WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

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

Chapter 52: Hostage 2

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“Don't move! If you do, I'll stab him!”

The tall, neat-looking man shouted as he pressed a cold sword to a small child's throat.

The child was painfully thin, as though they had not eaten properly in a long time, and swayed precariously in that rough grip.

Everyone froze at the sudden turn of events.

‘...?’

Harold, a first-class Gourmet, blinked.

So, was he...

‘Threatening them with his own companion as a hostage?’

Harold frowned as he finally understood the situation.

The woman clinging to the man's leg sobbed too desperately for it to be an act. Tears poured down her face as she begged him. There was no way that was fake.

Then there was the neat smile on the bastard holding a sword to the thin child's throat.

This did not seem like a simple performance.

Which raised a question.

‘But why threaten them with his own companion?’

Harold clicked his tongue at the idiot threatening others with his own companion.

“Stop.”

The Demonkin gave a low command.

The Demonkin's face twisted slightly.

“What do you mean, stop?”

Harold asked, readjusting his grip on his sword.

“Yes, stop! If you want to keep a hole from appearing in this boy's throat!”

The man shouted, shaking the boy. Harold's brow furrowed.

“The child's safety comes first.”

The Demonkin actually took a step back. Every Demonkin wore the same expression, as if they were bound together as one.

“Good idea! I'm a very ruthless man!”

The man excitedly shook the boy again.

‘What the hell is this...?’

Harold's eyes narrowed at the situation, where their positions seemed to have reversed.

‘This is why Demonkin...’

Their calculations were clear. There was not the slightest gap in them, no hesitation, and no room for compromise.

It was true that the Gourmets had come at the Demonkin's request, but that was not the only reason.

Their target was the man called Galahad.

Ever since Galahad came to the north, the region had fallen into turmoil.

Quite a few people wanted him dealt with. The Gourmets were among them.

Above all...

‘This is Dawn's request.’

Harold's mouth went dry. Taking several requests had become a problem.

Who would have thought the Demonkin would suddenly back down?

‘If we keep going...’

Harold studied the Demonkin.

They still looked emotionless.

The Demonkin obediently stepped back.

If their priority was that boy...

‘We'll have to fight the Demonkin too.’

It had been a perfect trap with no escape.

Yet he had ruined it with a single move.

‘An impressive bastard.’

Harold could not help but admire the man smiling as he held a sword to the boy.

Still...

“Do you think he'll really stab him? Humans aren't like Demonkin. Could he really stab a young boy who is his own companion?”

Harold pointed at him as he spoke.

The Demonkin turned their heads.

The man under their gaze curled his lips.

“What do you think?”

He spun the sword.

It drew a graceful line through the air.

Normally, there was no way he would stab the boy's throat. The child was young, thin, and his companion.

But...

“Ah! No! Please!”

There was the woman begging at his side, the man holding her with a grief-stricken expression, and the knight who had turned his head away as though he could not bear to watch.

‘...Why does it feel like he really would?’

“The child's safety comes first. We have no intention of taking that risk.”

The Demonkin spoke firmly, still expressionless.

Harold bit his lip for a moment, then nodded.

It would complicate things, but...

‘First, get rid of the Demonkin.’

There was no reason to deal with the Demonkin as well.

Harold gestured to the Gourmets. Irritation filled their faces. Nothing was more humiliating than retreating with meat right in front of them.

Then...

“Oh? Their expressions are quite sinister! They look like they're thinking, ‘Let's get rid of these troublesome Demonkin, wait for a suitable chance, and ambush them!’ They also look like they're thinking, ‘Since the request was ruined, let's deal with the boy too!’”

The man began spouting bizarre nonsense.

“And Gourmets never give up prey once they've marked it. Isn't that right?”

He spoke as though he knew the Gourmets well.

Harold swallowed at the relaxed voice, which did not fit the situation.

The Demonkin turned toward him.

“...That's not true.”

“Hmm, look at those eyes twitching. Humans' eyes twitch when they lie. You're lying.”

