The Northern Grand Duke's Mad Son-in-Law - Chapter 74

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

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

Chapter 74: Gurgle

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The Demonkin City was filled with ash and a choking stench.

It resembled the Demon Realm they had entered before, but the concentration of Demonkin was much greater here.

Humans were mixed in among them from time to time as well...

Galahad glanced behind him.

The battle between the two houses was growing larger.

While all of House Vans had rushed out, not all of House Proxel had joined the fight, creating a strange balance.

House Vans had the numerical advantage, but House Proxel was pushing them back with its authority to concentrate strength.

More precisely, two sword-wielding Demonkin from House Proxel were driving back the rest of House Vans.

‘Strength is absolute among Demonkin.’

Galahad casually put a cigarette between his lips.

Unlike before, he could feel excitement coming from the Demonkin. They seemed stirred up by the blood spilling from the battle behind them.

The once-quiet city was slowly coming alive.

Hic...

Galahad turned toward the faint sound and saw the unit members standing stiffly.

They could not help being nervous. They had been thrown into a place crawling with Demonkin.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s going according to plan.”

Galahad smiled slightly.

Then he headed for the Proxel Estate.

Unlike before, the estate was quiet. Its gates stood open.

‘They really are like nobles.’

Galahad chuckled and moved forward.

“Are we really just going in like this?”

Gilbert’s urgent voice stopped him.

“Nineteen are gone. Twelve remain, but they’re probably the core forces. They’ll have hidden forces too, such as the Gourmets.”

“Isn’t that just an assumption?”

“That’s right, it is. Still, they can’t be that relaxed while facing House Vans. They must have deployed as many forces as possible. This is the most likely possibility.”

Galahad rolled his shoulder. It had been pierced through before, but he felt no pain. Rather than his body being sturdy, it seemed to be the Egg of Pain’s influence.

Gilbert muttered something while looking at his fingers, then nodded.

“So you’re saying we can do it?”

“That’s right. It’s a little dangerous, but isn’t everything in life?”

Galahad looked behind Gilbert. The dumb-looking helmet rattled quietly.

“Their authority concentrates strength in one person. It’ll be easier if we deal with the others first. Any questions?”

The unit members stayed silent. Galahad nodded in satisfaction.

“Ah, Youngest, don’t move until I give the signal. All right, let’s go in.”

Without hesitation, Galahad entered through the open gates.

The garden was desolate. Still, perhaps they had made some effort, because rotten plants lay scattered everywhere. Galahad quietly looked up at the estate.

It had three floors. There were no guards in sight, nor anyone waiting to greet them.

Galahad circulated mana and headed inside. Even when he entered the first floor, no one confronted him.

He lightly spread his mana. The so-called Demonkin detection spell, which had become familiar by now, swept over the first floor.

There were no Demonkin on the first floor. The second floor was the same.

He first encountered a Demonkin before the stairs to the third floor.

The Demonkin was dressed smartly. His elegant mustache and monocle made for a fine imitation of a noble. Even his outfit was not bad.

“I never sent an invitation. How rude.”

“Call it bold.”

Galahad answered lightly.

‘At least mid-ranking.’

He had met enough Demonkin to roughly judge their strength now. This one was at least mid-ranking.

“I didn’t expect you to follow this far. Galahad, was it?”

The Demonkin knew Galahad’s identity.

‘A trap?’

Galahad narrowed his eyes. They were thorough. They might have prepared a trap with Galahad and Gilbert in mind.

It was not a problem.

‘Because Adrianna is here.’

The problem would come when Adrianna revealed her identity. Demonkin, who were sensitive to mana, might notice.

Most importantly, he could not provoke the one called the Ruler of this city.

If that thing noticed Adrianna’s presence...

‘There will be variables.’

Adrianna needed to stay hidden as much as possible.

“That’s right. I’m the famous Commander Galahad of the Special Operations Unit.”

“I am Helsington of House Proxel. You’ve come to see Damian.”

“That’s right. Is he well?”

“Very well. Hmm...”

Helsington let out a low hum. There was ease in his manner, as though he were considering something.

“Would you like to see Damian?”

Galahad quietly studied him. Slicked-back hair, a slightly oversized fedora, a monocle, and a sword at his waist... He judged the distance based on Helsington’s arms and height.

‘First, confirm Damian.’

Galahad nodded.

“Sounds good.”

Helsington turned around. The back of his head gleamed as Galahad snapped his fingers.

They arrived before a massive door.

“This way...”

Helsington gently pushed the door open.

Inside was a long dining table like one in a banquet hall. It was covered in scraps of meat and bread. Anyone could tell Damian had eaten there.

‘He certainly ate a lot.’

Galahad snapped his fingers again.

At the far end stood a massive bed. Damian lay on the soft mattress, his stomach swollen from all he had eaten.

