WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

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

Chapter 12: Lightning

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“What on earth happened to you?”

Gilbert asked with a sickened expression as he took in Galahad’s miserable state.

“A few things happened.”

“A few things? Did you get treated?”

“It’s fine. Mages are tough. I’ll be better after I shake it off a few times. ...That was a figure of speech. Take your hand off me.”

“I was trying to help.”

“At least try to make your lie convincing.”

Gilbert smacked his lips and sat across from him. Galahad pushed the cold stew toward him.

“This place makes excellent stew. Try it.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.”

“Then give it to Damian.”

Damian promptly took the bowl. Gilbert clicked his tongue softly and looked around.

“Did Hermun attack you?”

“Who’s Hermun?”

“A big idiot who carries around an iron axe.”

“Then no.”

Thanks to drinking Demonkin blood, his condition was not at its absolute worst.

Demonkin blood did not heal wounds, but it stopped the bleeding. It felt like applying Albochil to a wound. It hurt horribly, but it worked.

The problem was that mana raged inside him. The dense mana he had gained from Demonkin blood kept running wild.

It felt as though a vicious dog with its leash removed had gotten inside him. If he lost focus for even a moment, the mana felt ready to explode.

Galahad tried to put a leash on it somehow, but his poor condition made that difficult. All he could do was suppress it.

“What’s that?”

“Something good for the body.”

Galahad tucked the canteen inside his clothing, against his chest. Gilbert narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious.

Then the tavern door burst open with a clatter.

“Why are we meeting at a tavern this early... What?! What happened to you?!”

Gwen rushed over and grabbed Galahad. Her familiarity caught him slightly off guard.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Did someone beat you up?! Who was it?! No matter how unpleasant you are, how could they beat someone this badly?!”

“I won, so calm down. And what do you mean, unpleasant?”

“You don’t have to hide it just because you’re a man! Everyone has a hard time! The other maids bully me too, saying I’m useless baggage because I can’t clean!”

“Isn’t that just a fact, not bullying?”

“No matter how unpleasant you are, how could anyone do something this horrible?!”

“You’ve called me unpleasant twice now.”

Trying to reason with her was pointless. Tears suddenly welled up in Gwen’s eyes as she examined his wounds.

“Sniff... Wait here. I’ll bring a towel to wipe you down.”

She clearly did not believe him at all. Gwen disappeared inside.

Galahad was puzzled. Me, getting beaten up...? Did I really look like that?

“Do I look like someone who gets beaten up?”

“You do look frail.”

“You’re all absurdly burly. In the central region, I was considered pretty big too.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Gwen soon returned carrying a soaking-wet cloth. Even after he told her it was unnecessary, she stubbornly began wiping down Galahad’s body.

“You don’t need to go this far.”

“My pay is ten times higher. I need to work ten times harder.”

“That’s true. Scrub harder.”

“But who’s this child?”

Gwen asked as she wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.

“Ah, this is your junior, Damian.”

“...My junior! Really? Having a junior was my dream!”

Damian dipped his head, and Gwen’s eyes sparkled. She looked as though she had received a gift.

“Are you an orphan too?”

“No. I have a mother. She’s a prostitute.”

“Oh my, that’s a relief.”

Tom arrived shortly afterward.

“Is he my junior too?”

“Private First Class Tom, reporting!”

“Woooow! Two juniors! I finally have juniors!”

Gwen’s shoulders rose proudly as she sat Tom and Damian on either side of her.

Galahad ignored the dizzying conversation beside him and focused on his mana. It was still beyond his control.

‘It would be better to use it all at once.’

It seemed best to discharge the raging mana in one go. Still, since he could not control the force, he would have to use it outside the castle.

It was time to get moving.

Time was not on Galahad’s side.

“We should go see my wife soon.”

Everyone nodded with grim expressions.

* * *

Quite a few soldiers had gathered before the inner castle gate.

They seemed curious about the Special Operations Unit. Laughter broke out among the soldiers as they saw them.

“Isn’t that a maid? Are they taking a maid to the front line? They’re insane.”

“That’s Damian, the one who devours platoons. They say he’s devoured ten platoons already.”