At the man's continued urging, the mustached Demonkin drew its sword.

The Demonkin's blade was pointed not at him, but at the Gourmets.

“You son of a bitch.”

Harold spat out the curse.

There was no backing down now.

The Demonkin and Gourmets clashed.

* * *

‘...?’

Tom could barely follow what was happening.

When they came out for the ambush, they were surrounded by Demonkin. Then those strange people had appeared.

At the brink of death, Galahad suddenly put a sword to Damian's throat...

Then the people surrounding them started fighting among themselves.

“That man's swordsmanship is quite good.”

“I see. It looks like he learned from a promising knight in the capital.”

Gilbert and Galahad spoke calmly as they watched.

“Damian! Damian!”

“Gwen, pull yourself together. You're a mage now. You can't fall for mental interference so easily.”

“Huh? Ah?!”

Galahad snapped his fingers, and Gwen blinked. The tears streaming down her face stopped. Her gentle expression soon returned.

When Galahad received Damian, he had lightly touched Gwen’s head. It seemed he had done something then.

Shouts and screams erupted all around them. The people called Gourmets fought the Demonkin with a variety of weapons.

“They fight well.”

Galahad commented in a relaxed tone, as if it had nothing to do with him.

“Aura? Were they knights?”

The people called Gourmets were each releasing different kinds of aura. Gilbert pointed at them as he asked.

“To be precise, they're failed knights.”

“...Failed?”

“In the capital, they mass-produce knights. Defective products come out during the process. Like them.”

Galahad's casual answer made Gilbert frown. He seemed offended by the idea of knights being mass-produced.

“Can knights be mass-produced?”

“They're cultivated knights. Even successful ones are weaker than natural-born knights, and they can't grow any stronger. Still, they're stronger than ordinary soldiers.”

“What on earth are they used for?”

“They're used everywhere.”

At that moment, a long scream rang out. It came from the mustached Demonkin.

The mustached Demonkin moved fiercely, like a wolf among sheep. But the Gourmets did not simply take it.

They pressed the mustached Demonkin from every direction as if hunting a wild beast. Attacks and counters came in rapid succession.

The Demonkin was stronger, but the Gourmets had more people. The balance between them was fairly even.

“Everyone, get ready.”

“Huh? Ready for what?”

“They'll notice soon.”

“Notice what?”

“That I'm not so cruel after all.”

Galahad narrowed his eyes.

Tom nodded and loosened up. Gwen mouthed an incantation. Gilbert took a long breath and readjusted his grip on his sword.

Then...

Whoosh!

“Oh.”

At the sharp sound, Galahad snapped his fingers.

Thunk! A pointed arrow aimed at Damian struck something and fell.

“Look at that! What kind of hostage has someone blocking arrows for him?!”

One of the Gourmets shouted, waving a crossbow.

The battle stopped.

Everyone's eyes turned to Galahad.

“You deceived us.”

The mustached Demonkin spoke in an indifferent voice.

“Oh, you found out. Here, catch him, Gwen.”

Galahad lightly tossed Damian backward. Damian's throat, which had been hidden by the sword, was clean. There was not even a scratch.

“A pathetic trick...”

The mustached Demonkin frowned and raised its sword.

“Don't blame me. You're the fools for trying to negotiate with a hostage taker.”

Without hesitation, Galahad snapped his fingers.

Something flew out without a sound, and one Gourmet fell.

“That magic... You...!”

The largest Gourmet shouted in shock.

“How is that bald Gourmet doing? They must not be able to taste anything now that their tongue has been torn out.”

Galahad casually put a cigarette in his mouth.

“Now, let's all work together and protect Damian.”

At Galahad's calm words...

“Explosive Fireball!”

Gwen shouted louder than ever.

A fireball larger than usual shot forward. A thin Gourmet tried to cut it apart with an aura-infused sword.

The fireball exploded violently. Fierce flames swallowed the surrounding area in an instant.

“Aaargh!”

The harsh scream was the signal.

“I put it to good use. It's a fine sword.”

