WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

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

Chapter 27: Village Feast

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Thick footprints stretched through the snow.

It was a very obvious invitation.

‘There’s only one trail of footprints.’

An entire company had vanished, yet there was only one trail.

Galahad crouched down and examined it closely. There were slight irregularities in the prints.

‘Overlapping footprints.’

Several people had walked in single file with the exact same stride, as though playing a game.

The overlapping tracks made it impossible to tell precisely, but there were more than five people.

‘The whole company matched their steps and walked in a line?’

What kind of threat could make an entire company walk in single file, keeping step with one another?

He tried to imagine it, but nothing came to mind.

It was not a threat.

Galahad took a deep drag from his cigarette. The lemon scent spread through him, clearing his hazy mind.

‘They vanished in a straight line, even matching their strides...’

If it was not a threat, the next possibility was magic.

Human magic generally needed an attribute added to it. Otherwise, it lacked power.

There was a reason Mana Arrow, which had no attribute, was classified as a first-tier spell.

It was easy to strike people with lightning or roast them with fire, but meddling with their minds was far more difficult.

Dense, attribute-free mana could affect the brain and cause momentary confusion. It was one of Galahad’s favorite methods of persuasion.

Still, casting mental magic on an entire company was impossible.

This was less magic and more...

‘Ah, Demonkin.’

The corner of Galahad’s mouth rose.

A Demonkin that affected the mind. Galahad pulled a notebook from his inner pocket. Damian’s torch pushed back the darkness.

‘It should be around here... Ah, there it is.’

[A commander gave an inexplicable charge order, causing the front line to collapse.]

If there was a Demonkin that could influence minds, this part could be explained.

“I think it’s a Demonkin that affects the mind.”

Galahad put away the notebook as he spoke.

“The mind?”

He nodded at Damian’s calm question.

“You might manage two or three people through threats, but you can’t make them play train like this. It seems to be a Demonkin that affects the mind. Interesting.”

“I see.”

“Are you all right?”

“No, I’m hungry.”

“Then you’re fine.”

Galahad chuckled.

There were two ways to break mental magic.

One was to simplify the mind completely. The rougher and simpler a mind was, the harder it was to influence. The simpler it was, the sturdier its foundation.

A person with many thoughts could easily be swayed with this or that argument, but there was no way to deal with someone whose only thought was that they were hungry except by giving them food.

The other was...

“Don’t leave my side from now on. If you do, I’ll be suspicious.”

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

“Bear with it a little longer.”

Galahad nodded and adjusted his cigarette so he could draw it at any moment.

“Damian. When I give the signal, stab me with your sword.”

“Yes.”

“Somewhere that hurts like hell but won’t be fatal.”

Damian nodded without hesitation. He was truly reliable.

Once he had finished preparing, Galahad followed the footprints.

“What’s your dream?”

“I don’t have one.”

“A dream is a guidepost. Without one, it’s easy to lose your way.”

“Do you have one?”

“I do. To spend a peaceful old age, reading magic books at my leisure in the warm, clean central region.”

“When I’m old, I’ll eat meat until I’m full.”

“Isn’t that too simple?”

“I’ll eat bread too.”

“That’s much more complex. A good sign.”

Galahad kept talking with Damian to steady his mind.

Damian’s answers were short and impossible to predict, making him a fairly good conversation partner. Of course, most of those answers were that he was hungry...

After walking for quite some time, they came upon a village surrounded by a wooden palisade.

The footprints led into it.

The village felt detached from the snow-blanketed world around it.

Torches atop the palisade lit the land like beacons.

The trail had led them to a village...

‘Were those not the company’s footprints?’

Whatever the case, the invitation led to this village.

“Judging by the noise, it looks like they’re holding a feast.”

“Really?”

Galahad smiled faintly at Damian’s answer and headed toward the village.

As they drew closer, loud chatter reached them. Children’s laughter filled the background like music.

No one stopped them before they reached the entrance. Galahad cleared his throat.

“Hello!”

A moment after he called out, a face appeared above the palisade. It belonged to a one-eyed, middle-aged man armed like a soldier. His face was red, as though he had been drinking.

“Who are you?”

The middle-aged man aimed a large crossbow at Galahad.

“I’m from the Fifth Battalion.”

“...The Fifth Battalion?”

