WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Ceaseless
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈
Chapter 70: Demonkin City
──────
Hellove was now nothing more than a ghost story.
It was the sort of scary tale told to new recruits on dark nights, meant to make them realize just how horrifying the Demonkin were.
The story was simple.
A massive city had been destroyed by the Demonkin in a single night. The Demonkin had later been driven out, but there were no survivors...
The great city had been reduced to ruins in the process, and no one visited it anymore.
They said that if anyone passed nearby, they could hear screams and laughter.
Then landslides buried it, and the city vanished completely.
The problem was...
“Hey, rookie. I told you to sing something.”
A ghost story more horrifying than Hellove itself was unfolding right beside them.
Adrianna’s helmet turned toward Tom. Somehow, it seemed desperate.
Tom’s hair stood on end.
“Didn’t you say the rookie couldn’t speak?”
“Ah, right. I thought she was merely quiet.”
Tom was dumbfounded by Gilbert’s nod.
Gilbert never bothered Damian or Gwen, but perhaps because Adrianna was his junior knight, he kept picking on her.
“I’ll sing instead!”
Tom hurriedly pulled out his instrument.
‘Good thing I learned how to play.’
Muttering under his breath, Tom began strumming. He had practiced quite a bit, so the instrument sounded fairly good.
Good enough to draw Gilbert’s attention away from the rookie...
Tom began singing desperately.
When things grew a little quieter, it seemed Gilbert was satisfied.
That was when Tom, singing even more passionately, had no choice but to admit that he had underestimated Gilbert.
“Your immediate superior, Tom, is singing. The rookie should at least dance. What a lack of awareness.”
Tom let out a long scream at Gilbert’s tongue click.
“What a killer high note.”
Gilbert applauded in admiration.
His attention returned to Tom.
To hold it there, Tom played, sang, and shook his hips.
It was the best performance Gilbert had ever seen.
This place was practically an abandoned zone, so it was easy to lose one’s way. Gilbert, however, did not get confused.
That was thanks to the golden line extending from the knife.
The thick line stretched out as though marking a path.
They could not get lost even if they wanted to.
“The hero of the North cannot be concealed, even by a thick helmet and thick armor!”
With Tom singing and playing beside him, even holding the reins was enjoyable.
Gilbert grinned as he guided the carriage.
Then the golden line suddenly trembled.
Its length shrank in an instant.
The surroundings became dark again.
He had not realized how inconvenient it was without the golden line until it had appeared and then vanished.
At that moment, Gwen screamed from inside the carriage.
“Ah... No! I can’t do this anymore!”
“Then it can’t be helped. Say hello to Damian! Bye-bye, Damian!”
“No! Bye-bye... No, I can’t!”
“Don’t worry! I’ll see to the workers’ compensation! You’ll get a generous severance package too!”
“Severance pay...? Ah... No!”
The golden line became clear again.
It was even longer than before.
‘What in the world are they doing in there?’
Gilbert simply kept hold of the reins.
* * *
“You worked hard.”
Galahad patted the sprawled-out Gwen and stepped down from the carriage.
A cool chill calmed the heat that had built up in his body.
Fresh, damp air tickled his nose.
‘A city erased by the Demonkin...’
Recalling Tom’s explanation, Galahad looked around.
Just as Tom had said, remnants of the city lay everywhere. Broken pillars and ruined walls were scattered across the area. Judging by the foundations alone, they had been thicker than those in the capital, but time had worn them down.
A few pillars remained standing as if stubbornly holding on, faintly proving the city’s former grandeur.
Only collapsed ruins and foundations remained, but they stretched far and wide, making for a truly magnificent sight.
Snow had piled high over it all, giving the place an impressive appearance.
‘A fine grave.’
Galahad put a cigarette between his lips.
‘It’s been cut off.’
He touched the knife. Even when he poured mana into it, there was no reaction.
Something must have happened to the target’s tracking medium.
“Where do we go now?”
Gilbert asked in a high voice. Galahad lit his cigarette, and smoke mixed with his breath in a long trail.
“We start searching now.”
“What?”
Galahad waved a hand as he examined the surroundings.
Tracking Magic had suddenly been cut off. There had to be something here.
He scattered mana with a wave of his hand. It spread a considerable distance, but there was no notable reaction.
