The Northern Grand Duke's Mad Son-in-Law - Chapter 11

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈

Chapter 11: Stone and Magic

──────

“You look a little surprised?”

“Honestly, I am. I didn’t expect you to be Demonkin.”

The woman’s tongue flicked mockingly. The concentration of mana thickened by the second, until Galahad could feel its sticky weight against his skin.

‘She was Demonkin. This is the worst.’

Galahad pretended to be calm, but his heart pounded wildly. Mana raced through him.

The one fortunate thing was that the woman had let her guard down.

Since she knew Galahad was a mage, she couldn’t help but lower her guard.

Demonkin weren’t called mages’ natural enemies for nothing. Their blood itself was mana.

And it was incredibly concentrated mana.

Ordinary magic couldn’t harm a Demonkin. He had to pack in mana with a higher concentration than Demonkin blood. Enough that he would need to smoke about two Mana Cigarettes...

“To be honest, I expected you to be an infiltrator from the Federation. Those bastards are quite diligent too.”

Mana spun even faster. He compressed it through rotation.

Creak.

The excessive compression made a grinding sound. It was a symptom of mana overload. The heavy mana of the North filled him from within.

Galahad glanced behind him.

The stupid-looking man was gone. He was probably waiting outside the door.

Waiting to seize whoever came out alive.

Tap.

A small sound came from near Galahad’s heart. It was proof that Mana Compression had reached its limit.

“So, are you going to beg for your life?”

“Would you spare me if I did?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Then I should beg.”

The woman’s eyes widened, apparently not expecting him to actually beg. Then her smile deepened.

“Ahahaha! What an idiot! Did you really think I’d spare you? You’re cute, aren’t you?”

Her tongue brushed across Galahad’s face. Sharp protrusions along its surface scratched his cheek.

A stinging pain spread through him, but Galahad smiled.

The distance had closed enough. The woman was laughing stupidly, and his mana was compressed to its absolute limit.

‘Now.’

A formless wind flew from Galahad’s hand.

“...Huh?”

In that brief instant, the woman twisted her body.

A long line appeared behind her, and a deep gash was carved into the safehouse wall.

“Damn. I was aiming for your neck.”

Thud.

The woman’s right arm rolled across the floor.

That had been his trump card, and he only got an arm. What a waste.

Galahad sighed quietly.

She had dodged at that instant. Perhaps Demonkin were sensitive to mana. Galahad stored the information away.

“Aaaah! How dare someone like you...!”

“You lied first. I’m angry too.”

“Die!”

The woman violently swung her remaining hand. A condensed, formless force shot out from it.

‘A lump of mana?’

It was a lump of pure mana.

A lump of mana! Galahad’s eyes gleamed. Suppressing his excitement, he spread his fingers. Mana flared between them and expanded. He compressed it as much as he could.

A translucent barrier formed in front of him.

Bang!

Despite its considerable density, the lump of mana easily shattered the barrier and slammed into his shoulder.

Galahad crashed into the wall. A sharp pain shot through his back.

“Urgh...!”

A groan escaped him.

‘She threw mana directly at me. Is this what Demonkin are like?’

He swallowed the saliva filling his mouth.

‘Interesting.’

Then what about this?

“Ignition.”

Galahad muttered softly and snapped his fingers.

An explosion erupted beside the woman’s face. It went off at close range, but all it did was turn her head slightly.

‘Basic magic doesn’t work on her.’

To hurt a Demonkin, he had to compress mana to its limit like before.

He needed to smoke about two Mana Cigarettes, but the woman didn’t look patient enough to wait for that.

“You slippery bastard! Die!”

The woman swung her hand repeatedly. Heavy, invisible attacks shot toward Galahad.

The excitement rising to his head accelerated his thoughts. Uncompressed mana could only stop those attacks for a moment.

‘I need to make it smaller.’

Galahad twisted his hand. He compressed the mana as much as possible, then reduced the spell itself in size.

It was a trick, but it would produce a similar effect. The downside was that its range became far too small.

To use it, he had to be as precise and accurate as a knight’s sword.

The tiny barrier diverted the force, and Galahad twisted his body at the same time.

Whoosh.

The compressed wind nearly burst his eardrums.

The wall behind him shook violently. A large scar was carved into the sturdy wall.

‘One mistake and I’m dead.’

Galahad desperately maintained his composure. Excitement was poison to a mage.

‘I can’t attack this way. The range is too small.’

Once the distance increased, his ability to suppress mana weakened, making it impossible to use offensively.

Perhaps wary of him, the woman didn’t move from her spot. She kept her distance and continued firing formless force at him.

Even deflecting it made his mana twist. A thrilling sensation spread through his fingertips.

Then a stone fell from the ceiling. The woman frowned irritably when it struck her head.

She could brush off magic, yet a mere stone annoyed her. Galahad found it absurd that magic seemed inferior to rocks.

‘I see. If magic is worse than a stone, then I’ll just use a stone.’

Galahad looked around.

