The Northern Grand Duke's Mad Son-in-Law - Chapter 40

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

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

Chapter 40: Ghost

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‘...He really came with just six?’

Eight tapped his mask.

Eight had doubted it, but the man had brought only the Special Operations Unit. Eight had seen it firsthand.

Several layers of Seventh Battalion knights and soldiers surrounded the building he had entered. There were even Dark Magic Society executives present.

‘Even he can’t pull this off.’

The scales had just begun to tip toward the Dark Magic Society.

Then...

“Your skills seem to have dulled.”

A low voice came from behind. It was too relaxed for the noisy castle. Eight doubted his ears.

How had he gotten out from there? No, Eight erased the word “how.” The person before him was that man.

“Handler, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Eight immediately bowed. Familiar black shoes stopped before him.

“Your report was lacking. Have you gotten rusty?”

There was no emotion in his voice. It was simply flat, which made it all the more terrifying. He seemed like the sort of person who would replace Eight without a second thought, like tossing aside a rusted tool.

“Haha, it’s not that. These Dark Magic Society bastards have become so secretive...”

“Is that so?”

Eight’s thoughts stopped at the shoes standing right in front of him.

He quietly grasped Eight’s mask. It was an oath never to remove it before him. Showing his bare face meant announcing the end.

“I... I’m telling the truth! It took time to find the Seventh Battalion commander’s location and the route there! And I also found out... that they have something called a Sanctuary!”

Eight’s mask lifted slightly. The chill that slipped through froze his face. The cold air was sharp as a blade.

Tap, tap. He tapped the mask.

“You said Sanctuary?”

“...Yes!”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

At that tiny show of interest, Eight desperately explained everything, like someone on the verge of drowning sucking in air.

“I see. Lead the way.”

He stepped away, and Eight offered him genuine thanks.

Eight had been fooled by the side of him he had seen with the Special Operations Unit and forgotten this coldness. This was his true nature.

Idiot... Eight bit his lip.

“The Seventh Battalion commander is in the basement of the Dark Magic Society branch building. There are two gates engraved with magic circles along the way, and thirteen mages guarding the space between them. They’re all armed with high-grade staves.”

Eight delivered the report quickly. It was an absurd force. Galahad was alone by comparison. Objectively speaking, this was madness, but...

“I see.”

He answered briefly.

The castle was quiet. Soundless tension filled the air. Torchlight moved busily in one direction.

Eight headed in the exact opposite direction.

‘He drew all their attention away.’

Everyone in the castle had focused on the building he entered under the pretense of washing and on the inner keep.

As a result, the Dark Magic Society building had been left rather empty.

Who would expect him to move to rescue the Seventh Battalion commander the moment he arrived?

“There are two soldiers guarding the main entrance...”

Before Eight could finish, the soldiers collapsed.

Each had a hole through their neck. They were precise Ice Spikes. Once the ice melted, not even a trace would remain.

Like a ghost...

“We’re in a hurry, so don’t stop. Keep walking.”

He whispered. He had just killed two people, but not the slightest emotion colored his voice.

“Yes.”

Eight suppressed his eerie fear and moved forward.

Eight opened the door. The sickening stench of blood tickled Eight’s nose.

“...Hm? What brings an executive here at this hour...”

Thud.

The one speaking fell where they stood. They had not even had time to close their eyes. Red blood seeped from the hole in their neck.

Snap. The sound of fingers snapping was all there had been. Killing a mage with a snap of his fingers, without even using a staff...

‘You were going to try something against a monster like that? Fuck. I’ve lost my mind.’

Eight bit his lip and kept walking.

“Oh, you’ve arr-”

Someone who recognized Eight opened their mouth, then collapsed. Hot blood soaked Eight’s feet. It repeated like a simple task. Without feeling...

‘...Fucking insane.’

Eight’s feet were heavy, but he had to keep moving. If Eight stopped, the monster would point at him next.

The man’s plan was simple. Send Eight in first, then pierce the necks of anyone who reacted.

The sound of snapping fingers was all there was.

Eight stopped before a door protected by magical security.

“I... I don’t have authorization for this! The person who originally managed the Seventh Battalion branch never gave it to me!”

