The Count’s Youngest Son is a Player

Chapter 2

Click.

Stepping out through the small side door, an open terrace appeared before me, offering a wide view of the surroundings.

The garden’s greenery under the warm sunlight and the colorful flower garden were dazzling to the eyes.

Extending my hand, I could feel the slight chill of the breeze brushing between my fingers.

And enveloping my whole body was an odd sensation and a refreshing fragrance—perhaps the traces of dense ‘mana.’

“Connecting via the capsule is on a different level.”

Among the reasons Raul, or rather Bae Dohyun, was able to reach the pinnacle among Connect’s players was his remarkable ‘Sync Rate.’

Whereas the average player’s sync rate hovered around 30%, Bae Dohyun boasted a rate close to 90%.

This allowed him to maintain sharper senses than others, and its impact on combat was absolute.

“90%, my foot.”

But the sensations now were beyond something that could be described simply by sync rate. Even the feelings experienced on Earth seemed like mere child’s play compared to this vividness.

Raul momentarily closed his eyes, savoring the enchanting sensations that he could easily become addicted to.

“Hoo~.”

After steadying his breath, Raul, with his arms folded on the terrace railing, snapped his eyes open.

His previously muddled mind, laden with the sudden blend of memories and concerns over his family’s downfall, felt significantly lighter.

Calmly, Raul pondered the tragic future awaiting the Count Ashton’s household.

The sudden death of the family head.

The eldest son falls in battle against monsters.

The second son goes missing after leaving for training.

And as soon as the youngest son inherits the county, a rebellion happens as if it had been lying in wait.

“That youngest son is me, Raul.”

Yet, that wasn’t the end.

Not long after the count was replaced following the rebellion, the forbidden zone’s barrier opened, and monsters invaded. The county failed to fend them off.

Subsequently, the territory, now occupied by monsters, passed through the hands of players among other forces…

“Hoo. There’s no need to think about what comes after.”

Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, Raul looked down with vibrant eyes.

Beyond the spacious mansion’s garden, the vast county surrounded by several layers of walls could be seen at a glance.

It was hard to believe that this beautiful and grand city would turn to ruins in just three years.

“No, that won’t happen. I’ll make sure of it!”

Bae Dohyun, who had lived his entire life as an orphan—never fully rewarded for his efforts, always exploited by those with possessions—sought a different world in Connect.

However, even there, certain individuals aimed to transform it into a realm exclusive to those with possessions, and facing them alone had its limits.

In what could be considered his third life, he felt more alive than ever.

For the first time, he had a family and a place he could call home. Most importantly, he had hope.

“It doesn’t matter how I returned to the past and became Raul.”

Whether it was regression, reincarnation, or possession, frankly, he wasn’t curious nor interested.

Even if this world was merely an illusion inside a game, it made no difference.

“What’s important is that I’m breathing here, now. Now that it’s come to this, let’s live this life properly.”

Raul stood up from the railing and stretched out his arms.

The small yet vast territory, which seemed graspable if he clenched his fists, gazed at it and tightened his fists once more, reaffirming his resolve.

“I’ll definitely protect it. With the knowledge of the future I possess and the new powers I’ve gained, I can surely do it!”

In that moment, a thick golden aura gushed from Raul’s body, swirling around him before disappearing into the air in an instant.

Some knights patrolling the mansion turned their heads, feeling a strange sensation, but by then, Raul had already concealed himself from the terrace.

* * *

“Ha, ha.”

Raul sheathed his longsword and let out a rough breath.

His right hand, which had been gripping the sword, trembled slightly.

“Seriously, such lousy stamina! Huff, huff.”

Letting out a single sentence left him gasping for breath.

Glancing down at his own fair and smooth forearm, Raul sighed inwardly.

“What kind of swordsmanship prodigy’s body is this?!” Raul couldn’t help but feel truly satisfied the first time he looked into the full-length mirror. After all, the mirror reflected a handsome young boy who seemed like he stepped right out of a movie, smiling brightly back at him.

