WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Ceaseless
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈
Chapter 37: Mom
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“That was a pleasant date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
Adrianna answered firmly and turned away. Her spotless white coat whipped behind her.
“An anomaly has been discovered in the Demon Realm. We’ll hold a meeting.”
After giving the brief order, Adrianna left. The First Battalion men who had been giving Galahad fervent looks hurried after her.
She was more thoughtful than she let on.
“Why do you keep provoking her?”
Gilbert asked with a horrified expression. Galahad flicked ash from his cigarette.
“When did I provoke anyone?”
“You made Lady Adrianna take out your cigarette there...”
“Ah, that wasn’t provocation. It was defining our relationship.”
“...What?”
“Besides, my hand’s in this state, so I had no choice. Would you have taken it out for me?”
“No.”
“I agree. Just imagining it ruins the taste of my cigarette.”
Then the knights who had gone out with them approached. They had glared fiercely at him on the way out, but now their eyes were as gentle as could be.
“We apologize.”
They abruptly bowed their heads. It was an apology out of nowhere.
“For what?”
“We thought that, as a mage, you would become a burden. Instead, we were the burden. We’re sorry.”
The knights bowed deeply again.
Galahad had never cared how they saw him in the first place.
Nor had they openly picked a fight with him like the others.
They could have simply let the matter pass, yet the knights were bowing and apologizing.
It was unimaginable in the capital.
‘Are there still knights left here?’
Galahad gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
“You needn’t apologize. The odds of a mage from the Empire not becoming a burden in Demonkin Territory are extremely low.”
“...Pardon?”
“I was simply an exceptional mage.”
The knights’ expressions turned strange. They looked impressed, yet thoroughly put off.
“...Could you just accept it without making a big deal of it?”
“If I accepted this thoughtlessly, an innocent mage might suffer unfair treatment because of it. It was only possible because it was me. Bring in another mage, and they likely wouldn’t even be able to use magic.”
Galahad was merely stating the facts. He meant to prevent any future harm.
“Ah, yes. Well... yes. You’re a genius mage, so... yes, understood.”
The knights nodded. Satisfied at last, Galahad spoke as a thought occurred to him.
“This works out nicely. We’ve worked hard, so we should fill our bellies. I’m thinking of holding a dinner for the Special Operations Unit. You should come too. Sir Gilbert is paying.”
Gilbert scrunched up his face, though he nodded without complaint.
“Yes, if I have time after the meeting, I’ll attend.”
“Pass the message along to Adrianna as well.”
“Yes.”
The knights walked away. Rather than joining the others ahead of them, they disappeared separately.
“Lady Adrianna won’t come.”
“You never know.”
Galahad picked up his pace, with Gilbert following after him.
His thoughts moved as busily as his feet.
‘The Egg of Pain...’
The Egg of Pain was his greatest mystery at present. Since he had fed it a considerable amount of Demonkin blood, it felt as though the thing had developed a sense of self.
All it did was burn with determination when it saw Adrianna or fear her when she came near, but still...
‘Corton said it was a remnant of the Jema War. A high-ranking Demonkin egg.’
He recalled Corton’s words. It had come from Dawn, and they used it as a tool for oaths.
It had truly exerted enough pressure to shake his mind the instant it saw Adrianna.
Yet the Egg of Pain had changed after he fed it Demonkin blood.
Galahad had been extracting only the dense mana from Demonkin blood and feeding it to the Egg of Pain. It had now become extremely important to him.
Still, he had embedded it in his body, right beside his heart. He needed to determine exactly what it was.
‘What are you?’
The Egg of Pain was quiet. Without Adrianna nearby, it appeared to show no notable reaction.
By then, they had arrived at the tavern where he had left the unit members.
Only Tom was there. He sat on a high stool in the middle of the tavern, playing a guitar-like instrument. He was quite skilled.
“Ah, you’re back.”
“You play well.”
“It was in the tavern, so I was practicing.”
“I see. Where are the others?”
“Damian is running around in the back, and Gwen is going around the First Battalion helping people.”
Before Tom even finished answering, Gilbert headed for the back door. Though he tried to hide it, a strange eagerness filled his eyes.
‘Competing with Damian...’
He truly couldn’t help being a knight. Galahad clicked his tongue and took a seat.
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet. I’m hungry.”
“I’ll prepare something right away.”
Tom got up and headed inside.
Galahad took out the cigarette Adrianna had taken out for him, put it between his lips, and lit it. A deep lemon scent filled the air.
Before long, lavish dishes began arriving one after another. Even Galahad, who had eaten only fine cuisine in the central region, found them delicious.
Tom returned to the high stool and began playing again. It was so natural that nobody found it odd.
Damian and Gilbert returned much later.
‘They took a while.’
It had taken longer than Galahad expected.
There were two possibilities.
Either Gilbert had gone easy on Damian to extend their sparring match, or Damian had improved.
Judging by Gilbert’s crumpled expression, it appeared to be the latter.
Damian charged straight at the food and slammed face-first into a plate with a bang. Gilbert hurriedly grabbed some food for himself.
