WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Ceaseless
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈
Chapter 69: Sensitive Gwen
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“Damian has disappeared.”
At Gilbert’s urgent report, Galahad ran his fingers over the knife in his pocket.
“He hasn’t gone far yet.”
“...What?”
“Did you think I’d leave no safeguards in place when those Demonkin bastards playing at nobility were after Damian?”
Relief appeared on Gilbert’s face.
Galahad gripped the knife and moved his mana. Despite having suffered mana exhaustion, it responded obediently.
Thump! Thump!
The Egg of Pain claimed credit.
Tracking Magic was a basic skill for an agent. To use it, though, two linked objects engraved with magic circles had to be prepared in advance.
One belonged to the target, and the other to the caster.
The target’s object had to be something they would not likely part with. Like Damian’s fork.
‘He’s gotten a little farther away. Is he moving?’
Galahad tapped the knife.
There was a good chance it was the work of those Demonkin bastards from House Proxel.
He had expected them to make a move, but not that they would have the nerve to cause trouble inside the Grand Duke’s castle.
‘This could be put to good use.’
He could make the Grand Duke pay dearly for this.
Of course, Damian mattered more right now.
“When did he disappear?”
“They said he vanished while Gwen stepped away for a moment.”
“Did you make sure he ate properly?”
“Yes, we definitely fed him. Damian...”
“Calm down. Damian isn’t in danger.”
Those Proxel bastards valued Damian. He did not know what they were plotting, but Damian was not in immediate danger.
Galahad intended to let them draw him in a little deeper.
When catching bugs, one had to find their nest.
Still, they had been cautious enough to move alongside the Gourmets.
He had no idea what traps they might have set, so he needed a reliable way to deal with them.
“This is a crisis.”
“What?”
Galahad smiled at Gilbert’s uneasy question.
“We’ll need the rookie.”
Gilbert frowned deeply.
“That kid came back?”
Galahad nodded and studied Gilbert.
Gilbert was a typical northern knight. His convictions were as solid as he was dim-witted. He was a man like a crude broadsword.
If it was Gilbert, such an excellent knight...
Galahad forcefully suppressed his excitement.
“What do you think about the Demon King?”
Gilbert’s face immediately twisted.
“What? What kind of bullshit is that? Since when did the Demonkin have a king?”
There was an odd irritation in Gilbert’s voice.
“I see.”
Galahad nodded and put a cigarette in his mouth.
Nothing had changed.
“But what’s taking that kid so long? Isn’t the rookie getting too complacent?”
Gilbert’s expression changed again.
“Right. Make sure you straighten out their discipline.”
“Leave it to me.”
“Yes, I’m counting on you.”
Galahad chuckled.
* * *
‘Ah... I made a mistake.’
Adrianna let out a quiet breath.
Startled when Galahad came too close, she had pushed him away.
[Aaah! You cursed bitch!]
The scream echoed through her mind.
It was true.
Adrianna’s disposition was a curse.
A terrible curse that inflicted unbearable pain on anyone she touched, even driving them to death.
The only thing she could do was direct that curse toward the Demonkin.
That was supposed to be all.
‘Why did that man...?’
Adrianna narrowed her eyes.
Galahad was different from anyone she had met before.
Even while screaming, he had not let go.
He had gripped her even tighter.
He was an incomprehensible man.
Adrianna was flustered.
She knew he did not care much about personal space, but this time he had come too close.
Truly close.
Startled by it, she had used her strength.
Once the awkward warmth faded and she thought it over, Adrianna realized she had overreacted.
‘I should apologize.’
Adrianna muttered quietly.
She looked into the basket beside her. There were six canteens filled with Demonkin blood.
‘I’ll give him these and apologize.’
Adrianna exhaled again.
The thought of apologizing to Galahad made her head spin.
His words about holding an engagement ceremony in three months came to mind.
Galahad took it for granted, but an engagement ceremony was not something light to Adrianna. No, it did not suit her.