Moreover, though he was only just 15 years old, he already stood over 175cm tall, and his proportions were so appealing – with long limbs and a small face, he looked simply fantastical.

However, the illusion shattered in an instant.

During the first hour or so of training, the heavens seemed to collapse and his breath threatened to stop – a situation he overcame with sheer willpower more than five times.

What followed was muscle pain that felt like hell, which made him understand why the training instructor had nervously asked him multiple times if he wished to continue.

Recalling his past, Raul realized he had never trained for more than ten minutes a day. Any more, and he would faint from dizziness.

Without the system’s correction, perhaps Raul would have been unable to overcome the physical limits of his body.

“Even so, to think this is the body of a child from one of the kingdom’s top five prestigious martial families? My father and brothers are all masters of swordsmanship. How could they neglect me like this?!” Raul mused, dripping sweat and catching his breath, his face full of discomfort.

A month had passed, and only now had his physical and muscular strength caught up to that of his peers.

Continued training might soon earn him recognition as a proper knight.

“The problem is that soon I have to participate in a match.”

Looking around, Raul noticed dozens of boys, all around 15 years of age like him, warming up with swords throughout the large training field, all of them soon-to-be adults.

The Ashton county held a special coming-of-age ceremony every year. It involved gathering the children of the county and nearby territories for a swordsmanship tournament.

The tournament was not just a festive event.

For those who showed exceptional skill, it was a chance to officially join the county and receive knightly training.

Additionally, reaching the semi-finals offered the opportunity to obtain a recommendation letter for the kingdom’s swordsmanship academy.

The Raul before his rebirth wouldn’t have even considered signing up for the tournament. But now, Raul had a reason he must participate.

“I must get into the kingdom’s academy! Otherwise, I’ll be stuck in the territory with nothing to do for a while.”

His father, Count Melvin, and his significantly older brothers had always been overly protective of the frail Raul.

He couldn’t even leave the mansion, much less venture beyond the castle walls.

For his future’s sake, he had to leave the territory.

As he resolved to secure his place among the top four and snatch that ticket to the capital, a sinister presence loomed behind him.

Whoosh.

“Dodged it, did you?”

Raul narrowly avoided someone attempting to shoulder-check him and turned to face the source of the voice.

In that moment, Raul’s eyebrows twitched.

“Oh. You’ve grown quite a bit, haven’t you? Now you even dare to make eye contact. Don’t have the guts, huh? Bam!”

The person, Dion, his uncle Austin’s second son and thus his cousin, raised his hand as if about to strike.

Surrounded in a manner akin to personal guards were seven other children, all either distant relatives of the county or children from neighboring territories – all from well-to-do families.

Without showing much reaction, Raul calmly faced Dion, who tapped Raul’s shoulder and said, “I told you to stay quiet and out of trouble. What if you get hurt during the match? With your already frail bones, what then? Right? Hahaha.”

“That’s right. You’ve been beaten so much, even your brain’s gone bad. What can you do now? Pfft.”

The surrounding group joined in the mockery.

Slowly turning his head to look at each face, Raul began remembering things he had forgotten.

“Hmm. That one’s wrist, that one’s calf, that one’s ribs…”

His memories started flooding back.

During the joint swordsmanship training sessions, these individuals used sparring as an excuse to bully Raul.

Even after the outcome was decided, they continued to hit Raul with wooden swords, extending the duel and causing injuries – sometimes even fractures or serious breaks.

The instructors and even the Count turned a blind eye, adhering to the Count Ashton’s training principles and motto:

– Train as if in real battle.

– The sacred training ground is equal for all.

– Do not hold anyone accountable for injuries sustained during a duel.

Being the Count’s son did not exempt him from attention or spare him from what the instructors saw as mere child’s play.

“I was such an easy target. Tch.”