Eight pleaded desperately.

His footsteps drew closer. Though he was walking across the hard basement floor, his shoes made no sound.

Like a ghost...

He silently placed a hand on the door. Eight swallowed.

This was a security tool the Dark Magic Society had painstakingly prepared after fleeing to the north. Even he could not...

Click.

The door opened before Eight’s thoughts could finish.

Eight knew he was exceptionally good at dealing with mages. That was because of his unnaturally fast spells and decisive judgment.

But this door was different.

Eight knew how troublesome the magical security placed on it was.

Yet he opened it just by tapping it a few times.

As though he knew it well...

“Aren’t you walking?”

Startled by his question, Eight began walking again.

Eight felt a cold breath against the back of his neck.

As though...

“This area is off limi...”

It felt as though the Grim Reaper stood behind them.

Gulp.

Eight desperately continued onward.

* * *

“Commander, the Emperor deceived us. He plans to fatten his own purse by making the north fight the Demonkin. The real enemy isn’t the Demonkin. It’s the Emperor.”

The elderly commander of the Seventh Battalion blinked tired eyes. One of the company commanders was spouting nonsense.

Had they grown senile enough to hear things? That seemed likely. No northern warrior would join hands with the Demonkin.

Of course not.

“You foolish old man, you don’t even realize you’re being deceived. That’s why we never made any progress with an old man like you as commander. Always hungry and cold... It’s all your fault.”

The elderly commander could not hold back any longer.

“The north has always been cold, you bastard.”

“No, it isn’t cold anymore. We...”

The company commander rolled up a sleeve. An unfamiliar, intricate design had been engraved there.

“We received the Selection.”

The elderly commander frowned deeply.

“Your brain has melted. To think you still haven’t come to your senses. The Empire only fattens itself by driving wedges between us. This grudge was manufactured...”

The way the company commander spoke so confidently, the finer armor than before, even the oily face...

The elderly commander chuckled.

“I’m sorry, but the Demonkin are your enemies.”

A relaxed voice sounded then.

The man wore tight-fitting clothes, his hair slicked neatly back. A noble? He looked clean and refined, far too refined for the north.

“Who are you?”

“Can’t you tell? I’m an intruder.”

“...An intruder?”

“Yes. My looks may have confused you, but I’m an intruder at the moment.”

“This bastard is making jokes...”

The knight frowned. They rose roughly and drew a sword. Aura surged from the blade, and its color was...

“Oh, ashen. Ashen aura... Did you receive that power from the Demonkin?”

“You idiot, you came down here without a weapon? I don’t know what trick you used, but this ends here.”

“Hm. A pity. I don’t have much time right now.”

The man clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers.

The knight moved. They were incredibly fast, too fast for a mere company commander.

Swift movements and violently surging aura...

At first glance, it looked threatening.

“Foolish.”

The elderly commander’s eyes widened. The man had spoken the words they had been about to say.

“Aura is the power of conviction. That’s why it’s difficult to attain and doesn’t grow easily.”

The knight swung their sword violently. The ashen aura rippled like a Monster opening its mouth wide.

Though the man faced the knight head-on, he did not move an inch.

“That is why aura cuts through Monsters’ thick hides and shatters magic. But...”

Snap. The man snapped his fingers.

The knight’s sword was right before the man’s neck, yet he did not even blink. Instead, he clicked his tongue while looking at the sword.

“You can’t even break through such a simple barrier.”

The knight’s sword, wreathed in ashen aura, had been stopped by a translucent wall. The knight’s face turned pale.

The knight struggled desperately, but the sword would not move, as though embedded in stone.

Aura could not cut through magic...

Only then did the knight seem to realize something was wrong. Urgency appeared on their face.

“You stained your noble conviction with color yourself... Thanks to that, your conviction lost its light.”

The knight tilted. Their chest split horizontally. Cut in two, they collapsed helplessly.

The elderly commander gave a quiet exclamation. The man was right. Aura was the power of conviction. That was why it could cut through anything.

Yet that foolish company commander had added something foreign to their conviction.

What mattered in conviction was not its size. It was its roots.