“Where is the owner? Why is Tom cooking?”
“Ah, Hetrick isn’t feeling well today, so I’m filling in.”
“...Hetrick is suspicious by nature. Hetrick wouldn’t hire just anyone.”
Instead of answering, Tom smiled and plucked the instrument.
Twang!
It was a pleasant sound.
Gilbert nodded doubtfully, then looked at Galahad.
“Damian has improved.”
“Has he? Damian, you worked hard. Well done.”
“Yes.”
Gilbert frowned at Damian’s casual answer.
“All he does is eat and run around, so why is he getting stronger? Does that make any sense?”
Gilbert stared at Damian with a complicated expression. Damian ignored him and kept eating, as ravenous as ever.
“Wild beasts grow stronger if you feed them well and let them sleep. And you’ve been sparring with him.”
“Even so...”
Gilbert muttered before nodding with a dissatisfied expression.
Gwen returned later. Whatever she had been doing outside, her face was black with soot.
“You’re back! You worked hard!”
“Looking at your face, it seems you worked harder. What have you been doing?”
“I was helping people here while practicing Explosive Fireball.”
Pride appeared on Gwen’s face. Tom wiped her face with a cloth.
“Blow your nose.”
“Honk!”
Gwen returned to her usual fresh-faced self.
“Are you getting used to Explosive Fireball?”
“Yes! I’m getting the hang of it now. Explosive Fireball.”
As she chanted the spell, a large ball of fire appeared in Gwen’s hand. It was enormous, likely because her mana pool was absurdly large.
“Perfect.”
“Ah! Thank you!”
“You watched my magic and copied it, so of course it would be perfect.”
Galahad nodded. She had watched his magic and copied it, so it could only be perfect.
Gwen, who had been thanking him, twitched her lips.
Then her eyes widened. Her gaze fixed on Galahad’s left chest.
“...What? I didn’t hear that. What did you say?”
Gwen suddenly tilted her head.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, you just said something... You just spoke!”
Galahad narrowed his eyes at where Gwen was pointing. She was pointing precisely at his left chest.
Where the Egg of Pain lay.
“What did it say?”
“Uh...”
“Uh?”
“Uhh...”
“Uh?”
Gwen frowned.
“What did it say?”
Galahad pressed her urgently. Fear appeared in Gwen’s eyes. She seemed to realize something was wrong.
Galahad shook his head and looked at Gwen.
“Ignore everything else and trust yourself. Focus. Can you still hear it?”
“...What? Um...”
“Be honest. Lies make your mouth heavy.”
Galahad braced a hand on the table and leaned forward. Gwen startled as he came right up to her.
“What is...”
“Sir Gilbert, keep your mouth shut for a moment. Gwen, can you still hear the voice?”
Galahad’s gaze was steady. His black eyes held a faint blue.
Facing him, Gwen felt as though something was tightening around her throat.
She bit her lip hard and nodded.
“Uh... Mo...”
Gwen answered with a face that looked ready to cry.
“...It’s calling me Mom. I’m not its mom!”
“Mom?”
Galahad hurriedly unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Gwen’s eyes widened at the terrible scar visible through the opening.
It was a terrible scar, as though something had been scraped into a cauterized area. The gruesome scar did not suit Galahad’s neat appearance at all.
How much must that have hurt? Tears welled in Gwen’s eyes.
“Gwen, save the tears for later. Focus. Can you still hear it?”
The halting voice grew louder, rattling Gwen’s mind.
An impulse suddenly surged within her. Gwen’s pupils unfocused.
Without realizing it, she reached out.
“Hm.”
Galahad frowned. The Egg of Pain throbbed violently.
It was more violent than when it saw Adrianna. Gwen let out an excited gasp. Galahad clicked his tongue at her unfocused pupils.
“Gwen, focus. Don’t let it pull you in.”
“...What? Yes!”
“What is it saying?”
Gwen lowered her head.
“It wants me to become its mom. I’m not its mom!”
Gwen whispered so only Galahad could hear, her eyes full of grievance.
“Accept it.”
“...What? I’m not even married!”
“You raise orphans anyway. By that logic, this one is an orphan too. It won’t be dangerous for you. If it truly becomes dangerous, there’s a way to destroy it...”
The Egg of Pain vibrated harshly. Sympathy passed over Gwen’s face before she nodded.
The Egg of Pain heaved violently. Something moved from it toward Gwen. It was not mana.
It was something unknown.
Galahad felt intense interest.
Gwen straightened up.
“Um, Captain...”
“Sir Gilbert, please be quiet for a moment.”
Crack.
With a sharp sound, Gwen’s right arm became slightly thicker. It swelled as though her muscles had expanded, then immediately returned to normal.
It lasted only an instant, but Galahad, seated directly before her, did not miss it.
Galahad doubted his eyes.
What Gwen had just done...
‘It belongs to the Demonkin.’
It resembled what he had seen from the Demonkin in the cave when he met Eight.
