WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Ceaseless
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◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈
Chapter 5: Maid
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‘So this is the Northern Wall.’
Galahad was sincerely impressed by the white wall that stretched endlessly across the land, as if dividing the world itself.
“A friend once told me that if I ever came north, I had to see the Northern Wall. It really is incredible.”
“......Why are you talking about the Northern Wall like it’s some tourist attraction?”
“That’s how impressive it is.”
“It is humanity’s final line of defense against the Demonkin.”
Gilbert narrowed his eyes. Galahad chuckled at that shameless answer.
“The crossbows are pointed this way.”
“Just in case.”
Gilbert smiled darkly.
“Right. Just in case.”
At that moment, the bearded man took out a massive horn. After noisily wiping his mouth with smacking sounds, he blew into it.
Bwooooooo-!
The horn resounded loudly enough to wake the world.
Silver figures appeared atop the wall. They were too far away to see clearly, but they looked like soldiers. Every one of them wore iron armor. Galahad marveled at the sight.
More and more soldiers climbed up until the top of the wall was full.
Bwooooooo-!
When the horn sounded again, the center of the white wall split apart with a heavy rumble.
Thick piles of snow fell away, revealing a gigantic iron-bar gate. With a screech, the bars slowly rose as snow whipped through the air.
Huge clumps of snow fell as though a snow-covered mountain were collapsing.
Galahad narrowed his eyes and watched.
Boom!
Drums sounded in the distance. The soldiers raised their spears at once. It was like a synchronized dance, except with spears. Their sharp tips gleamed in the sunlight. The raised spears came down and struck the ground. A deep sound spread as if the earth itself had shaken, and snow flew wildly through the air.
Creak-.
The iron bars finally reached the top. Boom! The drums rang out again, followed by the spears striking down.
‘It’s like a well-produced musical.’
Galahad was honestly impressed. It was an awe-inspiring display, though he could barely see it through the blizzard.
Bwooooooo-!
The horn and drums sounded again. In time with them, the spears came down.
“Did they practice this for me?”
“......It just happened to be the right time.”
Judging by Gilbert’s awkward cough, Galahad’s suspicion seemed to be correct.
“I’m touched.”
“...They do this normally.”
Boom!!!
Then the gates opened completely. The view beyond them resembled another city at a glance, yet it was entirely different.
Everyone wore thick fur clothing, making them look like animals from afar, and each person carried something on their back, such as a harpoon or crossbow.
Even the supplies being moved around all looked like they were meant for war.
‘They’re preparing for war.’
The bearded man pointed his horn at Galahad and shouted.
“The Empire’s mage has arrived!!”
Sharp gazes and jeers poured down on him. Galahad clicked his tongue.
He waved in response to the grand introduction, but there was no cheering. The jeers only grew louder.
It was the complete opposite of the admiring looks he had received in the capital for being a mage. These eyes were full of hostility.
The bearded man smiled in satisfaction. What childish interference.
‘They say northerners are all manly men, but I guess that isn’t always true.’
Clicking his tongue, Galahad called out to the bearded bastard. The man grinned.
“Next time, introduce me as a capable mage. Doesn’t just calling me a mage sell me short?”
The bearded man’s smile vanished. His eyes seemed to say, What kind of bastard is this?
“Or an outstanding mage would work too. It feels strange saying it myself, but I’ve got a pretty good record.”
The bearded man shouted something Galahad could not understand, then stomped away.
“What did he say just now?”
“He said, ‘That cursed Demonkin byproduct scum dares to act up. You’re ugly enough to make people lose their appetite too.’ Why provoke him?”
“I only told the truth. But did he really say I was ugly enough to make people lose their appetite?”
Gilbert quietly turned his head away.
So he had not said that. Galahad frowned at such petty jealousy.
‘We’ve finally arrived.’
Galahad muttered as he looked at the inner fortress in the distance.
He had crossed the continent in a carriage.
Wasn’t that rather romantic?
Of course, beneath it all was an ugly political struggle.
‘Now I’ll finally get to see my famous wife.’
* * *
He could not.
After passing through the gates, Galahad was brought to a huge annex. He was placed in its largest room.
Gilbert repeatedly warned him not to come out until he received further instructions, then disappeared.
Men with vicious faces stood guard outside the door. They did not speak the imperial language, so he could not communicate with them.
They simply blocked the door and prevented Galahad from leaving. When he tried to step out, they even raised axes with gleaming blades at him.
‘I’m imprisoned.’
He had traveled halfway across the continent, only to be locked in an annex the moment he arrived.
It was absurd, but it was one of the possibilities Galahad had considered.
The worst one.
‘Are they planning to leave me here to rot?’
