WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

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

Chapter 7: Imperial Bastard

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‘There won’t be any more crazy shit, right?’

Gilbert suddenly grew worried as he looked toward the annex Adrianna had entered.

“Hmm, should I cut off his head or tear out his heart?”

At that moment, a petite woman with braided pigtails tilted her head irritably. It was Mardian, who was pathologically obsessed with Adrianna.

“No, I’ll smash his head myself.”

Hermun, a man built like a bear, muttered in a low voice. The air around him seemed to grow heavy.

“Get lost. I’m going to rip out his guts and spread them on bread.”

“You get lost. It’s my job to deal with the bastard who insulted Adrianna.”

Gilbert clicked his tongue at the pointless argument.

“What kind of person is Galahad?”

Lunabirn asked calmly. Everyone turned to Gilbert.

“That’s right! Gilbert! Didn’t I tell you to kill him on the way here? You could’ve just said bandits or wolves tore him apart!”

Mardian snapped in a shrill voice. Mardian’s obsession with Adrianna was well known. Mardian was not called crazy for nothing.

“What kind of man is he?”

What kind of person was Galahad?

“A con artist.”

Galahad made pointless jokes and bragged about being an outstanding mage.

Yet he had struggled against a lord with only a little Demonkin blood. He was clearly nothing more than a boastful fraud.

“We have to kill him! He’ll definitely deceive innocent Lady Adrianna with that wicked tongue! We need to tear it out!”

“A con artist, huh? Sounds like he’s nothing special.”

Once again, murderous words flew through the air.

‘Still, it felt like there was something about him.’

Every time Gilbert saw him, Galahad made him uneasy, like a thorn lodged in his throat. Gilbert swallowed the rest of that thought.

The annex door opened, and Adrianna stepped outside. Mardian flinched like a dog desperate to relieve itself.

“What did that bastard do? I’ll cut off his head right now. Or at least an arm...”

Adrianna casually hid one hand behind her back. At that subtle reaction, Mardian’s face stiffened.

“He held my hand.”

For a brief moment, Adrianna wore an expression none of them had ever seen before. Then, as if it had never happened, her usual blank expression returned.

The atmosphere sharpened in an instant, but Adrianna did not seem to care.

She had never been interested in anything that was not the front line.

“Wasn’t he a mage? Then it must’ve hurt even more...”

Adrianna nodded at Lunabirn’s question.

Everyone here knew that Adrianna burned mana.

Even non-mages often fainted from the terrible pain if they so much as brushed against Adrianna.

The greater someone’s mana, the worse that pain became. Yet a mage had held her hand...

“He must’ve screamed in agony! Ahaha! Idiot! That’s what he gets for daring to touch Lady Adrianna!”

“He probably pissed and shit himself! Stupid bastard! It’s a shame I didn’t get to see it.”

They all loudly mocked the foolish mage.

They knew that pain, so none of them questioned it.

As the story grew more exaggerated, until someone said the mage had died in agony with his tongue hanging out, Adrianna opened her mouth.

“He interlaced our fingers. He said he was curious about the principle behind it...”

Adrianna’s flat voice silenced everyone who had been talking loudly just moments ago.

Even crazy Mardian had only ever held Adrianna’s hand lightly.

But that mage had interlaced their fingers...

Different expressions appeared on their faces. Anger, irritation, disbelief...

Their expressions differed, but at their core, they were all horrified.

Even Mardian could only open and close her mouth.

‘He really is insane.’

Things had become strange when he killed that lord, and now he had interlaced fingers with Adrianna because he was curious about the principle behind it...

Gilbert laughed out loud without realizing it.

Adrianna turned her gaze to him.

“Gilbert, remain here and protect him.”

It was an unexpected order.

Adrianna had always put the front line first. She never stayed away from it herself. Yet she was assigning Gilbert, one of their key forces, to guard duty. It was not like her.

“...Yes, understood.”

Gilbert had questions, but he nodded without asking them.

“The rest of us will return immediately.”

“You won’t see the Grand Duke before leaving?”

“We received a report that the Demonkin’s movements are suspicious. We’ll return at once.”

Adrianna shook her head at Lunabirn’s question.

“Has Lady Adrianna’s power weakened? There’s no way he could endure that pain!”

Mardian suddenly shouted, eyes full of disbelief.

Adrianna shook her head, but it did nothing for Mardian, whose eyes had already gone wild. Mardian had already placed a hand over the back of Adrianna’s hand.

They all thought the same thing. How could anyone endure that pain? Especially a mage... It was believable that Adrianna’s power had weakened.

