The Barbarian of the Count’s Family Is Too Strong

Chapter 26: A Sinister Presence (2)

Agron did not hold back his fists.

His powerful strike pierced through the demon’s face like a ballista, tearing it apart.

The demon twisted its pitch-black body and fought against Agron.

It swung the same attack that had sent Baekun, Elena, and Jacob flying in a single blow.

However, such an attack was nothing more than a mere breeze to Agron.

“The wind feels nice.”

『T-This can’t be…! There’s no way a human exists who can withstand my attacks…!』

“There’s no such thing as impossible. Demons sure lack creativity.”

With an indifferent expression, Agron grabbed the demon’s two arms and kicked its chest.

Crunch!

『Kuaaaagh!』

A horrific tearing sound rang out as both of the demon’s arms were ripped from its shoulders.

Agron held the severed arms like weapons and began to beat the demon with them.

Each strike echoed through the chamber with a heavy, wet thud.

『Kugh! Guh! S-Stop…!』

“You dared to lay hands on my weaker comrades. You must pay the price.”

After discarding the now-mangled limbs, Agron grabbed the demon’s head and twisted it off.

『Y-You… The next time I manifest, I will surely…!』

“A headless thing sure talks a lot.”

Agron clenched his fist and crushed the demon’s skull.

Instead of blood, thick black smoke gushed out, carrying an eerie wail before it dissipated into the air.

Baekun, Elena, and Jacob, who had been watching from afar, were frozen in shock.

There were hardly any humans who could fight a demon on equal footing.

And a human who tore off a demon’s arms and used them to beat it to death? That was beyond belief, an impossibility.

Yet, Agron had torn apart a demon with his bare hands and utterly annihilated it.

They had just witnessed something straight out of myth.

“Demons aren’t much after all.”

Agron dusted off his hands and approached his comrades.

“Old man, did you really cough up blood after getting hit by something that weak?”

“You…”

“Jacob, your front is a mess of blood. How do you plan to serve your master with such skills?”

“……”

“Elena is the only one who fared decently. As expected, northern warrior women are the strongest.”

“That…”

Their emotions were a chaotic mix of anger, despair, and frustration at Agron’s casual remarks.

Of course, Baekun was the one feeling the most anger.

“You brat, that was a demon! A demon! Not some goblin!”

“Huh? It looked pretty similar.”

“The strength is completely different!”

“Huh? Seemed about the same to me.”

“……”

Baekun wiped the blood from his lips and glared at Agron.

“In all my years, I’ve never met a man who fought a demon and killed it! What would you have done if it had been stronger?!”

“Huh? It wasn’t strong at all.”

“No, I mean… just in case…”

“It’s fine. You’re not weak, old man. I’m just strong. No need to feel insecure.”

“Gaaaaah!”

Baekun, furious beyond words, swung his staff wildly, shattering the stones around him.

What made it even more infuriating was that Agron wasn’t mocking him—he was completely serious.

“Why is the old man acting like that?”

“He throws tantrums when things don’t go his way. It’s quite the problem.”

Agron looked at Baekun with pity.

“Master.”

Elena spoke with a sunken expression.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t strong enough….”

“It’s fine. Not everyone can be strong.”

“B-But I am strong! I may be weaker than a Greater Demon, but among Vampir, I’m one of the strongest….”

“Really? I didn’t know Vampir were such a weak race.”

“……?!”

Agron muttered to himself as he recalled something he had read in a book.

However, Elena seemed deeply shaken by his words and sank into a corner, covering her face with both hands.

“Jacob.”

“Y-Yes, Count!”

Jacob had been struggling with how to address Agron and Elena. In the end, Elena instructed him to call her by name while addressing Agron as ‘Count,’ so he followed her orders.

Initially, Jacob had tried to call Agron ‘Master’ as well, but Elena insisted, ‘That’s my right alone,’ and he had to change it.

“They’re both in bad shape, so let’s investigate this place ourselves.”

“Understood!”