The front line was where Adrianna belonged.
The only beings she could touch were the Demonkin...
‘I can’t get dragged into this again.’
Adrianna’s eyes darkened.
‘Let’s make a plan.’
To avoid being dragged around by Galahad, who could go off in any direction, she needed a solid plan.
‘Commander Galahad is staying in the outer castle. I’ll go there... give him the canteens and emphasize the distance between us.’
Adrianna made a serious plan for apologizing. She checked it over several times.
‘Good.’
It was a perfect apology plan, with no chance of being dragged into anything.
Adrianna gathered the canteens and headed for the door.
Give him the canteens, apologize, exchange a brief greeting, then turn around and leave...
After reviewing the plan, Adrianna opened the door.
Then she froze in that exact position.
“Ah, you came out at the right time. Here, put this on right away. We’re in a hurry.”
The possibility that Galahad would be standing directly outside her door, holding out crude armor, had not been part of her plan.
“...What?”
Another foolish answer slipped out.
“One of our unit members has been kidnapped, and I believe the culprits are Demonkin. They’re from House Proxel, bastards who pretend to be nobles. I need your help. Put it on, quickly.”
“No...”
“Ah, are you asking why we don’t request support from the Grand Duke? I already did. He told me to take you with me.”
“When did you...?”
“At the meal earlier, I requested authority to deploy you. The justification was the engagement ceremony in three months.”
“Then why the armor...?”
“Ah, I got it from the supply depot. Are you asking why you have to play the rookie? You’re too well-known. If you come with us openly, they’ll all run away. Now, are there any problems left?”
Adrianna’s lips moved.
Annoyingly, there was nothing she could point out.
“Come on, put it on. This is a sword. It’s a little heavier than yours, but the size is the same.”
Bang.
‘...?’
Adrianna looked back and forth between the shut door and the stupid-looking helmet and armor that had somehow ended up in her hands.
She had been had again...
* * *
“The commander said Damian will be all right. Hmm...”
Tom felt a little relieved at Gilbert’s muttering.
When Damian suddenly disappeared, his heart had dropped into his stomach.
Gwen had run out crying, and Gilbert had gone to Galahad as well.
Tom stayed behind and packed their things. He did what he could.
His worry had not disappeared, but Galahad said everything would be fine, so Tom managed to calm down a little.
He checked the cargo in the carriage. The newly supplied carriage was far cleaner and larger than their old one. Even the tied horses were in excellent condition.
It was clear that the Special Operations Unit had gained recognition.
Tom checked the supplies once more and fed the horses.
Gwen returned a little later, her eyes full of tears. It was similar to how she usually was. Gwen cried easily.
The problem was...
‘Why does she have fire on her body...? No, ice too?’
Fire burned over Gwen’s left shoulder, while ice crumbled down from her right. Calling it flashy did not begin to cover it.
The question was why she was crying while looking like that.
She had seemed calmer lately, but Damian’s disappearance appeared to have affected her badly.
‘Gwen especially likes children.’
Tom discreetly turned his head.
A familiar figure stood beside Galahad when he returned shortly afterward.
‘...Lady Adrianna?’
Her helmet and armor were different from before, but the broad, bulky impression was the same. There was an oddly clumsy, foolish air about her.
Still, even armor could not hide her nobility.
‘No...’
Tom urgently looked at Gilbert. Gilbert sprang to his feet.
Tom screamed inwardly, but sadly, Gilbert did not hear him.
“Rookie! What the hell were you doing that took you this long? How slow can you be? This is hopeless.”
Gilbert immediately did something terrible.
It was Gilbert’s own rough way of welcoming someone, but the person he was addressing was Adrianna, the North’s hero.
What was he thinking, saying something so awful to her...
“Is everything ready?”
Galahad asked Tom.
He looked oddly pleased.
“Yes, we can depart immediately.”
“Good. As expected of Tom. Let’s go at once.”
“Da... Damian...!”
Gwen interrupted then. Galahad let out a small gasp of admiration when he saw her flashy shoulders.