The man repeated it with a doubtful look.

“Has a company passed through here?”

“A company? A few soldiers did pass by. They were acting strange, so we didn’t let them in!”

At that answer, Galahad looked down. There were too many footprints. Some trails led away from the village.

‘Did we come to the wrong place?’

Galahad frowned and took a deep drag from his cigarette.

There were so many footprints. Perhaps the trail had split off elsewhere. Was that more likely?

He raised his head and looked at the man on the palisade.

“I see. It’s getting late. May we rest here for the night?”

“Hmm, wait there. I’ll call the village chief.”

A little later, an old man climbed onto the palisade. He had a kind face.

“Who might you be?”

“I’m Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit.”

“Special Operations Unit? What’s that?”

The old man looked to the side and asked. The others whispered among themselves, then all shook their heads.

“And the one beside you?”

“My attendant.”

Galahad heard someone quietly curse him for making a boy serve as his attendant.

“We can’t turn away guests. Open the gate!”

Thanks to the generous old man, the palisade gate soon opened.

It was noisy inside. Laughter and music filled the air.

The old man wore a fox-fur hat. The fox face perched on top was rather cute.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hedrick, the village chief. Did you say your name was Garahad?”

“Galahad. A pleasure.”

Galahad extended his hand first. The old man looked at it and shook his head.

“We don’t shake hands with strangers.”

“Why not?”

“There’s an old tale passed down here. About a Demonkin that bewitches people...”

“Bewitches people?”

Galahad was deeply intrigued. The old man coughed and discreetly averted his gaze. His reason for showing his palm was obvious.

“This is for our lodging and food tonight.”

He flicked a silver coin toward the old man.

“You’re quite generous.”

“The boy eats a lot.”

“How much can a child possibly eat?”

Galahad laughed aloud at the old man’s words. The old man narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

“Tell me the rest of the story about the Demonkin that bewitches people.”

“There’s a Demonkin in the forest that bewitches people. It’s a story passed down since ancient times. That Demonkin approaches without its target noticing, bewitches them, and leads them into the forest. You said you were looking for a company?”

“I did.”

“That Demonkin probably took them.”

Torchlight cast orange shadows across the old man’s face. Deep shadows filled his many wrinkles.

‘A false lead?’

Galahad frowned.

“Do you know where that Demonkin is?”

“You don’t seem to know fear, do you?”

“Should I be afraid?”

The old man fell silent at Galahad’s question. He soon snorted and shook his head.

“Of course you should. How would we know where the Demonkin is? If we did, we would’ve informed the military long ago.”

Galahad clicked his tongue softly. Perhaps the invitation had led elsewhere.

“But you don’t know our village. You must not have been here long.”

The old man’s lips twitched. He looked desperate to boast.

“The Fifth Battalion commander came from our village. Quite a few people from here joined the Fourth Battalion too. That’s why our village, nestled between the two battalions, is peaceful.”

The old man’s words made sense. Galahad nodded. So that was how it was.

“This village produced such outstanding young men, yet you don’t know it. Tsk, tsk.”

Galahad discreetly glanced behind him. The one-eyed middle-aged man was stroking his crossbow.

“Were you a soldier?”

“In the north, there’s no one who wasn’t a soldier.”

It was a blunt answer.

“You’re lucky. You came on the day of a feast.”

The old man beamed and pointed behind him. In the open space at the village center, firewood had been piled high.

There were people playing instruments, women dancing beside them, and meat giving off curling wisps of smoke.

It was a village feast.

“Today is my daughter’s birthday.”

A warm smile appeared on the old man’s face. Then he looked at Galahad and narrowed his eyes.

“Be careful! My daughter is very beautiful. Don’t get any ideas, or you won’t get so much as a drop of soup.”

“Ah, don’t worry. I have a fiancée.”

“Even so! Men come from all over just to see my daughter!”

Galahad smiled faintly at the warning.

“I guarantee my fiancée is more beautiful, so don’t worry. Nothing can be more beautiful than my fiancée.”

“...That’s some impressive love.”

“It’s not love. It’s a simple fact.”

The old man gave him an uncertain look and waved a hand.

“Young man with the beautiful wife, don’t just stand there. Help out.”

At the old man’s scolding, Galahad walked toward the pile of firewood.

A small child was trying to light it with a torch.