The room was large and barren. It only contained necessities, such as a bed. The one unusual thing was...
‘Why is there a chandelier? Are they expecting me to hold a banquet?’
He stared at the lavish chandelier hanging from the ceiling, which did not suit the bleak room at all. Whoever had designed the place was clearly an awful person.
Galahad sat in a chair and organized his thoughts.
Would anyone contact him? He slowly shook his head.
Galahad’s family had influence in the center, but not enough to extend all the way to the north.
On top of that, he was the third son, not the eldest. To the north, his status was completely worthless.
He did have the title of genius mage, but in a region that rejected magic, even that was a disadvantage.
In other words, Galahad had no merits in the Grand Duke’s eyes.
In contrast, the Grand Duke’s eldest daughter, Adrianna, was a northern hero. As the youngest Sword Master, she was constantly earning achievements on the battlefield.
The Grand Duke might have wanted to keep Adrianna in check, but that was highly unlikely. His love for Adrianna was well known.
Galahad examined the situation as though he were the Grand Duke himself.
He did not know what kind of power struggle had taken place, but the Grand Duke had been unable to refuse a marriage with a count’s third son.
‘Of course he wouldn’t like it.’
The proof was that he had only sent one narrow-eyed man as Galahad’s escort, guide, and driver. If the marriage had been welcome, he would not have sent only one person.
The north was declining, while its enemy, the Demonkin, remained strong. If they fell out with the Empire under such circumstances, the barren north would be finished. That was why the Grand Duke had allowed Galahad into the castle for now.
‘That doesn’t mean he actually plans to let us marry.’
He would keep Galahad locked in this room, putting off the marriage with one excuse after another. Then, once he found a way to call it off after dragging things out...
‘He’ll discard me.’
Galahad swallowed dryly.
That would be enough for the Grand Duke. There had never been any benefit for the Empire in marrying the Grand Duke’s eldest daughter to Galahad in the first place.
They would only want to keep up appearances.
Which meant the one who would lose out was...
‘Me.’
It was a mystery why he had been chosen in the first place. Galahad swallowed dryly again.
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on the door. When he opened it, a black-haired beauty in a maid’s uniform looked up at him with a frightened expression.
“M-M-My name is Gwen! I’ve been assigned to attend to you, Lord Galahad!”
The woman who introduced herself as Gwen muttered in a timid voice. Her large eyes made her look like a puppy caught in the rain.
She was clearly beautiful, but she carried such a gloomy air that she looked ready to cry at any moment.
Galahad frowned at Gwen’s overly timid manner.
“I don’t need anyone to attend to me.”
“B-But... I have to empty your chamber pot and bring you meals...”
“Ah. So that means I’m not supposed to take a single step outside.”
At Galahad’s words, Gwen jerkily nodded and shrank back.
Armed men stood behind Gwen. Every one of them had a weapon drawn.
They certainly took their jobs seriously. Galahad waved in greeting, but their response was cold.
‘Do people here not wave back?’
The door slammed shut.
Gwen screamed and sprawled face-first on the floor. How did someone even fall so completely flat like that? Intrigued, Galahad helped her up.
“T-Thank you.”
As Galahad supported Gwen, he poured mana into her to examine her. It was an occupational habit.
‘She has a lot of mana.’
Most people possessed at least some mana, even if they were not mages. Still, Gwen had far too much for him to dismiss it as ordinary.
“Are you a mage?”
Galahad narrowed his eyes. Giving him a mage as a maid made their intentions obvious...
Gwen immediately looked as though she were about to cry. She reacted as if he had insulted her parents.
“......N-No. I’m not a mage.”
“Are you saying you aren’t a mage?”
“...I’m absolutely not one of those cursed Demonkin filth mages! I don’t know anything about magic! Really! Please believe me!”
Gwen suddenly clung to his leg and burst into tears. Galahad, one of those cursed Demonkin filth mages, scratched his chin.
He had heard that northerners had a poor view of mages, but was it really this bad? This was practically the reaction people had to witches in the old days.
Galahad, who had proudly announced himself as a mage at the gates, scratched his cheek. This would be exhausting. He might even become the victim of a hate crime. This was why being a mage was tiresome.
Still, with a reaction like that, she likely was not a mage.
Then that enormous mana reservoir was pure talent...
“Alright. You’re not a mage.”
Gwen thanked him for believing her, then started crying again. She was a remarkably tearful woman.
‘Then did her mana reservoir develop because of the high mana concentration?’
In any case, Gwen was not the important matter right now.
‘They really intend to keep me locked up.’
They had even assigned him a maid. It meant they did not want him leaving at all.
Hmm.
Galahad sat back down in his chair and let out a low hum. There was nothing he could do right now.