Galahad clicked his tongue and spoke.

“Damian.”

Damian, who normally would not wake for half a day once asleep, suddenly opened his eyes wide. He shot upright.

“Brother?”

Damian blinked at Galahad, as though questioning whether this situation was real.

“That’s right, it’s me. If you want to go on vacation, you apply first. You can’t just leave whenever you want.”

Clicking his tongue, Galahad approached Damian. Damian had filled out from his formerly skeletal frame. Oil glistened on his face. He seemed to be doing fairly well.

“I just opened my eyes, and I was here.”

At that moment, the door opened.

The person who entered was an old man dressed neatly from head to toe. He wore a gentle smile, yet there was not the slightest warmth in it.

The old man looked at Galahad. Their gazes had only met, yet Galahad’s hairs stood on end. The smell of wet wood filled the room.

‘This is troublesome.’

He was a stronger opponent than expected. Damian trembled slightly. Only then did Galahad understand why Damian had been cowering.

‘Upper-ranking or higher.’

Galahad glanced at Adrianna.

He recalled how Adrianna had effortlessly erased an upper-ranking Demonkin in the Demon Realm. But that Demonkin had been a mental-type.

This old man was clearly stronger in combat.

And considering House Proxel’s authority to concentrate strength...

‘Hm, not good.’

Galahad clicked his tongue quietly.

Helsington bowed his head toward the old man.

The old man’s gaze ran over Galahad. A strange desire appeared in his eyes before his gaze settled on Gwen.

“Oh, she looks delicious.”

The old man spoke crudely.

Funnily enough, Galahad was having a similar thought as he looked at the old man.

The old man held out his hand. Damian trembled briefly, then was held in the old man’s arms. From the outside, they looked like a doting grandfather and grandson. Damian’s eyes had gone unfocused.

“Damian, it’s time to go back.”

“I can’t.”

Galahad frowned at Damian’s firm answer.

It was an unusually clear answer for Damian. Damian usually said he was hungry or sleepy. He did not answer so intelligently.

Then Galahad needed to recalculate. He snapped his fingers.

“Does that answer your question?”

The corners of the old man’s mouth curled up faintly.

‘He wants to let us leave.’

More precisely, he seemed to want to avoid conflict. The old man was wary of Galahad and the Special Operations Unit.

Their previous failure against the unit must have hit them hard.

‘Did he show us Damian to urge us to give up?’

Damian really did look well, and they had even shown him saying he did not want to.

They had also subtly displayed the old man’s strength.

He was clearly trying to make them give up.

He did not seem to want to cause needless trouble.

The war with House Vans might have played a part, but...

‘There’s something else. Something quite significant, if a major Demonkin is acting like this...’

Galahad quickly reviewed the situation.

‘For now, I’ve confirmed Damian is unharmed.’

He was more than unharmed. Damian had been living fairly well.

‘There’s no need to take the difficult path.’

Galahad flicked ash from his cigarette and nodded.

“I see.”

He picked up his canteen and rose from his seat.

“We don’t need an escort.”

Having finished his calculations, Galahad turned around without hesitation.

* * *

Gwen hurried after Galahad.

He strode forward without a word. His legs were so long that Gwen had to practically run to keep up.

‘Damian...’

Damian had looked quite comfortable lying with his head against a Demonkin’s leg.

Gwen knew Demonkin were cursed beings, but seeing Damian like that left her conflicted.

Damian truly was eating well and living well. His face shone with oil, his stomach had rounded out, and they even called him the Young House Head.

Looking at Damian, Gwen did not know what to do. Was that place his home?

“Are we really just leaving like this?”

Gilbert shouted in frustration.

“Just leaving? That sounds like you, Sir Gilbert.”

Gwen spoke without realizing it.

“But he looks like he’s doing well!”

Galahad looked at Gwen. His eyes remained indifferent.

“In the embrace of Demonkin? Don’t be ridiculous. Would you leave a plump baby pig alone after seeing it rolling around among wolves?”

Galahad’s eyes moved quickly. He looked up and down as though searching for something.

Gwen could not back down. She knew better than anyone how precious parents were to a child...

“But Damian said he didn’t want to.”

“First, Damian didn’t say he didn’t want to. He said he couldn’t. There’s a very clear difference between the two.”

As always, Galahad’s voice was filled with firm certainty. Gwen felt a little relieved.

“Besides, once you join the Special Operations Unit, you can’t leave without my permission. Once in the Special Operations Unit, always in the Special Operations Unit. Ah, that applies to all of you too.”

Rattle.

Gwen turned toward the sound beside her. Noad, the youngest, was shaking her helmet. When Gwen looked at her, the helmet abruptly stopped. The youngest was rather absent-minded.

“Hmm, my calculations were wrong. That old man they call the House Head... He’s quite a formidable opponent. Strong enough to make Damian that intelligent. We need to change methods. First, we prune the branches.”