‘To sever my Tracking Magic...’
Tracking Magic that linked one medium to another was highly sensitive.
Even a slight abnormality in one of the media could easily distort it.
Experienced agents layered several spells in preparation for such cases.
Galahad’s Tracking Magic used a triple layer.
‘There was no reaction at all.’
Yet Galahad’s Tracking Magic had disappeared as if it had been erased.
There were two possibilities. Either the other side was more skilled in magic than Galahad, or it was a Demonkin’s authority.
‘The latter, most likely.’
“Sir Gilbert, could you climb up there?”
Galahad pointed to a pillar standing tall amid the collapsed ruins.
“What? Ah, yes.”
Without asking why, Gilbert climbed the pillar. Even in armor, he was remarkably nimble. From a distance, he looked like a beetle.
Standing at the top, Gilbert looked around.
“There’s nothing here! Ruins! Nothing but ruins!”
Even if it was an abandoned city, it fell within the patrol range. If anything had been visible, the patrol would have spotted it.
Galahad had only sent Gilbert up to confirm that.
‘Did they cut it off here and move? No, then there should be traces of the medium.’
Galahad quickly reviewed the situation.
Since there was no trace of the medium at all, Damian must still have it.
Yet he could not track it...
“That’s strange.”
“What is?”
Gilbert, who had returned unnoticed, asked. Sweat covered his forehead.
“There are no traces at all. Did they go into the sky?”
“No, there’s nothing in the sky. I checked.”
Galahad frowned at Gilbert’s confident answer.
Just as he was about to say something...
“I checked myself. There’s definitely nothing in the sky. If anything, they must have sunk into the ground...”
‘Sunk into the ground...?’
Galahad murmured softly.
Surprisingly, it made sense.
If they had gone underground, it explained why there were no traces.
“I see. They went underground.”
“What? I was joking.”
“I’m serious.”
Gilbert made a strange expression.
“Are we digging?”
“No, we need to find the hidden passage.”
“If it’s hidden, how do we find it?”
“Oh, Sir Gilbert. I failed to consider something even you would think of.”
“...Are you making fun of me?”
“That’s correct.”
Galahad waved a hand, cutting Gilbert off.
“If the Demonkin are underground and did something capable of erasing my Tracking Magic, the mana concentration there will be high. Demonkin like places with high mana concentration.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, more or less...”
“Sir Gilbert, you wrinkle your nose when you lie.”
Clicking his tongue, Galahad snapped his fingers. A Mana Arrow appeared, and he quietly memorized its size.
If the Demonkin had a passage they used and something there powerful enough to erase Tracking Magic, the mana concentration was bound to be high.
“How long would it take to find it like this?”
Gilbert grumbled quietly. It was amusing, but he was right.
The ruins covered too much ground to search by comparing mana concentrations with Mana Arrow. On the other hand, they did not have much time...
Then Galahad spotted the stupid helmet. Adrianna.
Adrianna was feeding the horses. Though she wore gauntlets, her hands were gentle as she touched them.
‘Ah, Adrianna is here.’
Galahad remembered teaching Adrianna magic detection before.
“Sir Gilbert, have I ever told you something?”
“What did you tell me?”
“That the rookie has a nose like a bloodhound.”
“What?”
“An excellent nose.”
* * *
Clatter. Clatter. Clatter...
Adrianna, wearing her stupid helmet, ran around diligently.
She ran faster than most horses.
To run that fast while checking mana concentrations...
Galahad gave a quiet exclamation of admiration.
Clatter.
Before long, Adrianna stopped in front of the most intact pillar among the many thick pillars scattered around.
Both sides had collapsed around the pillar. It looked like a doorway, but there was nothing behind it.
It was the sort of sight one might simply pass by, thinking it had fallen in an unusual way, but the Mana Arrow on Galahad’s finger was ever so slightly smaller than before.
‘She really found it.’
“Good job, rookie.”
Clatter.
Gilbert patted Adrianna’s shoulder guard. The stupid helmet hurriedly turned toward Tom. Tom casually turned Gilbert away.
Galahad examined the inside of the pillar. Something like a painting had been drawn there.
At first glance, it looked like graffiti, yet it had the shape of a magic circle.