Following Agron’s orders, Jacob began searching the area, examining the scattered corpses and magic circles to gather useful information.

As they were deep in their investigation, Jacob suddenly called out from a distance.

“Count! There’s a survivor here!”

Agron quickly rushed over.

A man, impaled through the side by Elena’s spear, was lying on the ground, staring at them with fearful eyes.

“Y-You… Which branch sent you…?”

The man coughed up blood as he stammered out his question.

“Branch? We’re from the Veilain branch.”

Jacob thought, That’s probably not what he meant, but chose not to correct Agron.

“V-Veilain…? T-That’s the Six Fingers’ territory….”

“……?”

“D-Did the Six Fingers send you…?”

“No, the guild—Mmph!”

Just as Agron was about to answer truthfully, Jacob quickly covered his mouth.

Even if they got scolded later, it was more important to play along for now and extract information.

“Yes, we were sent by the Six Fingers. Your branch has become too much of a nuisance.”

“Kugh… I see… So you already knew… that we were the ones summoning the demons…. You must have been the ones who attacked the caravan….”

The man’s face grew paler by the second, his life slipping away.

“What’s your connection to the Magistrate?”

“Cough! Does that… really matter now…?”

Jacob nodded. The man spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva.

“He’s… the one backing us. In return, he let us have… a minor seat under Ananta.”

“I see. You’re about to die. Any last words?”

“N…No. Everything is for the shadow of the world… for Ananta….”

With those final words, the man’s eyes lost their focus.

Agron exchanged glances with Jacob.

“I had my suspicions, but I didn’t think it would be this obvious.”

“Indeed. Let’s finish cleaning up and deal with him next.”

***

Knock, knock.

Felipe, the Magistrate, furrowed his brows when someone knocked on his study door in the dead of night.

“Who is it?”

“I was sent by Ananta.”

A voice responded from beyond the door.

Felipe scowled but soon rose from his seat and opened the door.

This was neither the agreed time nor place for their rendezvous.

“What are you doing here at this hour—Wait, what?!”

His eyes widened in shock.

The cloaked figure before him had brought her—the very woman he had been waiting for.

Elena’s expression was dazed, likely drugged, and she staggered as if she would collapse without the support of the person holding her up.

“This is the woman you requested.”

“Oho—well done! I never thought you’d bring her so easily!”

Felipe licked his lips as he took hold of the woman.

As he leaned in closer, a sweet fragrance wafted from her, tickling his nostrils.

Excitement surged within him, his loins stirring at the unexpected pleasure before him.

“Khh… Tonight won’t be lonely.”

“What should I tell Ananta?”

“Hm? Just tell them thanks. Also, let them know we’ll continue supplying live offerings in the usual safe manner. This time, the girl was too troublesome, so rougher methods had to be used.”

“Understood. Should I inform Yamong, the merchant lord?”

Felipe’s expression twisted with annoyance.

“Damn it, I’ll enjoy her first and inform that bastard later. That’s none of your concern!”

“I see. Very well.”

“Now get lost. I have a delightful night ahead of me.”

“With whose permission?”

A chilling voice escaped the woman’s lips at that moment.

Felipe flinched and turned his head sharply.

Her eyes blazed a vivid crimson, illuminating the dark study.

“W-Why are you awake already?! M-More drugs, bring mo—Kuh!”

Felipe gasped and staggered backward.

He looked down at his stomach.

A sharp pain seared through him, and crimson blood gushed from the wound Elena’s hand had pierced clean through.

“Y-You… crazy bitch… Do you have any idea who I am…?”

Felipe’s complexion turned ghostly pale as he gritted his teeth and glared at Elena.

“You there! What are you waiting for? Cut off this wench’s limbs immediately!”

Felipe barked at the figure outside his door.

His voice was smug and dripping with menace.

“I was going to cherish you, you wretch…! Now I’ll make you scream all night before I slowly rip you apart…!”

The cloaked figure at the door stepped inside and pulled back his hood.

