WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Ceaseless
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈
Chapter 92: Mana Pool
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‘What is this...?’
Gilbert gaped at the sight before him.
He knew Galahad was an exceptional mage.
Still, there had to be limits.
“Your skills are all so modest and mediocre. They’re not enough to even whet my appetite.”
Galahad openly clicked his tongue. There was a faint irritation in his voice.
The mages flinched.
Galahad frowned and gestured at them.
“All of you, come out.”
Even for Galahad, telling all of them to come at once was too much. The mages’ faces twisted.
“Do you still not know your place?”
Provoked by Galahad, the mages stepped forward in fury.
Galahad facing dozens of mages alone looked rather impressive.
The mages began casting all at once. Countless spells filled the sky. It was quite a threatening sight.
Galahad, their target, only frowned. It was the same expression he made whenever Gilbert offered him undercooked meat.
As he destroyed the incoming spells one by one, Galahad evaluated them with scathing remarks.
“If you’re going to use Frostbite Touch, you might as well pack some snow and throw it. It would probably be faster and more accurate. You wouldn’t waste mana either.”
“Hmm, how can Burning Hand be this warm? You’d make a great success of yourself in massage.”
“Bouncing Lightning? Oh, you should go into massage with that fellow too. The nobles would love you.”
Galahad destroyed each spell while offering his assessment. Even Gilbert found the criticism brutally direct, so there was no need to mention the mages’ reactions.
Furious, the mages attacked with even greater force, but Galahad did not take a single step from where he stood.
‘Overwhelming.’
Galahad was on a completely different level from the other mages.
“The one acknowledged by the Grand Duke is truly amazing!”
“He isn’t just a mage! He’s a mage acknowledged by the Grand Duke!”
Rough cries of admiration rang out from all around. Gilbert felt strangely proud.
Galahad had defeated around thirty mages in front of northern men who loved to exaggerate. Gilbert could not even imagine the rumors that would spread.
Before long, nearly thirty mages had fallen to their knees. Deep despair filled their faces.
Galahad, on the other hand, looked oddly refreshed. He seemed only a little tired.
“Hmm, truly pathetic.”
An irritated assessment slipped from Galahad’s mouth.
“What do you think magic is?”
He asked as he put a cigarette in his mouth. None of the mages answered. They only opened and closed their mouths.
“It is the power to create miracles. Miracles such as lighting a fire in empty air or calling lightning down from the sky.”
His voice was utterly calm. The mages nodded.
“So why is your magic so pathetic? Mine is this amazing, after all.”
It was an arrogant thing to say, but no one denied it. They had already witnessed the overwhelming gap between them.
“Your magic has no purpose. All you do is puff it up, large and flashy, like beasts in heat.”
Galahad snapped his fingers. Sparks continuously leaped between them. Moving freely as if they were alive, the sparks grew larger.
Soon, they became a gigantic flower made of lightning. It was so intricate that even Gilbert, who knew nothing about magic, could not help but marvel.
The lightning flower swelled further and soon filled the space before them. All the magic the mages had unleashed until now combined could not compare to its splendor.
The mages gasped in admiration.
“If this had been a contest to see who could make the largest and flashiest magic, your methods would have been correct. Though you still wouldn’t have placed.”
The words were harsh, but the mages clamped their mouths shut.
“As magic grows larger, its concentration inevitably drops. If I were your target, a Burning Arrow would be more threatening than Flickering Flame. Especially if you aimed for the neck or heart.”
Galahad snapped his fingers. An Ice Arrow flew out and scattered the enormous lightning flower. It was quite a spectacle.
What Galahad said sounded like something from a knight’s lesson. Minimize your movements and aim for vital points. It was obvious.
At that moment, one mage staggered to their feet. It was the one who had attacked first.
“You are correct. But spells with a small area of effect are inherently difficult to land. They are also easier for the opponent to avoid.”
The mage spoke through gritted teeth. The other mages nodded.
“That’s right, it’s difficult. So?”
Galahad’s question froze the mage’s expression.
“If it’s difficult to hit, keep firing until it hits. If the opponent can easily avoid it, cast it faster. Isn’t that simple?”
Gilbert nodded at Galahad’s answer. Was that not obvious? If something was hard, one had to keep doing it until it worked. It was basic.
The mages reacted intensely. Groans came from all around. The mage’s face twisted, and they shouted in frustration.
“That’s only possible because you’re a genius!”
