hunting unit.

It was merely a light escort force protecting a spoiled prince on a diplomatic mission.

"I’ll go forward and hold it off. You assist Harkin in getting the prince to safety!"

"W-Wait! Hunts, stay with me!"

"Your Highness, at this rate, we’ll all—"

CRUNCH!

A deafening noise erupted as a massive shadow lunged forward, sinking its fangs into one of the carriage horses.

It was the wolf beast.

"AAAH! I-I’m going to die! Save me!"

"Damn it, protect the prince!"

Hunts roared, slashing at the beast.

But his unprepared attack was easily blocked by the creature’s razor-sharp claws.

"Damn! Get Harkin here, now!"

"He’s still fighting off the wolves at the front!"

"Damn it all…!"

"AAAAAH! Save me first! ME FIRST!"

Hunts gritted his teeth as Prince Lawrence shrieked inside the carriage.

If he dragged the prince outside, his garish clothing might attract the beast’s attention. But leaving him there unattended would invite accusations of neglect.

‘How do I even save this fool…?’

Just then, a large shadow leaped onto the beast’s nape.

"Who the hell—?"

Suddenly, the beast thrashed wildly, letting out a pained howl as it rolled violently on the ground.

"……"

Hunts witnessed it clearly.

A man clung to the wolf beast’s neck, mercilessly stabbing its throat, eyes, and ears.

Time passed.

The man, drenched in blood, finally wrenched his dagger free from the beast’s eye socket and stood up.

Gulp.

No one dared to speak.

The man looked more beastly than the creature he had just slain.

"Ugh…! H-How dare you not save me first?!"

At that moment, Prince Lawrence stumbled out of the carriage, shaking.

"H-Hunts… W-Who is that beastly man?!"

"I don’t know, Your Highness. He appeared out of nowhere and saved us."

"You! How dare you, you savage! Do you know who I am?!"

Hunts barely resisted the urge to silence the prince.

Revealing his identity to an unknown warrior in the wilderness was beyond reckless.

"I just got here. How would I know?"

The man responded nonchalantly.

"Y-You should recognize me at a glance!"

"Oh? Then who am I?"

The man stepped toward the prince.

Despite taking only a single step, Hunts felt the sheer weight of his presence.

"H-How should I know?!"

"Didn’t you just say one should recognize important people instantly? Why don’t you know me?"

"T-That’s… Because I am… special…"

As the distance closed, Lawrence shrank back, his voice faltering.

Hunts stepped between them, raising his sword.

"Stop. This is His Highness, Lawrence Rubel von Crownguard, the third prince of Astrarea. Do not come any closer."

"A prince? What’s a prince doing in this remote land?"

"He is here to establish a feudal contract with the new Count of Veilain."

The man chuckled darkly.

Then he turned to an old man who had been following him from a distance.

"Old man, looks like our meal found its rightful owner."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hunts frowned, glancing between the two strangers.

The blood-soaked man wiped his face with his hand, revealing a sharp grin.

"I am Agron von Veilain, the new Count of this land."