“So that’s the mage captain? Looks like he already got beaten up somewhere.”

Harsh words came from all around.

Galahad casually ran a hand through his hair. Sparks jumped from his fingers. The uncontrollable mana naturally irritated him. He forced it down and examined his unit.

It would not do for them to lose heart over this from the very start.

“They called me a maid! A maid! I guess I really don’t look like a soldier! Because I’m a maid!”

Gwen was delighted to be called a maid, and Damian did not seem to have a thought in his head.

‘They’re completely unaffected.’

Tom’s face had gone stiff, but that did not matter much.

“Since everyone’s looking, I should show them some impressive magic.”

“This isn’t the central region. They see magic as no better than Demonkin filth.”

“If their perception is poor, we should improve it.”

Galahad clicked his tongue at Gilbert’s attempt to stop him. He wanted to discharge this mana.

“Which maggot dares covet Lady Adrianna?!”

A low voice rang out from ahead. It carried so clearly that every word reached Galahad’s ears.

The startled soldiers quickly parted. A massive man approached through the gap.

Perhaps he did not feel the cold, because he wore only enough fur clothing to barely cover his private parts.

His enormous, muscular body was fully exposed and covered in scars. He carried an axe as large as an ordinary person, and strangely, even its handle was made of iron.

His eyes were filled with killing intent as he stared at Galahad. It made Galahad’s skin sting.

“Let me guess. You mean that’s Hermun?”

Gilbert nodded with an uneasy expression.

“Yes, that’s Hermun. He’s from the First Battalion, and his loyalty to Lady Adrianna is excessive. Once, he pulled out the tongue of someone who made lewd remarks about Lady Adrianna.”

Pulled out their tongue. Horrifying.

“But why is that man glaring at me?”

“Are you seriously asking?”

“Ah, because I’m going to marry her? What ugly jealousy.”

“You said that too loudly.”

“Yoooou bastard!”

Hermun slammed his axe into the ground.

Boom!

The roar sounded as though a bomb had gone off.

“He’s incredibly strong.”

“Is this the time to admire him?”

“You have to recognize others before you can be recognized yourself.”

Galahad coughed softly. He was pretending to be relaxed, but irritation was beginning to rise.

“This isn’t the time to joke around. Hermun is a recognized powerhouse in the First Battalion.”

Bang!

Hermun struck the ground again with his axe. Several soldiers lost their balance and fell. It was absurd strength. Had that bastard eaten Demonkin tendons or something?

“Gilbert! Move aside! Are you protecting an Imperial bastard?!”

“It is His Highness the Grand Duke’s order.”

“I don’t care! I’ll take responsibility, so move!”

Gilbert turned to Galahad. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you considering it?”

“Hmm, no.”

“Good. This worked out nicely. I was just about to take a piss.”

“It’s dangerous.”

At Gilbert’s serious warning, Galahad scratched his cheek.

Dangerous...? For me? Against that half-naked primitive with an iron axe?

Galahad let out a disbelieving laugh.

“I’ve been wondering for a while, why do people here look down on mages?”

He was genuinely curious.

It was natural for Demonkin to look down on mages. Demonkin were effectively mages’ natural predators.

But even tavern thugs here looked down on mages. He could understand hating mages, but he could not understand dismissing them.

It was unimaginable in the central region.

“Because mages are weak in combat.”

“What kind of mages have you people even seen? Though if a mage crawled all the way to the north, I can see their level.”

“.........”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ahem.”

“I didn’t crawl here. I was dragged here.”

“Yes, I know. Still, didn’t you struggle even against that lord?”

“That was because he was Demonkin. Demonkin are a bad matchup for magic.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Perhaps to show off his strength, Hermun kept hammering the ground with his axe. The soldiers answered with jeers and cheers.

“This won’t do. I’ll have to lead the way in improving their perception of mages. I’ll show those ignorant fools how terrifying mages are.”

“Will you be alright?”

“I’m the captain. You know the captain is supposed to be the strongest, right?”

“...Your condition is a mess.”

That was true. The bleeding had stopped, but he had lost a lot of blood, leaving him dizzy, and his mana was rampaging. Still...