‘This is... incredible.’
It retained the principles of a magic circle while being fashioned to look like a picture. This was not simply a magic circle, but a work of art.
‘It resembles the Monster Tamer’s magic circle. Is it a remnant of the Jema War?’
It had a similar shape to the Monster Tamer’s magic circle, but its foundation was entirely different.
It was a new magic circle he had never seen before. His curiosity surged.
This seemed to be what had severed the Tracking Magic.
It was an ancient magic circle, and the fact that it had been made to look like a picture made it even more difficult to understand.
Even Galahad found it hard to decipher. Drawing on his experience analyzing the Monster Tamer’s magic circle, he examined it.
‘A magic circle that opens with Demonkin blood.’
This magic circle required blood with a higher concentration than the Monster Tamer’s magic circle.
In other words, it required Demonkin blood.
‘The Northerners would never get inside.’
The North did not even know what a magic circle was.
Had it not been for Galahad, they would never have found it.
He opened one of the canteens he had received from Adrianna. A sickening smell of blood drifted out with a cheerful pop.
Thump! Thump!
‘Didn’t you eat earlier?’
Thump! Thump!
‘Keep that up, and Adrianna will say, “You little...”’
After quieting the Egg of Pain, Galahad poured the canteen’s blood over the magic circle.
Demonkin blood painted the magic circle red. Then it began to tremble slightly.
Galahad stepped back. Adrianna guarded the space before him.
“Reassuring.”
Clatter...
The space between the pillars shifted. Grrrrumble! Stone scraped against stone, revealing a dark opening.
It was...
“Found it.”
A staircase wide enough for four men to walk side by side.
Darkness filled the stairs, making them look like an entrance to hell.
Galahad flicked away his cigarette.
It rolled with small taps, lighting up the darkness.
After rolling for a long time, the cigarette went out.
“Looks like it really is a Demonkin city.”
Galahad muttered the joke, but no one laughed.
Clicking his tongue, Galahad pulled out another cigarette and put it in his mouth.
He glanced behind him.
The unit members had gone stiff.
“From here on, only I speak. You’re all mutes now. Sir Gilbert, didn’t I say mute? Keep your mouth shut.”
As the unit grew quiet, Galahad smiled and stepped onto the stairs.
After walking for some time, he sensed a presence ahead. Gathering mana, Galahad snapped his fingers without hesitation.
A soft crack sounded, followed by a low groan.
Galahad spread mana around him. Once he grasped its form, he advanced.
A Demonkin lay on the ground with an Ice Spike lodged in its neck. Despite its pierced throat, its expression remained blank.
‘A lowest-ranking Demonkin.’
Galahad pinned its arm beneath his foot and grabbed the back of its neck. Blood gushed out, filling the air with a foul smell.
The Demonkin looked up at Galahad. There was not a trace of fear in its eyes.
“Demonkin...?”
Air leaked from its throat.
“Wrong answer.”
Galahad placed a hand against its temple and cast mental magic. The Demonkin’s eyes grew hazy.
“Is this a Demonkin city?”
“Th...”
The Demonkin’s eyes twisted. Another mental barrier.
‘They are well prepared against mental magic.’
Still, Galahad had dealt with this once before.
Without hesitation, he drove a finger into its temple. A disgusting resistance met him as one knuckle sank in.
“Gah...”
The Demonkin let out a low groan. Pain appeared on its face.
“Is this a Demonkin city?”
Nod.
“Are there humans inside?”
Nod.
“I see. Have you seen a group that took a skinny boy away?”
Nod.
Galahad quickly organized the situation.
Once he had finished calculating, he pulled the Demonkin closer by the nape.
With the Demonkin’s eyes directly before him, he asked,
“Do I look like a Demonkin?”
...
Nod.
After sniffing at him, the creature nodded.
Then its head began to swell. Galahad clicked his tongue and stepped back.
A stupid-looking helmet appeared before him.
Adrianna.
Pop! Flesh burst apart with a crisp sound. Adrianna, standing between them, took the splatter head-on, but did not move an inch.
“This situation is interesting.”
Galahad wiped blood from his forehead.
‘It thinks I’m a Demonkin.’
The Egg of Pain was likely the reason. Judging by the way it had sniffed him, it could also have been because he had drunk blood...