“Oh, Gwen. Excellent.”
“Damian disappeared! It’s my fault! I got distracted by a bet!”
“Yes, it is your fault.”
Galahad nodded lightly.
Tears dripped from Gwen’s eyes. The fire grew stronger. Ice showered down. Galahad’s lips curled up slightly.
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
Galahad casually brushed Gwen’s shoulders. The flames and ice vanished when his hand touched them.
Gwen looked up at him. Since she was short and Galahad was tall, she had to crane her neck almost painfully far back.
Galahad looked at Gwen and spoke seriously.
“What matters is correcting your mistake and not repeating it.”
His voice was completely serious.
“...Can we find Damian?”
“Of course. I’ll need a little help from you, though.”
“I’ll do it!”
“Good. Then let’s depart.”
At Galahad’s command, Tom hurried toward the carriage.
No, he tried to.
Galahad stopped Tom from getting in.
“Only Gwen should ride in the carriage.”
Galahad got into the carriage with Gwen alone.
Tom suddenly found himself seated between Gilbert and Adrianna. Sitting beside Adrianna...
He could barely breathe.
“Rookie, what in the world were you doing? Why did it take you so long? And if you were going somewhere, you should’ve at least said goodbye to me first...”
Every time Gilbert spoke, Tom felt years being shaved off his life.
Then part of the carriage wall broke apart with a small crack. Tom let out a startled cry.
What broke through the wall was the knife used during meals.
The knife was slightly bent.
As if it were pointing out a direction...
“Is this the direction?”
“That question must have been Sir Gilbert’s.”
“You could’ve just said yes...”
Gilbert grumbled softly.
* * *
“Gwen, you have a large mana pool. An unusually large one. I wasn’t wrong to think you were a mage when we first met.”
“Huh?”
Gwen’s eyes widened at Galahad’s sudden praise.
“You have the talent to imitate magic even when you don’t understand it. It’s closer to an authority than talent. Ah, pretend you didn’t hear that last part.”
Galahad snapped his fingers.
“This duel confirmed it. You’re weak against flashy magic. Whenever you see beautiful magic, you copy it regardless of its rank. Of course, consciously casting it will require a great deal of effort...”
Galahad looked over the tearful Gwen.
Just before, she had been wearing Galahad’s magic and Bunch’s magic on her shoulders.
Both were high-ranking spells. Using both at once was beyond what Gwen could usually do.
Galahad considered the reason.
‘Damian.’
Damian’s disappearance had clearly affected Gwen.
Gwen copied magic because she was captivated by its beauty.
Both were actions rooted in emotion.
‘Gwen is influenced by emotion.’
Mages were supposed to keep their distance from emotion.
There was a reason people said a mage had to remain cool-headed.
Yet here was a mage who used magic through emotion...
‘Interesting.’
If emotions affected magic, all he had to do was provoke those emotions.
Galahad lightly tapped the knife.
“I cast Tracking Magic on Damian’s fork. As long as he doesn’t move beyond its range, we can roughly tell which direction he’s in.”
“Really?! Oh, that’s such a relief!”
“But my mana is unstable after mana exhaustion.”
“What?”
“The range is shorter than usual. Those bastards are moving faster than expected too... Hmm, this is troublesome.”
It was not a lie. The other side was moving quite fast. They were clearly traveling on horses rather than in a carriage.
It was a troublesome situation. The effectiveness of Tracking Magic depended not on mana concentration, but on the amount of mana.
Gwen was better suited for it than Galahad. That was why he sent the others to the driver’s seat.
“Wh... what do we do?!”
“You need to cast this magic. Your mana pool is unusually large, so you can do it.”
“But I can’t see it!”
She was right.
Tracking Magic was an extremely practical spell. It was stealthy and had no form. Naturally. If Tracking Magic were flashy, would it really be Tracking Magic?
It was a spell Gwen could never find beautiful.
‘Then I’ll make it flashy.’