The interior of the safehouse was remarkably sturdy. Though the formless force kept striking it, all it did was crack the walls.

Thanks to that, plenty of fist-sized stones lay scattered across the floor.

“Ignition.”

Galahad aimed beside the woman and snapped his fingers. An explosion erupted beneath her.

“You idiot...”

Thinking the spell had missed, the woman sneered.

Then a stone blasted upward from below and struck her face. Her head turned as though she had been slapped across the cheek.

“You bastard...!”

Venom filled the woman’s expression.

Galahad snapped his fingers repeatedly. Explosions went off in succession.

Normally, the spells couldn’t have wounded her at all.

This time was different.

“Argh! You stupid mage!”

Annoyance filled the woman’s face as stones poured down on her from every direction.

‘Interesting.’

Galahad was amazed at this new use of magic. That was magic’s charm. Its applications were limitless. How could he not love it?

“Yikes, hold still! I’m adjusting my aim!”

Galahad rolled across the floor as he snapped his fingers.

Casting magic while rolling on the floor. Other mages would have fainted at the sight, but it was everyday life for a field operative like Galahad.

This time, a flying stone struck the woman’s nose. Her movements stopped for an instant.

Her prominent nose crumpled, and blood streamed from it. Her expression twisted into something demonic.

Her already ugly face became even uglier.

Just as Galahad was about to tell her she would get wrinkles...

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

The woman swung her hand. Formless force burst out wildly.

Its intensity was incomparable to before.

‘Good grief...’

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The formless force exploded all around him. It was an invisible disaster.

The ceiling shook, the floor split, thick lines were carved everywhere, and everything broke apart.

The moment even one struck him, it was over. That was beyond anything a barrier could block. Every hair on his body stood on end.

He focused so hard that blood vessels burst in his eyes.

The woman’s hand stopped. Perhaps it had strained her as well, because she was breathing heavily.

The surroundings had been reduced to ruins. Every one of the lovely stones had turned to dust, leaving no trace behind.

She had destroyed every stone. It was a truly crude yet effective method.

“What can you do now?”

Having regained her composure, the woman grinned. Her face was full of confidence.

Suppressing his despair, Galahad thought,

‘What can I do now?’

His mind raced. He remembered what had happened with that perverted lord. He also remembered Adrianna’s electrifying hand.

He still had no idea how to recreate Adrianna’s method.

Then the perverted lord...

‘Ah, I have that.’

Galahad’s gaze settled on one spot.

A new method came to him.

It looked like it would be quite fun.

* * *

‘I’ve been wounded by magic.’

Karntula, a Demonkin, bit down on her lips.

Losing an arm to magic was something she would be mocked for her entire life if the other Demonkin heard about it.

‘I nearly died.’

If not for that momentary premonition, her head would have been cut off.

For a mage, he was extremely troublesome. Cutting off her arm and attacking her by launching rocks with strange magic had both been unexpected.

Still, he was a mage, and she was Demonkin.

No matter how he struggled, the outcome had been decided from the start.

Karntula didn’t let her guard down. He was the one who had cut off her arm.

Keeping her distance, Karntula methodically beat him down.

Before long, he staggered. He looked pathetic. He was covered in dust and mud, with punctures and scratches all over his body. It was a wonder he was still standing.

“I’m getting tired of this.”

She had only struggled because his methods were strange. Losing her arm at the beginning had simply been the result of carelessness.

She lightly swung her hand, but he failed to dodge. He fell backward in an ugly heap.

The man struggled to rise, but perhaps he lacked the strength and fell again.

The sweet scent of blood made Karntula dizzy.

“You’re quite impressive. You’re a mage, yet you pushed me this far. Amazing.”

She meant it. Strange methods or not, a mage giving Karntula this much trouble was impressive.

The man lying on the ground coughed up blood. He looked ready to die at any moment.

‘It’s over.’

Only then did Karntula slowly approach.

Watching the twitching man, Karntula licked her lips. Where should she eat him first? His head? Or his legs?

“No, how can you die from this? Hold on a little longer. It tastes better when you’re alive.”

“Sorry, but I’m harder to kill than I look.”

The man laboriously raised his head. Karntula met his gaze and felt a strange disconnect.

‘Those eyes...’

He was clearly cornered, but his eyes remained calm.

He raised his hand. A large stone lay beneath it. Somehow, it had been sharpened like a blade.

‘He had this hidden...’

Cute.

Karntula snorted and raised her arm over her face.

“You idiot. How many times are you going to use the same trick?”

Boom!

An explosion erupted. The heat tickled Karntula’s body.

It was only a stone. It couldn’t pierce her arm.

As long as her head stayed intact, Karntula would win.

After sneering for a while, Karntula suddenly felt something was wrong. She felt only heat, not pain.

Perhaps she had been unnecessarily frightened by his eyes. Clicking her tongue, she lowered her hand.

But the man was gone. He had clearly been below her. Had he run away in that condition? Did he think he could escape?

Then she heard a cough behind her. Karntula turned and doubted her own eyes.