“I’ll show you that my love is greater than some bastard’s...”

“Aaah!”

Mardian let out a shrill scream and fainted. Her eyes rolled back, and drool ran from her mouth.

Lunabirn sighed and tended to Mardian.

‘Just how crazy is that bastard?’

Gilbert clicked his tongue.

“I’m not fully recovered yet, so I’ll leave a little later.”

At that moment, Hermun spoke with a murderous expression that made it clear he intended to do something. His face was full of rage.

Hermun was as tough as a Demonkin, yet he claimed he had not fully recovered... It was clearly an excuse. He did not even seem to care about hiding it.

Adrianna, as always, did not care.

Hermun was not important to her.

“Fine. Return once you’ve fully recovered. Your health comes first.”

‘This is going to get troublesome.’

Gilbert clicked his tongue as he watched Hermun adjust his grip on his axe.

Then he thought it might not be so bad to watch Galahad get hit once.

One hit should be fine.

Yeah, it would probably be fine.

* * *

‘...My mana is burning.’

Galahad looked at his tingling hand and sighed.

The sensation of mana burning was too terrible to describe. It felt as if every vein in his body was being carefully seared with a torch.

‘She burns mana just by touching someone. Does that even make sense?’

It was not a figure of speech. His mana had genuinely burned away.

Even Galahad, who had attended both the Academy and the Intelligence Bureau, had never heard of such a thing.

If he brought this up to a mage in the capital, he would surely get beaten with a staff.

In magical studies, mana was immutable. Magic only added properties to mana through formulas and spells. It did not transform mana itself.

Pure mana was sacred, noble, and unchanging.

Yet Adrianna literally burned pure mana.

This was a historical discovery. As a mage, Galahad could not help but hold Adrianna’s hand.

‘There’s something there.’

With trembling fingers, he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He snapped his fingers out of habit, but nothing happened.

‘I have no mana. If I’d held on a little longer, I might’ve died.’

Galahad smiled bitterly.

“Is someone there?”

“What do you need?”

The answer came from behind him. When he looked up, Gilbert was looking down at him as if he were pathetic.

When had he arrived? The alarm spell hadn’t activated... Ah, right. He had no mana.

“Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I did.”

It seemed Galahad had been so absorbed in magic that he had not heard.

It was Galahad’s chronic problem. Whenever magic was involved, he could hardly control himself. It was both his weakness and the driving force that had brought him this far.

“Do you have a light?”

“Doesn’t fire come out of your fingers?”

“My mana burned away.”

Gilbert clicked his tongue and pulled something out. It was a small flint.

“How primitive... Don’t you have a lighter or matches?”

“This is the North.”

How primitive. Galahad clicked his tongue at Gilbert’s answer. Gilbert struck the flint in front of him.

Click, click. It was a little dangerous, but the cigarette lit nicely. A refreshing lemon scent filled the room.

“You have a lot of cigarettes.”

“They’re Mana Cigarettes.”

Gilbert looked as though he did not understand, but Galahad did not bother explaining. It was difficult to explain to someone who was not a mage in the first place. There was no need to, either. Gilbert did not ask further.

“What did you think?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lady Adrianna.”

At Gilbert’s question, Galahad’s thoughts returned to Adrianna. The property of burning mana... Ah...

His thoughts began racing again.

“I asked what you thought.”

Gilbert’s displeased voice pulled him from his thoughts. The fire on his cigarette had gone out halfway through. Clicking his tongue, Galahad took out another cigarette and put it between his lips.

Gilbert held out the flint again. Galahad shook his head and snapped his fingers. A faint flame flickered to life at his fingertip.

“Didn’t you say you had no mana?”

“That’s why I smoked a Mana Cigarette.”

Gilbert frowned. Galahad took a deep drag.

“So, what did you think?”

He was pressing for an answer. Galahad clicked his tongue and answered.

“She was fucking beautiful.”

“I told you she’s the most beautiful woman on the continent.”

“Yeah. She was prettier than the Imperial Princess.”

“...You’ve met the Imperial Princess?”

“It just happened. If you ever meet the Imperial Princess, run. She’s insane.”

“There you go boasting again...”

Gilbert clicked his tongue softly. He clearly did not believe him. Galahad did not bother explaining.

“So that’s it?”

Gilbert asked again, as though there were some answer he wanted to hear.

Galahad thought for a moment. Adrianna certainly had the finest looks on the continent, but Galahad was not interested in her appearance.

It was her ability to burn mana.

“I want to touch her again. Longer this time...”

“...”