Still, they had undeniably become stronger at once.

And the man had dealt with them in a single move...

“Impressive.”

“A smart knight isn’t such a difficult opponent.”

“A smart knight... That’s true.”

The elderly commander nodded.

Knights had to be foolish.

‘Because a foolish conviction is the strongest.’

Then the man placed his hand on the iron bars. The thick bars crumbled without a sound.

“I came to rescue you. Let’s go.”

The man took out a canteen from his waist and put it to his lips. A familiar scent of blood spread through the room. It was not human blood.

“Are you drinking Demonkin blood?”

“It’s surprisingly good.”

The elderly commander chuckled at the answer. Demonkin blood tasted good? What kind of madman was this?

“He was an opponent that man could never defeat. How could someone who received the Demonkin’s power defeat a hunter who devours Demonkin?”

The elderly commander coughed harshly. A mage who drank Demonkin blood... They truly had lived long enough to see everything.

The man stood before the elderly commander. His clothes were neat, and his hair was still slicked back cleanly, but his face was full of exhaustion.

The elderly commander gave a small exclamation. The man’s eyes held no trace of hesitation, the eyes only someone who trusted himself could possess.

Like the Grand Duke...

‘No, perhaps a little different.’

“Aren’t you getting up?”

The man looked at the elderly commander and asked.

Their restraints had all been removed at some point, but the elderly commander’s body remained heavy.

Once they left this place, they would have work to do. They had to kill every bastard who had joined hands with the Demonkin. Some of them had been with the elderly commander for many years.

The elderly commander was too worn down for such work.

Still, what else could they do?

This was also the elderly commander’s fault.

They pushed their stiff body upright.

“Where is your weapon?”

At the man’s question, the elderly commander chuckled and took hold of the staff propped in the corner.

“A staff is best for someone old.”

For the first time in a while, the staff settled comfortably into their hand.

* * *

Bang, bang!

Someone pounded harshly on the door.

When Tom opened it, piercing stares fell on him.

“The deputy commander and all the company commanders are gathered and waiting. How long do you intend to keep them waiting?”

A fierce-looking knight asked roughly. Soldiers stood in a long line behind them.

Under the sharp pressure bearing down on him, Tom’s back grew damp. Sweat streamed from his palms. Tom forced a smile.

“Ahaha, our commander is extremely thorough when he washes. He believes it’s a matter of manners. The Seventh Battalion’s reputation is so great that he seems to be taking even greater care to show proper respect.”

At the praise, the knight’s expression softened slightly.

“Ahem. He’s awfully particular for an Imperial bastard. Tell him to finish quickly.”

“Yes, yes. Understood.”

Tom bowed and scraped, then shut the door.

Only after closing it did Tom finally breathe. His back and hands were drenched in sweat. It felt as though a handful of his lifespan had been shaved away.

“We can’t hold them off much longer.”

Tom spoke to the unit members.

They had already sent them away several times. Each time, the knocking had grown harsher.

“It can’t be helped.”

Gilbert drew his sword.

“When the door opens, I’ll cut the knight’s neck. Damian will rush out through the opening, and Gwen will throw fire.”

“Explosive Fireball?”

“Yes, fire. The youngest will cover the rear.”

Gilbert’s orders were clear. Everyone nodded, and Tom was horrified.

“You mean to break through that?”

There were dozens of soldiers standing outside, not to mention the crossbows among them. How could they possibly break through that?

Then...

Bang, bang, bang!

The door shook as though it would break apart.

Gilbert gestured. Adrianna gripped her sword hilt. They looked ready to fight no matter what.

“What are you doing in there? Get out here now!”

The pounding was harsher than before, as though their patience had reached its limit. The door shook like it would splinter at any moment.

“I’ll hold them off.”

Tom hurried toward the door.

He grabbed the doorknob and racked his brain desperately. What would Commander Galahad have done...?

“We came here under the Grand Duke’s orders! Forcing your way in like this is rebellion against the Grand Duke!”

The knocking stopped briefly at his extreme words.

Only briefly.

“Quit talking shit and open the door! How dare you use the Grand Duke’s name?!”

It did not work.

Gilbert gestured, and everyone finished preparing.