The man stood where Karntula had been moments ago.

‘How did he move that fast in that condition?’

The answer soon became clear. The deep burn scars carved into his back explained it.

‘...He exploded magic against his own back and used the recoil?’

He had used the method he had used to launch stones at Karntula on himself.

“Crazy bastard.”

Karntula muttered a curse at his horrifying tenacity.

The man held something in his hand. It was Karntula’s arm, the one cut off earlier.

“I don’t have this kind of hobby, but...”

He raised the severed arm high and squeezed it tightly.

Red blood flowed from the severed end, soaking him completely.

A mage drinking Demonkin blood.

For the first time, Karntula felt fear at the grotesque sight. It was an incomprehensible action.

The blood-soaked man stared at Karntula.

Emotion appeared in his eyes, which had remained calm all this time.

It was...

A suppressed ecstasy.

Karntula took a step back at the clear desire in his eyes.

Only afterward did she realize she had retreated, and her face twisted.

A Demonkin like her had been frightened by a mage.

Then the man swung his hand. The blood on it sprayed in a long line.

The world suddenly rose.

‘...Huh?’

No, Karntula’s eye level had dropped.

Pain came a moment later. Looking down, she saw her feet had been cleanly severed at the ankles.

“...What is this?”

Karntula couldn’t understand what had happened.

Why?

She hurriedly twisted her body and raised her head.

“Ah, it works after all. It’s the method I used before, but your blood has such a high concentration that it’s even easier.”

The man’s voice, calm until now, rose and fell sharply. It was full of unmistakable joy.

He limped toward her. With every step, he muttered to himself and exclaimed in admiration. It was grotesque.

Karntula desperately swung her hand.

The man snapped his blood-soaked fingers.

Horrifying pain erupted from her left arm.

“Oh, when magic and mana of equal concentration collide, magic prevails. Amazing.”

At some point, the man was standing directly in front of her, looking down.

Unlike before, his eyes were no longer calm.

“Don’t give up as quickly as the last one did. Please hold out with everything you’ve got. You’re a real Demonkin, aren’t you?”

“Right?”

The man’s voice was extremely polite.

As though he were sincerely asking a favor.

“What is this...?”

Karntula couldn’t finish her sentence.

The man’s hand covered her mouth.

“Shh. I need to concentrate, so please close your mouth. You talk too much.”

* * *

‘Drinking Demonkin blood temporarily raises my mana concentration. There is a backlash afterward, but it’s manageable. Nothing but good things have been happening lately.’

Galahad muttered to himself about what he had just learned as he opened the door.

The man from earlier stood outside with a sword in hand. A distinct aura clung to the blade. Crude as it was, he too was an Intelligence Bureau agent.

Shock filled his face. He clearly hadn’t thought Galahad would win in the slightest.

It made sense. It had been a mage against a Demonkin.

That mage had just happened to be Galahad.

The sun was beginning to rise. His back felt cool.

No, cold.

Refreshing.

“Are you going to do it?”

The man’s expression turned conflicted. Guilt appeared on his face. Soon, he shook his head.

“No. Well, it was my mistake.”

“A good guy. He won’t live long.”

Galahad muttered dryly.

“Rose was killed by the Demonkin that attacked the safehouse.”

Galahad tossed over the Demonkin’s head he had kept.

Thud! The head rolled across the ground.

With a bitter expression, the man picked up the Demonkin head that had rolled in front of him.

“...Why are you helping me?”

“Everyone makes mistakes. What’s important is not repeating them.”

Galahad coughed quietly. Blood sprayed from his mouth. His head felt a little dizzy. Had he lost too much blood?

“I won’t forget this favor.”

The man said it with determination in his eyes.

A favor? What an idiot. This was a reasonable calculation.

“I’m Handsome.”

“An agent name?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

“You looked like it. I’m Galahad.”

Handsome frowned. It was customary to give your own agent name when the other person revealed theirs. It was like office workers exchanging business cards. Galahad deliberately avoided his gaze.

“It’s gotten too late. I’ll be going. I only stepped out for a moment during a company dinner.”

He waved to Handsome and slowly walked away.

Only after Handsome was out of sight did Galahad disperse the mana he had gathered in his hand.

After walking for some time, he arrived at the tavern. The door was tightly shut.

It seemed he was too late.

A familiar figure stood in front of it.

Damian.

Damian stood with his mouth open, catching snowflakes.

Galahad staggered over and sat beside Damian. His whole body hurt. There wasn’t a single place that didn’t ache. When he leaned against the wall, a small scream escaped him.

“I told you that you would die.”

Damian’s voice was flat. Galahad laughed as though coughing.

“I won’t die from something like this. Did you eat your fill?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. Who paid?”

“The mister with narrow eyes.”

“Gilbert? Ha, he’ll complain again.”

“He said, ‘You bastard, just you wait.’”

Galahad laughed as though coughing. Red blood sprayed from his mouth.

Silence followed.

Galahad’s groan broke it.

“Should I kill you?”