Either way, it was something he could use.
And the fact that humans were inside meant...
‘Demonkin can bring humans in.’
The stupid helmet stared at Galahad.
Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, Galahad nodded.
His calculations were complete.
“It seems we’ve really come to a Demonkin city.”
A fragrant lemon scent drifted through the air.
The stupid helmet clattered. Adrianna’s character was easy to read, so Galahad could guess what she was saying.
“You think we should go back and request reinforcements?”
Clatter...
Galahad glanced behind him. Gilbert held his sword firmly, Gwen stood tense and on the verge of tears, and Tom held his shield...
They wore different expressions, but none showed any sign of retreating.
Adrianna’s opinion that they should request reinforcements was reasonable.
But...
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to wait for reinforcements. And I can’t fully trust the Grand Duke.”
Clatter?
Alarm could be felt from beyond the stupid helmet.
“Ah, to be precise, I can’t trust the Grand Duke’s eyes and ears. No matter how cautious the Demonkin may be, a Demonkin city is another matter.”
...
The stupid helmet froze.
It was a somewhat dangerous thing to say, but Galahad trusted Adrianna’s character. No, he understood it completely.
Then Gilbert raised a hand. Galahad clicked his tongue at Gilbert’s silently moving lips and nodded.
“You may speak now.”
“If there are guards from this point onward, the lower levels will be even more heavily guarded.”
It was unlike Gilbert to ask such a question.
From the magic circle to the Demonkin posted at the entrance, they had been extremely wary of intruders.
The method to get through them was...
“There’s a way.”
“...What?”
“Now, everyone, focus.”
Galahad shook ash from his cigarette. Everyone’s eyes turned toward him at once.
“We’re right before a Demonkin city. There’s a high chance it will be dangerous. Anyone who wants to return may do so. Yes, Gwen. Speak.”
“Is Damian inside?”
“There’s a high chance he is.”
“Bad Demonkin! Let’s go right now!”
Galahad smiled faintly at Gwen’s spirited shout.
“Now, hold out your wrists.”
He tipped the canteen over the unit members’ wrists.
“Rub your wrists together, then rub them beneath your ears.”
So that the smell of blood would spread thickly...
* * *
Gulp...
Tom swallowed dryly as he looked around.
A huge Monster passed by some distance away, growling.
The problem was that they had to act calmly even with Monsters nearby.
And it was not only the Monsters.
‘They’re all Demonkin...?’
Beautiful and handsome people were everywhere. They all had striking appearances and neat clothing, but blank expressions, as if they had no emotions...
Keeping his eyes lowered was all Tom could do.
Gilbert had drawn his sword halfway. Even Adrianna gripped her sword hilt.
Everyone was tense, but Galahad, who led the way, remained relaxed.
He even exchanged greetings with Demonkin from time to time.
The Monsters avoided Galahad.
Eventually, they reached a massive gate. It had been carved from thick stone, and its surface was covered in bizarre patterns.
“I want to steal it.”
Tom swallowed dryly at Galahad’s serious murmur.
A huge, two-headed Monster stood before the gate. A Demonkin tossed something to it as if feeding it.
It was a piece of flesh, blood dripping from it...
Tom desperately held back his rising nausea as the Monster tore into it with obvious enjoyment.
The Demonkin feeding the Monster turned its head toward them.
It was a neatly dressed Demonkin, like an aristocrat. Yet skulls dangled from its waist, as if it were an aristocrat displaying jewelry...
Galahad approached the Demonkin without the slightest concern.
Everyone around them turned to stare.
‘It’s over. We’re really done for.’
Tom screamed inwardly.
Galahad and the Demonkin stood facing each other.
The Monster beside the Demonkin sniffed at Galahad. Then it quietly stepped back.
Galahad greeted the Demonkin with ease.
“You’ve been working hard.”
As if he were greeting a guard at the city gate...
‘...That’s the plan?’
Tom screamed inwardly as he gripped his shield tightly.
Gilbert inched his half-drawn sword farther out.
The rising tension made Tom feel like his heart would burst.
Then...
“Welcome.”
The Demonkin bowed and opened the gate.
“Thank you.”
Galahad passed through the gate as though nothing had happened.
‘...?’
Footnotes:
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