Galahad smiled and smoothly handed Tom the sword.

“You protect Damian.”

Tom took the sword and nodded firmly.

* * *

‘They caught on sooner than expected.’

Galahad clicked his tongue as he took out a cigarette.

Their numbers had dropped somewhat while they fought each other, though not as much as he had hoped.

Galahad formed another plan and ran through the calculations again.

After finishing quickly, he nodded.

“Sir Gilbert, capture that splendid mustached Demonkin. I'll buy you some time.”

“Yes.”

At Gilbert's brief reply, Galahad chuckled and snapped his fingers.

An Ice Spike shot forward.

Though it was too dark to see properly, one Gourmet twisted their sword and blocked it. They were quite skilled.

Crack! The Gourmet who had cut down the Ice Spike curled their lips in a clear sneer.

Galahad smiled back.

Then something embedded itself in the Gourmet's neck.

“Ghk...”

The Gourmet made a choking sound and fell backward. It was an Ice Spike.

How...?

Shock filled the Gourmet's eyes.

‘Hands come in pairs.’

Galahad smiled, waving his left hand.

He took a deep drag from his cigarette and looked around.

The people who had been fighting moments ago had apparently made up, because they were now approaching together.

“What faithless bastards.”

Galahad clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers again.

Another Ice Spike shot forward.

This time, the opponent gave a short swing of an aura-infused axe. They seemed wary of a second Ice Spike. They were certainly a quick learner.

Just as expected...

The aura-infused axe struck down the Ice Spike. But since the Gourmet had been guarding against a second Ice Spike, there was not much force behind the blow.

Unfortunately, this time there was only one Ice Spike.

It was that much thicker instead.

And it carried twice as much force.

The axe was pushed back, and shock appeared on the Gourmet's face. The Ice Spike, having forced aside the aura-infused axe, embedded itself in their stomach.

“Ghk...”

Only a low groan escaped the Gourmet.

An icy wind scattered Galahad's hair.

The Egg of Pain throbbed violently.

Then the Gourmets formed up. One stood at the front, two behind the lead Gourmet, then three more behind them.

The one in front would block the attack first, while those behind took turns stopping the spells.

It was a formation originally meant for fighting groups of mages.

They seemed to have accounted for how quickly Galahad could cast magic.

‘They are quite good.’

They were not called mage hunters for nothing.

An ordinary mage would have struggled against them.

Unfortunately...

Galahad was not an ordinary mage.

‘This should be fun.’

Galahad snapped his fingers.

Sparks burst repeatedly between them.

Crackle, crackle.

With those lively sounds, the sparks grew in an instant.

In a heartbeat, a splendid flower of lightning bloomed.

“Let's see if you can cut lightning too.”

Galahad muttered the joke and snapped his fingers.

The splendid lightning flower blossomed along his fingers.

Sparks stretched through the dark night as if growing, like the branches of a flower.

Even when they saw the lightning flower approaching, the Gourmets did not stop walking.

The lead Gourmet raised their aura and bravely swung their sword.

The blooming lightning made their faces look yellow. Confidence was written across them.

That confidence came from the aura lingering in their swords.

Aura was meant to cut through magic.

There was nothing conviction could not cut.

But there were a few problems now.

First, they were cultivated knights, not natural-born knights. Their conviction had been instilled in them.

The roots of instilled conviction could not run deep.

Second, as mentioned earlier, Galahad was not an ordinary mage.

Thump!

‘All right, calm down.’

Galahad clicked his tongue at the Egg of Pain urging him on.

Then the aura-infused sword cut cleanly through the lightning. Joy appeared on the lead Gourmet's face.

Ridiculously enough.

“Bloom.”

Galahad muttered softly.

The split lightning scattered in violent tendrils.

The branches of the lightning flower split into hundreds and spread outward.

The brilliantly blooming lightning was despair itself.

The group of Gourmets rushing forward stopped dead. Unspent lightning lashed wildly behind them.

Fragments of lightning scattered from their bodies and lit up the surroundings.