They really intended to fight... Tom screamed inwardly.

“Open up! We won’t wait any longer!”

Bang!

The door cracked slightly. Tom bit his lip.

He had used bathing as an excuse, so he had to prove it.

“Everyone, please look away.”

At Tom’s request, they all turned their heads.

Without hesitation, Tom took off his armor. Every piece of it. Completely.

Tom slowly pulled the doorknob. The shaking door opened roughly.

Countless gazes struck him at once. Tom let out an unfeigned scream.

The knight, who had been fuming, froze at Tom’s completely naked body.

“Didn’t I say we were washing?!”

“Ahem. Finish getting ready. We can’t wait any longer. Orders have come from above.”

The knight stepped back.

Tom realized this was the last chance.

After quickly putting his armor back on, Tom readjusted his grip on his shield and blocked the door. Gilbert stood beside him. Damian prepared to dash out.

“You bastards!”

Then the knight forced their way in. Tom resisted desperately, but he could not withstand the knight. One kick sent Tom rolling across the floor. Gilbert inhaled.

At that moment, with everything on the line...

“The Seventh Battalion is quite impatient.”

A relaxed voice sounded. Everyone turned their heads at once.

Galahad was calmly smoothing back his hair. His neat clothes and clean face made him look exactly like someone who had just finished washing.

Even Tom was almost fooled.

The knight stepped back, seemingly flustered.

“Lead the way.”

Not a single drop of sweat stood on Galahad’s forehead as he said it.

* * *

Armed people and figures in black hoods sat around the banquet hall.

Raw meat and liquor filled the tables. They tore into the meat, blood dripping from it.

“How much longer are we supposed to wait?”

Deblian, an executive of the Dark Magic Society, frowned.

There was no anxiety in his voice, only irritation.

Now that he was beginning to feel full, he remembered his original purpose.

“They say he’s bathing to show proper manners before coming in.”

A mocking voice came from beside him.

“Bathing...”

Laughter broke out all around the room.

“Couldn’t he have some other scheme in mind?”

Someone raised the question then.

A brief silence followed before laughter erupted. The one who had spoken laughed first.

More than a hundred troops had been stationed around Galahad. If anything had gone wrong, a report would have arrived long ago.

Even if he somehow slipped through them unnoticed...

“What could he possibly do? This is already our territory.”

Deblian chuckled.

No matter what he did, the result was already decided. It would be nothing but meaningless struggling.

That was why they were dining at ease instead of pressing him.

“The Sanctuary will open soon.”

At Deblian’s declaration, exclamations rose from all around.

“We will usher in a new era.”

The deputy commander took up the words. Their voice brimmed with confidence. Everyone nodded.

Red eyes gleamed sinisterly in the darkness.

‘We’re almost there. The Society’s full emergence.’

Deblian murmured quietly.

Everything was perfect.

They had summoned Galahad, who was muddying the waters of the north, to the Seventh Battalion.

They would kill him and twist the relationship between the north and the Empire.

Then they would open the gate...

‘And usher in the age of dark magic.’

They would no longer hide.

“Still, isn’t he taking too long? We haven’t seen the executive wearing the Crow Mask either.”

Another executive muttered uneasily then. They were always the one making weak remarks.

Tch, ruining the mood...

“What does that matter when the Sanctuary is about to open?”

Deblian spoke with certainty.

“Adrianna? It doesn’t matter even if she comes herself. The Sanctuary is a grave for those who have not received the Selection. Aren’t there plenty of knights here who received it? Adrianna alone isn’t enough!”

At Deblian’s words, everyone burst out laughing. “Shh!” Deblian raised an index finger to his lips. Everyone waited for what would come next.

“She’ll have to bring the Grand Duke at least!”

The Grand Duke!

The laughter grew even louder.

Then the door opened roughly.

A clean, handsome nobleman who looked as though he belonged in the capital entered.

“Oh, everyone’s gathered. Sorry I’m late. Things took longer than I expected.”

Piercing stares fell on the man.

The man met them one by one.

As though carefully examining something...

“So it was a banquet after all.”

The man muttered something incomprehensible and headed for an empty seat.