Getting angry or despairing in a situation like this would not help.
It was a foregone conclusion that he would be staying in this room for several days. He needed to find something he could do and do it.
‘The mana concentration is high.’
The first thing that came to mind was the mana concentration he had felt earlier.
Perhaps because the north bordered the Demonkin, the mana concentration here was far greater than in the central region.
He slowly circulated his mana. It felt heavy.
No mage recorded exact figures for mana.
Everyone had different standards for mana, and the mana concentration in the atmosphere changed constantly, making precise records impossible. To avoid waste, most mages preferred using magic circles and Magic Stones.
As a result, mages here were closer to magical engineers. They received better treatment, so there was no reason for them to jump into the mud themselves.
There were more mages than before, but true mages had become rarer instead.
Galahad’s solution for measuring mana concentration was simple.
Korean-style rote learning. Shut up and memorize it.
It had been the method he cursed and hated most in high school, but nothing was more practical.
He repeated the most basic spell, Mana Arrow, countless times. He trained his senses until he could cast it without thinking.
He defined his mana quantity based on Mana Arrow. As a result, he only needed to cast it once anywhere to calculate the mana concentration by his own standard.
He had done that when he was six years old.
‘About twice as much.’
Galahad muttered as he looked at the Mana Arrow floating over his hand.
The mana concentration was twice as high as in the central region.
It was an absurd figure.
High mana concentration was both an advantage and a disadvantage.
Magic normally used one’s own mana to bind and use the mana in the atmosphere, but if the atmospheric concentration was too high, it could instead drain mana away when casting a spell.
To prevent that, he needed to maintain a higher mana concentration himself. That process was compression. Mana was sensitive, and if it was compressed too strongly, it would solidify instead.
A magical process that was already complicated became several times harder.
In short, it was an absurd amount of suffering.
Still, the high concentration would greatly increase his power.
‘Good.’
Galahad smiled sincerely.
It was a crude method, but also an effective form of training.
If he could maintain this high mana concentration, he could raise his own mana concentration further. His Mana Sensitivity would improve greatly as well.
‘It’s been a while since I trained.’
Galahad deliberately kept his mana concentration right at the edge. One small mistake could severely damage his mana circuits.
That kept him sharply focused.
Galahad’s mind gradually settled.
Once he cast magic, all other thoughts disappeared.
Galahad was a true mage.
* * *
‘...He’s smiling in this situation?’
Gwen’s eyes widened as she watched Galahad shine.
Galahad was practically imprisoned.
He had come to a foreign land outside the Empire, had not even seen the woman who was supposed to become his wife, and was now locked up.
Yet he was smiling.
A faint smile rested on Galahad’s face. The emotion within it was a kind of joyous madness.
It was the brightest expression Gwen had ever seen. What could he possibly be doing to enjoy himself that much?
Her gaze naturally moved to Galahad’s hand. Light flashed around it.
It was definitely magic. Gwen could not look away from its splendor.
Magic was filthy, cursed Demonkin waste.
Gwen, who carried a mage’s bloodline, had heard those words until her ears rang.
Being despised as the filthy child of a mage was nothing unusual, and she had faced death threats countless times.
The only reason Gwen had been able to work as a maid at all was because of Adrianna.
That was why Gwen hated magic more than anyone.
She had to. She was supposed to.
‘It’s beautiful.’
The crystal gathered in Galahad’s hand was far too beautiful.
Beautiful enough to make her eyes sting with tears.
She could not look away. Its radiance and beauty were enough to rival even Adrianna’s.
Gwen wondered why he wore that expression.
Without realizing it, she moved her fingers.
A small light lingered at Gwen’s fingertips before disappearing. Even she could tell it was pitifully weak, but it brought a thrill and freedom unlike anything she had experienced in her life.
Gwen laughed out loud for the first time in a very long while.
No, perhaps for the first time ever.
Then the broom she was holding fell over with a loud crash.
Gwen came to her senses and felt intense self-loathing.
Magic was what had pushed her into suffering her entire life. She had cast the very magic that had tormented her because of her filthy bloodline.
Gwen dug her nails deeply into her forearm until it bled. Her mind, which had only barely returned to her, was drawn toward magic again. Desperately, she shut her eyes and began wiping the floor.
Crash-.
Naturally, she broke a dish.
* * *
Galahad wondered whether what he had just seen was real.
She cast magic just by watching him?
‘......She’s a real genius.’
Galahad was sincerely impressed.
Had there been someone named Gwen in the novel? Maybe there had been...
‘I want her.’
Galahad smacked his lips as he looked at Gwen. Gwen tightly shut her eyes.
Footnotes:
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