“Prune the branches?”

“Like this.”

Galahad pointed somewhere with one finger.

A long line appeared across the wall. In the gap where it had split open stood a Demonkin with wide eyes.

“For now, there’s one. Sir Gilbert.”

“You insolent...!”

Before the Demonkin could finish speaking, Gilbert’s sword sliced through its neck. Blood sprayed in a long stream. There was not the slightest hesitation in Gilbert’s sword.

“Well done, Sir Gilbert. Honestly, I said we didn’t need an escort.”

“Foolish humans always cause trouble.”

A voice came from the opposite side. It was Helsington. He drew his sword and pointed it at Galahad.

Even Gwen, who knew nothing about swords, could tell it was an ornate and impressive blade.

Well-dressed figures emerged behind Helsington. There were enough to fill the hallway. Feeling a sting against her skin, Gwen swallowed hard.

“Will you quietly become sacrifices?”

Helsington politely asked Galahad.

“Sacrifices?!”

Gwen hurried behind Galahad at Helsington’s gaze.

“Would you explain?”

The flame on Galahad’s cigarette faintly lit his face. His face was expressionless. His fingers snapped sharply as Galahad murmured something under his breath.

“Hmm, it’s obvious a foolish human wouldn’t understand even if they heard it, but it’s a good day, so I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you. As expected of Proxel.”

Helsington raised a hand. The sword-wielding figures stopped. It was a tense standoff.

“He was created by Proxel...”

At that moment, Galahad snapped his fingers.

It was only a small sound.

A tiny flame flew toward Helsington.

Helsington urgently swung his sword.

His blade stabbed through the flame.

Kwoooooong!

The fire exploded violently. The enlarged blaze surged forward and swallowed Helsington and everyone behind him at once.

Scorching heat swept through the hallway.

“Arghhhhh!”

Horrible screams erupted a moment later.

The stench of burning meat stabbed at Gwen’s nose.

...!

When the flames vanished, there was no Demonkin left.

Only black ash remained.

A heavy silence settled.

“You talk too much.”

Galahad muttered as he flicked ash from his cigarette.

‘Didn’t he ask?’

Shocked gazes turned toward Galahad.

Galahad frowned at them.

“Aren’t you working?”

At that rebuke...

“Knight Gilbert!”

Gilbert’s sword blazed blue.

* * *

“It’s noisy below.”

The old man lightly scanned the area beneath him and clicked his tongue.

Young people these days had no manners.

‘I thought that one was different.’

Was he still just a human? The old man furrowed his brows.

‘His scent was strong.’

The old man muttered as he recalled Galahad. His scent had been so thick that even the old man had been confused.

The ones sent last time had clearly been no match for him.

Still, that was all.

‘We are Proxel.’

Proxel never lost within its domain.

It was a domain temporarily created after their house had split off as a branch, but it was still Proxel.

They could not lose.

Originally, the old man had planned to deal with Galahad the moment they met, in front of Damian. It was to sever Damian’s last remaining attachment to humanity.

But Galahad was quite troublesome. There was also that fool in the helmet behind him... The old man could not grasp what that one was.

That was why he had let them leave.

The situation was already loud enough because of the foolish House Vans. If they made things worse here, they might draw the Ruler’s attention.

If that happened, everything could be ruined.

That was why he had let them leave, yet...

‘That foolish human is causing trouble without knowing his place.’

The old man frowned.

Then...

He felt a strange absence.

The old man urgently used his authority.

This was...

‘Helsington has disappeared?’

The old man’s expression twisted.

It was faster than he had expected...

The old man turned his head.

“How much longer until the preparations are complete?”

“They are finished.”

At the report from beside him, the old man rose from his seat.

Damian, a child who carried an equal mix of revolting and sweet scents, looked up at him.

There was an unpleasant feeling in Damian’s gaze.

“Get up.”

Damian rose blankly. Half his blood was filthy human blood, which made things troublesome, but Proxel blood still ran through Damian.

He could not defy the old man’s words.

Kwoong!

Another loud blast rang out. The old man’s face twisted.

Anxiety rose within him.

To think he was feeling anxious...

His frown deepened.

“First, we will complete the inheritance.”

The old man grabbed Damian by the nape.

“Once the inheritance is complete, that insolent human, the one who struts around calling himself the Ruler, and even the main house that dared cast me out will all bow before Proxel.”

At the old man’s muttering, the Demonkin who had given the report lowered their head deeply.

Gurgle...

A loud sound came from Damian’s stomach.

‘After feeding him that much, again?’

The old man frowned deeply.

To achieve a perfect inheritance, he needed to erase all lingering attachments.

But...

Kwoooooong!

The sense of absence struck again.

Another one had vanished in that time.

‘Again?!’

It would not be perfect, but...