“With one finger, I can beat a half-naked primitive with an iron axe.”

Galahad stepped forward and slowly inspected the primitive.

He was not covered in aura, nor was he wearing leather armor.

‘Where does all that confidence even come from?’

Galahad lightly snapped his fingers. Sparks flared wildly.

He could not control his mana. The Demonkin blood he had drunk kept making it rage.

‘I can’t control the force at all.’

Galahad stared at the primitive beating his chest, then nodded.

He intended to discharge it all in one refreshing burst.

‘The snow has stopped.’

Galahad looked up at the sky.

The snow had stopped, but long, dark clouds filled the sky.

All those eyes fixed on him, and his unit shrinking back a little.

‘It should be something spectacular.’

Galahad snapped his fingers twice.

Thanks to the primitive kindly waiting for him, he even recited an incantation for the first time in a while.

* * *

“Sh-shouldn’t we stop him? He’s not in good condition!”

“Isn’t that Hermun...? The man who beat a Demonkin in a contest of strength...?”

Gilbert frowned at the concerns pouring in from behind him.

They were right. Hermun was not an easy opponent.

Being in the First Battalion alone was proof of ability in the north.

On the other hand, Galahad had struggled even against an incomplete Monster of a lord.

Galahad was also in terrible shape. Whatever he had done in the middle of the night, wounds covered him, and his back was filled with burn marks.

Logically, Gilbert should stop him, but what could he do when Galahad had stepped forward?

“Khahahaha! The Imperial bastard has lost his fear!”

A rough laugh came from Hermun. He looked thrilled at the thought of cutting off Galahad’s head.

“Madman! Madman!”

The chant erupted repeatedly from all around. No one doubted that Hermun would cut off Galahad’s head.

‘This is bad.’

The Special Operations Unit had already become a laughingstock from the start. If its captain lost here as well, their reputation would surely hit rock bottom.

Reputation was extremely important on the front lines. If Galahad lost, the Special Operations Unit might be ruined from the very beginning.

Galahad stood still as though he could not hear the jeers and worries around him.

Unlike usual, his face was slightly creased. His familiar ease was nowhere to be seen. A sharp irritation lingered on his face.

“I, Hermun of the First Battalion, challenge the Imperial bastard who dares swagger around as Lady Adrianna’s match to a duel!”

‘A duel. He did think this through.’

Gilbert frowned. He had wondered why Hermun had quietly waited for Galahad and Gilbert to finish talking. This must have been his aim.

A duel was sacred in the north. Anyone could issue one, and no one could impose any disadvantage because of its outcome.

“A duel! A duel!”

Cheers erupted in every direction. They urged him to hurry and tear off that cursed, filthy mage’s head. Thick killing intent poured in from all around.

Then Galahad raised his right hand. The noisy jeers gradually quieted.

There was something strange about Galahad that made people focus on him.

“May I ask a question?”

“...What question does a man about to die have?! Just quietly offer up your neck!”

“So I may ask it. Then let me ask. Are you Demonkin?”

Gilbert’s mouth fell open.

To ask someone if they were Demonkin in the north... It was an insult worse than insulting someone’s parents or wife.

Even the soldiers who had been jeering softly fell quiet at the unimaginable question.

“How could he say something so horrible...!”

Even Gwen, who had been worried, stammered in shock.

Creak, creak.

Hermun’s muscles writhed, making a horrifying sound. This was trouble. Gilbert gripped his sword hilt.

If necessary, he intended to intervene and stop it. His honor would be ruined, but Adrianna’s order came first.

“Judging by your reaction, I suppose you aren’t. You’re not Demonkin, you aren’t wearing leather armor, and you have no aura. What gives you the confidence to charge at me?”

“...Yoooou bastard!!”

Hermun lowered his stance. His thick legs tightened with a creak. The ground beneath his feet sank slightly.

That dense killing intent spread through the surroundings. The soldiers’ faces paled.

Hermun kicked off the ground.

Boom!

The ground beneath him caved in with a roar, and his huge body shot forward.

“Sorry, but I can’t control the force right now. Try your best to endure it.”