“May I help?”

“It’ll be difficult!”

The child shot back boldly.

Galahad watched for a moment. The child pushed a torch larger than their head into the firewood.

The wood seemed damp with snow and would not catch fire. Beads of sweat formed on the child’s forehead.

After struggling for a long time, the child handed the torch to Galahad.

“I’m only giving it to you because it looks like you want to try!”

“Thank you. It looked so fun that I really wanted to.”

The child laughed brightly.

Galahad pushed the torch into the firewood and snapped his fingers. The flame on the torch grew in an instant.

“Waaaaah!”

The child cried out in amazement. Soon, the firewood caught. The small flame rapidly flared into a fierce blaze.

“How did you do that?!”

“It’s a secret.”

“Eeeeh?! That’s unfair!”

The child scrunched up their face.

“The world is cold by nature. If you want to know a secret, you have to give one too. It’s called a secret trade.”

“...A secret trade?”

The child’s eyes sparkled. Both “secret” and “trade” were irresistible words to a child.

After briefly checking their surroundings, the child spoke.

“My older sister is getting married soon!”

“Hmm, that’s not a secret.”

“It is a secret! It’s going to be a wonderful wedding!”

Galahad quietly repeated the child’s words.

“Tell me already.”

“It’s magic.”

“Ma-gic!”

The child screamed so loudly that the entire area fell silent.

The one-armed middle-aged man carrying more firewood, the woman stirring a huge pot, and the old man giving instructions as though preparing something...

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked their way.

“Nice to meet you. I’m a mage.”

Galahad casually waved.

“You never said you were a mage!”

The old man ran over, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“You never asked.”

“Damn it! We let a mage inside!”

The old man reacted fiercely. The middle-aged man aimed his crossbow at Galahad again. Galahad raised both hands.

“Why are you making such a fuss?”

“Are you a servant of the Demonkin? The Demonkin will attack us!”

Galahad tried to calm them down, but it only made things worse.

The old man’s shout turned the atmosphere hostile in an instant. The middle-aged man’s finger moved onto the crossbow trigger.

Then a low voice came from one side.

“Everyone, calm down. It’s a happy day.”

The voice was sweet as candy and languid as a nap. When Galahad turned, a woman in plain clothes approached.

She was unnaturally beautiful.

She was not as beautiful as Adrianna, of course, but she possessed a strange charm that drew the eye. The moment he saw her, Galahad’s chest stirred.

“Ah, right. It’s a happy day! Amanda!”

Galahad was impressed that such a woman could come from that old man.

“Leave as soon as the feast ends. We’ll return your money.”

“That’s harsh.”

“You brought this on yourself by hiding who you were.”

Soon, the feast began. Villagers gathered around the roaring fire, talking and singing.

Warm laughter rang out. Amanda was at its center. She spoke with the villagers and laughed, smiling kindly all the while.

Galahad understood why they held a feast for her birthday.

Everything revolved around Amanda.

Damian quietly looked up at Galahad.

Then the one-eyed man played an instrument that resembled a guitar. The plucking sound made the atmosphere grow livelier.

Amanda raised both hands, clapping as she spun around. She was quite a good dancer.

Amanda’s dance stopped abruptly. She held out a hand to Galahad.

“I’m hopeless at dancing.”

Galahad refused firmly.

The corners of Amanda’s eyes rose slightly. The villagers began to jeer, and word spread that he was impotent.

The noise only subsided after Amanda began dancing again.

Amanda’s dance continued for a long time. It was hard to look away. Several times, Galahad nearly found his feet moving on their own.

When the villagers tangled together in a dance, Amanda quietly slipped away.

Amanda met Galahad’s eyes and lifted the corner of her red lips.

She approached with a light bounce, as though still dancing.

“I heard you’re a mage.”

“A very skilled mage.”

“Oh my, can you show me?”

Amanda’s eyes curved into crescents. Her smile was deadly.

Amanda drew closer. Her strange presence shook Galahad deeply.

‘Being popular is exhausting...’

Galahad clicked his tongue softly and snapped his fingers.

A spark that began at his index finger crossed to his middle finger, taking shape as it moved. Soon, a flower-shaped bolt of lightning floated over Galahad’s palm.

“Wow, it’s so pretty.”