It was an ability that strengthened the body with something close to the origin of mana. She had used what the Demonkin called authority.
The Egg of Pain stopped throbbing. Gwen let out a deep breath. Her breath was remarkably hot.
‘Is it related to copying magic? Is what belongs to the Demonkin the origin of magic?’
Galahad’s thoughts grew complicated again. Did Gwen have some secret? Or would any female mage work?
“Captain.”
Gilbert called Galahad again.
When Galahad turned his head...
“...Ah, I came to deliver His Grace the Grand Duke’s letter.”
Adrianna stood there. Her face was as expressionless as ever. The knights behind her looked horrified.
Only then did Galahad take in the situation.
Gwen had her hand inside Galahad’s shirt. Drool was even streaming from her mouth.
It was not a pleasant sight.
“I see. Gwen, could you take your hand out?”
“What? Ah! Yes!”
Gwen noisily pulled her hand away. Galahad buttoned his shirt.
Adrianna held an envelope out directly before Galahad. It was close enough to touch his nose.
The distance was strange.
“Thank you.”
“...”
Galahad opened the envelope without hesitation.
[Special Operations Unit Captain Galahad is to inspect each battalion and personally take responsibility for identifying breaches in the front line.]
It was a brief sentence. The thick handwriting, as though written with a fist, was unmistakably the Grand Duke’s.
‘Take responsibility...’
It meant he was to take responsibility for what he had brought up. The Grand Duke had a petty side that did not suit his size.
Still...
‘Good. Is this a reward?’
The Grand Duke’s seal at the bottom of the letter was quite a fine reward.
‘Take responsibility and inspect the battalions’ breaches...’
The wording was rough, but the Grand Duke was giving Galahad authority. He had granted Galahad the right to interfere with other battalions.
That did not mean the battalion commanders would simply open their doors for him, but it was exactly the justification Galahad needed.
It was a chance to find Dawn.
“Good.”
Galahad put away the letter with a satisfied smile.
“His Grace the Grand Duke has ordered every battalion to inspect the front line again. Abnormal signs have also been discovered in the Demon Realm, so the First Battalion plans to close its gates for the time being and inspect the interior.”
Adrianna spoke in an indifferent voice.
“Understood. I’ll look forward to our next date while I catch the bugs that got inside.”
“...It wasn’t a date.”
Adrianna’s brows tightened. She would not let it pass, not even once.
Galahad raised the corner of his mouth and threw out a joke.
“Why are you reacting like that? Was it your first date?”
Adrianna did not answer. Her brows remained frozen.
Silence followed for a moment.
Galahad coughed softly.
“Um... Now that I think about it, it wasn’t a date. Yes, how could that have been a date?”
The ends of Adrianna’s brows rose slightly.
“We were busy. We had to defend the front line.”
“I understand.”
“If we let our guard down even briefly, Demonkin will cross over. And I’m the captain of the First Battalion. The north’s first shield...”
“I said I understand.”
Adrianna continued insisting.
* * *
“I heard an executive came in person.”
“An executive moved? Is that person really so impressive?”
At the noisy conversation, the old man lifted his heavy eyelids.
It was a prison thick with the smell of fish and filth. Dim light shone beyond the iron bars.
‘Damned noisy bastards.’
The old man grumbled. They were mages who went on about dark magic, and they never stopped talking.
The old man spat. It was thick spit mixed with phlegm and blood. His handcuffs rattled around his wrists.
“It’s because Dawn is involved with the worksite too...”
“I see.”
Then...
“Ah! You’ve arrived!”
“Ah, yes! Understood! Please speak freely!”
He heard them hurriedly moving away.
“Are you awake?”
A strange voice spoke. It sounded like a woman’s voice, yet also like a boy’s. When the person received no response, they tapped the iron bars.
A shadow stood beyond the bars. A torch burned behind it, making it impossible to see clearly.
“Seventh Battalion captain... No, former captain Velogrime, correct?”
Yes, that had been his name. That was the trouble with getting old. He kept forgetting.
“Correct. I have a few questions. Is there a secret passageway someone could enter through, or...”
The person kept chattering. The old man had no one to talk to, so he answered.
Then footsteps sounded in the distance.
“Ah, one last thing. If someone rescued you from here, is there anything you would give them?”
The old man chuckled at the strange question.
“Rescue me? Do you know how many men are outside?”
“Yes, I probably know better than you. I’m busy, so please answer quickly.”
The old man chuckled at the person’s bold urging.
“Fine. If you rescue me, I’ll even lick your feet.”
“Ah... That’s a little gross. Ah, I won’t be the one rescuing you. So if you were rescued, could you serve under another captain?”
It had been a pointless conversation. The old man only nodded lightly.
“You can’t go back on your word later. That person is very scary.”
“Are you a woman or a man?”
“That is classified.”
The footsteps reached their side.
As the torch came closer, it revealed the person’s appearance.
‘A Crow Mask.’
The old man clicked his tongue softly.
“Shh.”
Eight held a finger to his lips and disappeared.
Footnotes:
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