Galahad snapped his fingers. It was a tiny movement, yet it had the power to draw every eye.

A small spark jumped from Galahad’s fingers. The single spark bounced between his fingers, then rapidly expanded.

It was not refined. Galahad frowned as though he was having trouble controlling it. The spreading sparks grew larger still, soon swirling around his entire arm.

They looked as though they were devouring Galahad. Black lines were etched chaotically across his skin.

Galahad opened his mouth. Sparks flew from between his lips.

“Divine Retribution.”

Galahad’s quiet murmur was heard clearly. The sparks surrounding him shot upward, then vanished in an instant.

Thud!

Hermun had already reached him in a flash, and his axe rose high. Thick muscles bulged along the arm holding it. A roar burst from Hermun’s mouth.

“I’ll tear off your head and drench myself in your blood!”

Hermun brought his axe down on Galahad. It seemed certain that Galahad would be split in half.

Then the sky trembled faintly. The dark clouds filling the sky split apart. A massive spark flashed between them.

Lightning.

Lightning tore through the sky and swiftly spread across it.

It took only an instant for the lightning to reach the ground.

For a moment, everything became clear. Hermun smiling as he swung his axe, Galahad wearing an annoyed expression before him, and the horrified soldiers...

The lightning ran down Hermun’s axe. His body was obscured by a white glow.

It truly looked as though the heavens had passed judgment.

Kraaaaaa-boom!

The sound came afterward.

The lightning lasted an instant, yet it felt unbearably long.

Soon, the clear world slowed and darkened again.

Clatter.

The axe rolled across the ground.

Hermun stood there, charred black.

His hair was burned stiff and stood on end, only the whites of his eyes showed, and black marks densely covered his skin.

Gray smoke like a heat haze rose from his entire body.

“Ah...”

Hermun let out a small sound before falling face-first.

There were no jeers or cheers.

Only heavy silence remained.

Hermun had fallen without even touching him...

“Whew. That feels refreshing. Was it Hermun? Thank you. I feel a little lighter thanks to you.”

Having regained his familiar ease, Galahad smiled as he lightly tapped Hermun, as though telling him to get up.

The strange disconnect made the soldiers flinch and step back one by one.

“...Are mages normally that strong?”

At Tom’s question, Gilbert shook his head.

Of course not.

Gilbert had not looked down on mages for no reason.

Mages were not strong.

Galahad was the monster.

‘What exactly is he?’

Gilbert’s eyes turned cold.

* * *

‘They’re really excited.’

Intelligence Bureau agent Jamit smiled faintly at the new recruit, who kept shifting with excitement.

“Are you that happy to have joined the Intelligence Bureau?”

“...Pardon? Yes! I’m incredibly happy!”

Jamit gave a bitter smile at the booming reply. Thinking back, she had once been like that too. It must have been when she met him.

‘What did he say back then...?’

[Pray that you never meet me again. It will not be a good thing.]

At first, Jamit had thought some little brat was acting up, but it had been sincere advice in its own way. Considering the role he played in the Intelligence Bureau, it was only natural.

“I’ll become an agent like Galahad!”

The new recruit suddenly shouted in an excited voice.

Jamit’s brow furrowed.

‘How dare a fledgling compare themself to Galahad?’

[Jamit, calm your temper.]

At the joke that seemed to come from somewhere, Jamit quietly let out a breath.

Right. What could this fledgling know? They had no idea what it meant to become an agent like Galahad.

“...It would be best not to say that name lightly.”

“Pardon?”

Jamit smiled bitterly at the recruit’s startled face.

‘Did I scare them too much?’

“...He’s just my idol. I’m sorry.”

An idol. Galahad would laugh if he heard that. The corner of Jamit’s lips lifted slightly.

“Did I make some kind of mistake...?”

The recruit carefully asked, looking ready to cry.

Jamit smiled and shook her head.

“No, the tea was hot. I frowned without realizing it. Now then, I’ll give you an agent name. You said your name was James, right? James’s agent name will be...”

James gulped. He looked like a puppy with a bone before him.

Jamit spoke with a mischievous smile.

“Galahad.”

It was a name that truly did not suit James.

Footnotes:

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