Gilbert’s face immediately twisted. Seeing the disgust on it, Galahad realized his words had sounded a little strange.

Still, Gilbert’s reaction was amusing, so he did not correct himself.

Galahad slowly exhaled cigarette smoke. His muddled thoughts gradually settled.

‘She burns mana...’

Galahad took out the Leather Notebook and checked its contents. Gilbert craned his neck to peek, but Galahad did not care.

“What language is that?”

“The language from my hometown.”

“Wasn’t your hometown the capital?”

“It was.”

“...?”

After giving a vague answer, Galahad looked through the notebook.

[The Demon King staggered violently as it burned.]

‘So this was Adrianna.’

Of the Demon King’s three crises, this one had received the greatest emphasis. Probably... He was not certain.

Thinking that the Demon King was weak to fire, Galahad had once devoted himself to fire magic. Even now, fire magic was his main specialty.

‘Coming to the North was a good choice.’

He had gained nothing despite being worked to the bone in the Intelligence Bureau, yet the moment he came north, he found such a major clue... He grinned as though a long-aching tooth had been pulled.

Adrianna was the key. He had to stay by her side somehow if he was going to study her...

‘What’s the problem? She’s my fiancée.’

Galahad clapped softly and smiled.

“I want to touch my fiancée. Will you show me the way?”

“...?”

“Ah, I meant to say I wanted to see her. That came out wrong.”

Galahad changed his words at the disgust on Gilbert’s face.

“...Lady Adrianna has returned to the front line.”

She had already gone back? Was she playing hard to get?

Galahad sprang to his feet.

“Good! Then let’s go to the front line. I was curious about it.”

“Do you think the front line is some hill behind the house? And aren’t you confined here by the Grand Duke’s order?”

“I was confined?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Then I should meet the Grand Duke first and get the confinement lifted. Take me to him.”

“...His Grace is busy. If you make an appointment now, you might see him in about a year.”

Gilbert stared at Galahad as if wondering whether he was an idiot.

It did not seem like a joke. A year was too long...

‘Should I turn this place upside down?’

He seriously considered it while looking at the wall beside him. He had already studied all the routes on the way here. There were around five ways he could turn the place upside down. Turning things upside down was Galahad’s specialty.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door. It was too polite to be Gwen. Gilbert opened it.

The person at the door was a middle-aged man with an impressive goatee.

“Imperial bastard! The Grand Duke calls for you!”

The goateed man spoke in rough, almost stilted Imperial.

Galahad looked at Gilbert and grinned.

“Ah, actually, I made an appointment a year ago.”

Gilbert’s face crumpled.

He really was fun to tease.

“Ah, but I’m not an Imperial bastard. I’m Galahad.”

“Imperial bastard! Follow me!”

This time, Gilbert snickered.

* * *

‘Why did the Grand Duke summon me?’

Galahad looked in the mirror and fixed his appearance. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes from his lack of sleep. When he put a cigarette between his lips to wake himself up, the goateed man hurriedly stopped him.

“A cigarette! Imperial bastard! Have you lost your mind?!”

His Imperial sounded like a direct translation.

“It’s not a cigarette, it’s a Mana Cigarette. It has a very pleasant lemon scent, so His Grace will like it too. No one dislikes lemon scents.”

“No! Not that! Hold it in!”

At the man’s firm refusal, Galahad smoked the entire remainder of his cigarette in one pull and put it out.

The Grand Duke’s summons was unexpected. He had kept Galahad confined all this time, then suddenly called for him... The most likely reason was Adrianna’s visit.

‘She said she had come secretly, but he knew everything.’

Despite that perfect, cold appearance, perhaps she was a little slow-witted.

“Imperial bastard! Your hair! Comb it back!”

“I’m not an Imperial bastard. I’m Galahad...”

At the goateed man’s shout, Galahad clicked his tongue and slicked his hair back with oil. His handsome face was fully revealed.

He winked at himself in the mirror. Gilbert, standing behind him, made a quiet retching sound. Pathetic jealousy.

He followed the goateed man to the Grand Duke.

The Grand Duke’s residence was so enormous that it seemed endless even while walking through it. It was easy to understand why people called him the King of the North.

The residence was filled with soldiers and knights. It was difficult to tell whether this was a residence or a military training ground.

Hostile gazes followed him everywhere. Some people even cursed at him.

“Gilbert, those bastards just insulted me. Go teach them a lesson.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Not me, them.”

“You loudmouthed bastard.”

“Hmm, never mind. They seem to be reflecting on themselves after hearing your merciless insults.”