Shock appeared on the Gourmets' faces.

In the silence...

“Hoo. That was refreshing.”

Galahad swept back his hair with satisfaction.

His eyes followed Gilbert.

No, more precisely...

‘The mustached Demonkin.’

He watched the mustached Demonkin exchange blows with Gilbert.

* * *

‘What...?’

Bell Urthang, the mustached Demonkin, frowned.

Gilbert had been one of Adrianna's close retainers. Urthang knew he was an outstanding knight.

That was why Urthang had prepared seven retainers.

Seven retainers should have been enough to deal with him.

But the situation had gone strangely, and only five retainers remained.

Five should still have been enough.

The reason Urthang had prepared seven in the first place was Galahad.

Yet...

‘Why isn't this working?’

Bell Urthang muttered as he pulled back his sword.

Even now, Urthang's strength was greater than Gilbert's aura.

So why...

“Knight Gilbert!”

Urthang could not understand why he was being pushed back.

Bell Urthang's authority was stronger than Gilbert's aura. On top of that, Bell Urthang's swordsmanship was orthodox.

This should have been a fight Urthang won.

Yet Gilbert refused to fall.

The reason was...

‘His sword is faster than mine.’

Gilbert's sword was subtly faster. Bell Urthang could not understand it.

How could that man's sword be faster than his?

Their exchange continued at a rapid pace.

Then...

Bell Urthang's right arm shot into the air. Blood sprayed in a long arc. His sword rolled across the ground.

“That was disappointing.”

Gilbert pointed his sword at Urthang's neck. Gilbert was not in good shape either. He had charged in recklessly, and his armor had been cut in several places.

His eyes, on the other hand, still burned brightly.

“Why is your sword faster?”

At Urthang's question, Gilbert tilted his sword.

“You're a smart knight. That's why your sword is slow.”

Smart, so his sword was slow?

Then the reason Gilbert's sword was fast...

“Are you saying your sword is fast because you're stupid?”

“What? You damned bastard!”

Bell Urthang frowned at Gilbert, who shouted in anger.

Was that not what Gilbert himself had just said?

Then a violent explosion rang out. Hot air brushed Urthang's cheek.

When he turned his head, he saw the Gourmets retreating. Galahad rushed through them, looking a mess. His neatly swept-back hair was thoroughly disheveled.

“Sir Gilbert, could you lend me that for a moment? I have an urgent use for it.”

Galahad spoke as he swept back his hair. Behind him, the Gourmets and retainers were rushing toward them. Their numbers had fallen considerably, but Urthang's side still had more people.

Victory was on Urthang's side.

“Yes, here you are.”

Gilbert handed Urthang over. Urthang frowned at being treated like an object.

Then Galahad roughly grabbed Urthang by the throat.

His grip was so strong that Urthang's breath caught at once.

‘What...’

Galahad lifted Urthang high.

Then...

“Now, we've done this once, so I trust you'll understand quickly. Move, and this man's head will burst.”

He gave the same polite threat.

The people approaching stopped dead at the sight of Urthang dangling from Galahad's grip.

Several of them frowned. Others readjusted their weapons.

“He pulled the same shit earlier! Don't stop!”

Someone shouted harshly.

“Ah, right.”

Galahad whispered and grabbed Urthang's left shoulder.

When Galahad lightly tapped it with his finger...

“What...?”

Flames erupted fiercely from Urthang's left shoulder.

The flames were so violent that they drove back all the darkness around them. Everyone stopped moving.

In the heavy silence...

“Ah, this time it's real.”

Galahad added casually and snapped his fingers.

Urthang's charred arm rolled across the ground.

‘What is this...?’

Urthang frowned.

Then Galahad pulled him close.

Galahad drew Urthang right in front of him, as if inspecting him.

With darkened eyes, he asked,

“Well? Does it still seem like a joke?”

There was not the slightest trace of laughter in his voice.

Footnotes:

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The Northern Grand Duke's Mad Son-in-Law - Chapter 52 - We Tried TLS