Galahad cast more spells. Pretty magic was child’s play for him.

How long had he been showing off magic...

Galahad felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

The village was too peaceful, though not suspiciously so. There was even a fairly reasonable explanation.

The village stood between the Fourth Battalion and Fifth Battalion.

Yet something was missing.

Galahad thought deeply.

“Our village has a tradition.”

Amanda, who had somehow come right beside him, whispered. It felt as though his ears would melt.

[Adultery is punishable by death in the north.]

Gilbert’s nagging seemed to echo in his ears. Unfortunately, Gilbert was not here.

“A tradition? What kind of tradition?”

“On the day we become adults, we choose a partner and spend the night together.”

Amanda’s red lips formed a beautiful curve. They were the color of someone who had eaten a handful of raspberries.

Laughter rose behind them. The music grew faster.

Thump, thump, thump, thump...

“That’s quite a passionate tradition.”

Galahad touched his dry throat.

What was missing...

Thump, thump, thump, thump...

Amanda gently swayed her shoulders. Her dance was like a flower shaking in the wind.

Amanda’s red lips slowly opened.

“Today is my birthday.”

Her whisper was sweet enough to melt his ears.

Her excited breath and faint fragrance...

It was an irresistible temptation.

‘This is embarrassing to let Damian see.’

Thump, thump, thump, thump...

“Ah, I see.”

Only then did he remember what was missing.

Damian was staring up at Galahad.

“Please.”

Without hesitation, Damian stabbed Galahad through the shoulder with his sword.

There was not a moment of doubt, as though he had been waiting for it.

Ah...

A searing pain burst from his shoulder. His mind cleared as though blood had finally begun flowing through a blocked passage.

Only then did mana begin to circulate. He had forgotten mana even existed.

Impressive.

Galahad closed and opened his eyes in admiration.

His vision shifted as though flickering.

A massive pile of firewood was burning. The scene lit by the distant flames was different from before.

People with the tops of their skulls opened, as though someone had taken a bite from each of their heads, stared at Galahad with red eyes.

Their horrific shadows rippled in the flames.

‘We found the missing company.’

Sadly, it seemed unlikely that the company would return alive.

“How did you know?”

Amanda narrowed her eyes as she asked.

Deep interest showed in them.

It was certainly a convincing village setting.

A village on the border of two battalions, tied to the people who had come from it...

There had been no reason to doubt it.

Naturally, because Galahad himself had created the setting while bewitched.

But one thing had been missing.

“Damian didn’t say he was hungry.”

“You got stabbed because he didn’t say he was hungry? What if you were wrong?”

“Then I would’ve patched it up. I have another shoulder. You’re awfully petty.”

“...Petty?”

Galahad answered as he pressed a finger against the hole in his shoulder. It was a wound that caused no problems as long as the surface was sealed.

Flames rose from his finger. The smell of roasting flesh filled the air. Galahad clicked his tongue softly.

“Clean work. Well done, Damian.”

Damian nodded.

“Hmm, this is fun.”

Amanda’s red lips curled upward.

A drop of blood clung to the corner of her mouth.

“I had quite a bit of fun too. Mental interference on this level... Impressive. Why did you leave their skulls open? Is it easier that way?”

Amanda laughed aloud. It sounded like a bat’s cry.

“This is fun! No wonder that person is looking for you.”

“That person?”

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you in advance.”

“That’s true.”

“Are you even human?”

Instead of answering, Galahad let out a deep breath.

“You’ll find out if you open me up.”

Amanda spun a finger.

The soldiers with opened skulls approached. Their eyes were full of rage and resentment. Blood flowing from their heads ran down the sides of their eyes, looking like tears of blood.

Their footsteps were heavy.

“You damned Demonkin bastards! How dare you kill our mother!”

“I’ll kill you! Even if it costs me my life!”

It seemed they saw Galahad as a Demonkin.

“You ruined my older sister’s wedding!”

One particularly small soldier shouted sharply.

Their deep anger overflowed.

The sharp hostility stung Galahad’s skin.

It felt a little unfair, but it did not matter.

He was used to this sort of treatment.

“Come, Damian. It’s time to work.”

Galahad put his cigarette in his mouth and smiled.

“Yes, Brother.”

Damian let out a loud belch and drew his sword.

He looked thoroughly excited.

Footnotes:

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