While Raul was inwardly scoffing, Dion leaned in to whisper menacingly, “Just mess around a bit and drop out on your own. If you catch my eye this time, it won’t just be a broken bone; I’ll make sure you’re crippled for good. You wouldn’t want to end up bawling in front of the adults, would you?”

With one final pat on the shoulder, Dion and his entourage departed. Raul smirked to himself as he watched their retreating figures, quietly muttering, “Pathetic, really.”

Compared to the foes he had faced in his past life, these novices were barely taking their first steps. Of course, his current condition was even worse than theirs.

“But I can’t just laugh it off. Before they get any worse, I need to put them in their place.”

This gave him all the more reason to focus on the upcoming competition.

Dion, despite his unpleasant demeanor, was the leading contender for the championship. It was possible that Raul would only meet him if he reached the finals.

“The goal isn’t just the semifinals anymore. I’m aiming to win.”

A slight smile formed on Raul’s lips.

* * *

The tournament progressed smoothly.

With over 3,000 participants, preliminary screenings were held, followed by the completion of the group stages.

This narrowed the field down to 32 finalists.

Dion, a strong favorite to win, and his gang of seven had all made it to the main tournament. And, naturally, Raul’s name was also among those listed.

Gambling became legal starting with the main tournament.

It meant that the Count’s family was operating a betting pool to boost the event’s popularity.

Not just the local citizens, but knights and nobles from neighboring territories participated, leading to significant sums of money changing hands, with the Count’s family taking a considerable cut for themselves.

Information and gossip about the finalists circulated in shops and taverns, with self-proclaimed experts selling their predictions for a fee.

Whoosh.

A set of documents was in the grasp of a large hand, resembling a bear’s paw. Flipping through them, the touch appeared surprisingly gentle despite its appearance.

Thud.

After tossing the documents onto the desk, the bear-like man spoke up, “How is he?”

“The young master has finished his meal and retired to his room. Perhaps to rest early due to fatigue…”

Across the desk, a neatly dressed elderly man with graying hair slightly bowed in response.

His white gloves and red bow tie immediately caught the eye.

“Doesn’t seem to be hurt anywhere?”

“No injuries were found. He appears to be quite fatigued from the prolonged matches.”

“That’s good then. You may leave.”

“Yes, Count.”

Clunk.

Left alone, Count Melvin of the Ashton family, again reached for the documents.

“Huh, never would’ve thought.”

He hadn’t imagined his youngest would make it to the main tournament.

Unlike his two older brothers, who took after him, the youngest had inherited his frailty from his mother, hence why Melvin never forced him into sword training.

He was aware his son was being bullied at the training grounds.

Yet, he chose not to intervene, partly to preserve the family’s pride and partly out of respect for Raul’s will.

Nobody had forced Raul to participate in training. Yet, he showed up at the training grounds daily, even if he couldn’t last ten minutes before collapsing.

The same was true for joint sword training. Despite being bullied and injured, he never gave up.

Intervening would not only invalidate Raul’s efforts so far but also brand him a shame to the family.

Seeing his son struggle and get hurt tore at Melvin’s heart, but he could only silently cheer for Raul’s growth from the sidelines.

And now, his son had finally achieved a significant yet small victory after a long and difficult journey.

“I thought he’d just grow up healthy… Haha.”

With the kingdom and surrounding territories showing unsettling activities recently, Melvin had been on edge. But thanks to his son, his shoulders felt a bit lighter.

“After tomorrow’s match, it’ll be good to take a walk together, as a way to congratulate him.”

Just making it to the main tournament was an impressive feat. Even if his son lost tomorrow, Melvin wanted to ensure he wouldn’t be discouraged. If possible, he considered giving him direct sword training in the future.

The wind entering through the window fluttered the papers in his hand.

[Round of 32, Match 6] Analysis

Edmund (Predicted rank: 6) vs. Raul (Predicted rank: 32)

…

Unfortunately, in the Count’s mind, Raul’s defeat seemed almost certain.

(To be continued)