“O-Oh, good! Kill her—”

Felipe’s words cut off as he recognized the man’s face.

A familiar face.

“You… you’re that wench’s ally?!”

“My name is Jacob, Magistrate.”

“You bastard! Do you think you can attack a city magistrate and walk away unscathed?!”

“We are simply following our Master’s orders.”

Elena stepped forward and seized Felipe by the throat.

“Kh… kuh…!”

Felipe’s breath turned ragged, his attempts at speech reduced to weak gasps.

“If my Master commands it, I won’t stop at a mere city magistrate—I would gladly deliver the king’s head.”

Felipe struggled, gasping for air, when another figure entered the study.

For a brief moment, hope flickered across his face.

He assumed it was a servant, drawn by the commotion, coming to his aid.

“Hm, things seem to be progressing well.”

But his expectations were shattered.

The newcomer was yet another one of her allies.

“How did it go, Master?”

Agron unwrapped a bundle he carried and held it before Felipe’s face.

It was Yamong’s severed head.

“H-Hiiiik…!”

“Your comrade spilled everything. How you drugged women, what you did to them after, and which slave traders you sold them to.”

Felipe thrashed in Elena’s grip.

Whether he was denying the truth or merely desperate to escape, it was unclear.

“And you’re a member of Ananta’s cult, aren’t you? Using your position as Magistrate to grant them favors in this city.”

Agron grabbed Felipe’s shirt and ripped it open.

A tattoo of Ouroboros was etched into his chest.

At Agron’s signal, Elena loosened her grip, and Felipe collapsed to the floor, greedily gasping for air.

“Haaah… haah… haah…”

“Feels good to be alive, doesn’t it, Magistrate?”

Felipe coughed violently, glaring at them with what little defiance he had left.

“You… you lowly scum… attacking a merchant lord and a Magistrate without evidence? Do you think you’ll get away with this?!”

“Still running your mouth? Impressive.”

Agron folded his arms and gazed down at him with contempt.

“What’s your rank, exactly?”

“W-What?!”

“This city belongs to the Saltidis Territory, and the lord of Saltidis is Viscount Caron Redik. That means at best, you’re a baronet or a minor baron.”

“Y-You bastard! Show some respect, you filthy Barbaroi!”

Felipe bellowed, his rage flaring despite his dire situation.

Agron clicked his tongue and knelt before him, staring him down.

“I am Agron von Veilain, rightful ruler of Veilain Territory and a Count under the Astrarea Kingdom’s formal feudal contract.”

“……What?”

“I’ll give you two choices, Magistrate.”

Felipe’s eyes darted between them, his confusion evident.

But their unwavering expressions left no doubt that Agron’s words were the truth.

“First, surrender all your wealth, hand over the treasures you’ve stolen from murdered adventurers, and reveal everything you know about Ananta.”

“What nonsense—”

“If you do, you’ll get a proper noble trial. You’ll lose your title, be stripped of your rights, and possibly be reduced to a slave with your family. But at least you’ll live.”

Felipe scoffed in disbelief.

The very idea was absurd.

“Second, you follow Yamong.”

Felipe hesitated, his face going pale.

“W-What…?!”

“For reference, Yamong screamed like a pig for an hour before he finally died. His head was the only thing left intact.”

Felipe met Agron’s burning gaze.

It was not a bluff.

“Do I have the right to kill you? Let me rephrase that—I am a Count, and you threw me into the dungeon’s depths. Is that answer enough?”

Felipe trembled before slowly nodding.

He had no escape.

“I… I’ll take the first choice.”

“Good. You chose wisely.”

Agron seized his opponent’s arms with both hands.

“W-Wait! What are you doing…?”

“You still don’t seem to understand, so I shall perform the ‘Warrior’s Rite.’”

“W-What?”

“Felipe, answer me. Are you a warrior or not?”

Agron’s icy blue eyes blazed with an intensity that threatened to tear Felipe apart on the spot.