That would make the spell considerably more complex, but Gwen was Gwen.
Galahad gently closed his eyes and examined the spell.
He took apart Tracking Magic, extracted the core of its principles, then added extravagant formulas to it.
Since Tracking Magic was a basic skill for agents, it did not take long.
“Watch carefully.”
Galahad held his index finger before Gwen’s eyes. Her gaze crossed as it focused on his long finger.
A spark rose from his fingertip, leaping between his fingers and growing larger.
Soon, a small but splendid flower of lightning bloomed. It traveled along the knife and disappeared outside.
“Ah! It stings!”
Gwen cried out in amazement.
“Try it.”
Gwen, her eyes unfocused, raised her hand blankly. Sparks flew from her palm. It was rougher than Galahad’s, but a flower of lightning bloomed there.
It was fairly impressive.
The problem was...
‘She couldn’t put it into the knife.’
The most important part, releasing it, had failed.
She needed a little more motivation.
Galahad narrowed his eyes as he looked at Gwen.
“With the magic I just showed you, we can chase Damian. Hmm, my hand is getting weak.”
As he subtly reduced his mana, the sparks around the knife visibly weakened.
Desperation filled Gwen’s face.
“No!”
“I can only go this far. Now you have to do it. Take the knife.”
Galahad handed the knife to Gwen.
Gwen clumsily gripped it.
“I... I can’t! You only showed me once!”
Galahad firmly grasped Gwen’s round head. Her head was so small that he could hold it in one hand.
“You can do it. Didn’t you just do it? You only need to do that again.”
“But...”
Galahad pressed down on Gwen’s head. Her mouth snapped shut.
“You can do it. If you fail, Damian... Hmm, he won’t be able to eat that meat he likes so much anymore.”
Gwen sniffled loudly. Galahad leaned close to her ear and whispered about how pitiful Damian was. With his other hand, he continued tracking Damian.
After a while, Gwen bit her lip hard and gripped the knife firmly.
The mana pouring from her was no joke.
‘Emotion truly does play a role.’
Galahad was beginning to understand how to use Gwen.
* * *
“No, where am I supposed to go?”
Gilbert frowned at the knife.
It was strange enough to guide a carriage by watching a knife, but now the knife had suddenly stopped too.
“Where do we go? We’ll lose them at this rate!”
Gilbert shouted as he knocked on the carriage.
The knife moved slightly. Gilbert quickly grabbed the reins.
After traveling for some time, he checked the knife again. Unlike before, it was shaking violently.
‘Where am I supposed to go?’
Then golden sparks began to fly around the knife.
The sparks, small at first, grew thicker before shooting out wildly.
“What is this?”
Gilbert frowned and slightly raised his coat. It was made from Monster hide.
Before long...
The thickened sparks burst past the knife.
They looked like lightning.
Lightning striking upward from the ground toward the sky...
Tom screamed at the golden streaks spilling from the knife. Clicking his tongue, Gilbert pulled Tom closer.
“Damian is waiting for us!”
Galahad’s strange shout rang out then.
The spreading lightning slowly subsided. Soon, it became a thick streak.
A golden line stretched long before them, as if the lightning had been pressed flat.
As if it were pointing out a direction...
“What is this?”
No one could answer Gilbert’s muttering.
“Rookie! Hold the reins properly!”
Tom came to his senses at Gilbert’s scolding of Adrianna.
He hurriedly pulled out a map.
If they followed that direction...
‘That’s Hellove?’
The number of battalions had dwindled over the long war against the Demonkin, but there used to be more battalions in the North.
Hellove was the city once overseen by the now-vanished Fifteenth Battalion.
It had once been the largest city in the North, but it had been destroyed in a Demonkin attack.
That had happened a very long time ago.
Now it was little more than a ghost story. Why were they heading there...?
But there was a real ghost story elsewhere.
“Rookie, I’m bored. Sing us a song.”
Tom found this far more frightening than any ghost story.
Footnotes:
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