“Greasy bastard.”

Their forces were greater than the Intelligence Bureau’s reports had indicated. This was not even the front line, but the Grand Duke’s residence. There had to be far more troops at the front.

The Intelligence Bureau had blind spots too. Galahad quietly marveled at that fact.

Soon, they reached a huge door. Two armed knights stood before it.

“Wait.”

A man with sharp, hawklike eyes stopped him. His beard was white, but his build and presence were fearsome. He was an old veteran.

The goateed man explained, but the white-haired knight did not listen. He gestured to Galahad.

“Any weapons?”

Galahad snorted at the question. Asking a mage whether he had a weapon... The northerners truly knew nothing about mages.

Still, it seemed awkward to let it pass, so he held out the cigarette butt from his pocket. The knight’s face twisted.

The knight held out a pair of thick shackles. Galahad recognized them. They were mana-suppressing shackles.

‘They have these?’

Mana-suppressing shackles interfered with the flow of mana. They were made by applying the properties of high-ranking Demonkin, and Galahad had only seen them during his days as a new recruit in the Intelligence Bureau.

Seeing them here brought back memories.

“Imperial bastard! Mage bastard! Put them on! The shackles!”

At the goateed man’s rough translation, Galahad put them on.

‘It’s been a while.’

His days as a new Intelligence Bureau recruit suddenly came to mind. They were not particularly fond memories. Tap, tap. His fingers drummed against the shackles.

“From here! Alone! Go! Imperial bastard!”

“I’m not an Imperial bastard, I’m Galahad. He’s already closed the door.”

Galahad clicked his tongue at the door that had been roughly shut.

The room was large and splendid. Its splendor did not come from luxurious goods like jewels.

Swords and spears stood everywhere, while the walls displayed the corpses of horrifying monsters. If there were a museum of stuffed Demonkin, this would be it.

‘So this is what Demonkin look like.’

There were few Demonkin in the Empire, so he had almost never had a chance to see one.

The Intelligence Bureau mostly dealt with humans in the first place.

Demonkin occasionally appeared, but another department handled them. Galahad’s department...

A presence interrupted his thoughts. At the far end of the room, a man sat in a massive chair as though reclining.

Judging by the atmosphere, he had to be the Grand Duke. Otherwise, it would be rather strange.

His coat seemed to be made from Demonkin leather. On each shoulder rested a large head that bared sharp molars. It looked quite warm.

Rather than a noble, he looked like a famous Demonkin hunter. Despite the thick coat, his muscular build was apparent.

Then there were those bold, tiger-like features and bright eyes...

The ruler of the North, the Grand Duke.

‘He doesn’t look busy.’

Galahad hid his inner thoughts and showed respect.

“I greet the Empire’s eternal shield.”

He heard the Grand Duke rise. His heavy footsteps, mixed with the sound of metal, sounded like those of an executioner.

Galahad barely resisted the urge to scratch his neck.

The Grand Duke had no reason to cut off Galahad’s head.

It was not because Galahad’s head was too heavy. It was because it was too light.

Compared to the political complications of his engagement to Adrianna, Galahad’s head was utterly insignificant.

If the Grand Duke were incompetent enough not to know that much, the northern front line would have collapsed long ago. It would have been swallowed by the Empire or invaded by the Demonkin...

After finishing his calculations, Galahad slowly raised his head.

Blue eyes stared down at him. Facing them made his own eyes feel as if they were burning.

‘She doesn’t resemble her father at all.’

If even a little of that fierce face had mixed into hers, she could not have had that appearance.

Galahad forced the corners of his lips upward.

At that moment, the Grand Duke’s shoulder moved. The instant Galahad saw it, every calculation vanished from his mind, and trained instinct moved him.

Galahad smoothly twisted his wrist. Their hands brushed past each other as they crossed.

The Grand Duke’s massive hand stopped beside Galahad’s head. A stinging chill tickled his temple.

“You’re like a wolf.”

The Grand Duke chuckled as he looked at Galahad’s hand aimed at his own neck. Galahad was holding a condensed ice blade.

“An occupational habit.”

Galahad answered as he suppressed his tension.

Clang.

The mana-suppressing shackles rolled across the floor.

“They said these would cripple any ordinary mage. What garbage.”

The Grand Duke clicked his tongue as he looked at the broken shackles.

“That’s because I’m not an ordinary mage.”

The Grand Duke’s laughter deepened at Galahad’s answer.

“Arrogant bastard.”

He had said it as humbly as possible...

Galahad swallowed the rest of his words.

Footnotes:

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