Silence fell.
The mages nodded.
“That’s right. I am a genius.”
Galahad admitted it readily. His casual acceptance left even the questioning mage embarrassed.
Even a genius should not be so shameless as to say it himself. Gilbert clicked his tongue softly.
“Even I, a genius, suffered mana exhaustion every day from the moment I began learning magic until I graduated from the Academy.”
A huge commotion broke out among the mages. Mana exhaustion seemed to be an extremely shocking phrase.
“A lie... That has to be a lie! How could anyone endure something so horrible...?”
“Don’t all of you experience mana exhaustion at least once while casting magic?”
At Galahad’s question, the mages opened and closed their mouths. Shock filled their faces. Unlike before, it was the shock of people looking at a madman.
“Even I, a genius, work this hard. What gives you dullards the confidence to act so stubborn?”
The blunt criticism silenced the mages. Defeat returned to their faces.
“Still, don’t worry. The one teaching you is excellent. Once a month, I’ll hold classes suited to your grade. The higher your grade, the more substantial the class.”
Galahad said it with a bright smile. The mages nodded fiercely. Excitement filled the air.
“Really? You, Galahad, who even turned down lecture requests from the Academy?!”
Someone shouted. Their clear voice carried sharply.
“I don’t lie.”
“Damn it! A lecture from Galahad, whose lectures even the Academy had people lining up for!”
The outburst changed the mages’ mood. Their eyes filled with longing.
“Those assigned to Grade 2 will bring fifty Magic Stones and one new mage. Grade 3 will bring one hundred Magic Stones and three new mages.”
“Only a hundred? You’d accept mere Magic Stones for such valuable teachings?! Damn it! I’m joining immediately!”
That was some impressive hype work. He had even planted someone to stir them up. Gilbert clicked his tongue at Galahad’s thoroughness.
“Now, I’ll say this one last time.”
Galahad straightened his clothes and stood tall.
“I was the youngest person ever admitted to and graduated from the Academy. I am the Northern Grand Duke’s son-in-law, and one acknowledged by the Grand Duke. I am also the Magic Tower Master of the North’s only Magic Tower. I do not need to explain that value.”
Galahad swept his bangs back. Strong confidence showed through his easy smile.
“Mine hard, everyone.”
Galahad’s voice was dry. The mages trembled slightly.
He casually turned around.
Gilbert unconsciously flared his nostrils.
“Sir Gilbert, why are you making that face?”
“...What kind of face am I making?”
“A particularly hideous one.”
Gilbert coughed roughly and tightened his expression.
[I am Knight Gilbert. Deputy Commander of the Special Operations Unit. And -.]
He could never admit that he had imagined himself saying that after making dozens of knights kneel.
* * *
“Gwen, did you see that? Oh, you’re functioning normally.”
Galahad checked on Gwen. Magic was blooming behind her in abundance. Her unfocused eyes showed that she was completely absorbed in it.
Gwen was a major reason he had decided to teach the mages. Even useless magic would be effective on Gwen if she saw enough of it.
“Miss Gwen’s condition seems strange.”
“Gwen has always been strange, so she’s normal.”
Galahad studied Gwen’s face. Her cheeks trembled, and mana rippled continuously around her.
Gwen was a type of mage Galahad had never encountered. Magic influenced by emotions. Could someone like that even be called a mage?
Magic was originally the domain of calculation and intellect. Emotions usually had a harmful effect.
Yet Gwen used magic through emotion. She had even used authority.
‘A mage who casts magic through emotion.’
She was the complete opposite of Galahad’s concept of magic. That was why she was even more interesting.
Gwen was an aberration who overturned everything he had known until now. What she had shown was too remarkable to dismiss.
It was not only magic. Gwen had used a Demonkin’s authority after seeing it once. If anything, she seemed more suited to authority.
There was no need to look far. The magic floating behind Gwen was proof enough.
Even the Master of the Twilight Magic Tower, whom Galahad considered a candidate for Great Archmage, did not possess such talent.
There was only one thing he wondered about now.
‘Can she use Hellfire too?’
He wondered whether Gwen could use Hellfire or spatial magic, both called primordial magic.
That was why he had called Gwen over. He wanted seeing countless spells to make her mind more receptive.
‘She should be able to.’
Hellfire was more beautiful than any magic Galahad had ever seen. There was a good chance Gwen would become absorbed in it and cast it.
‘I’m a little stiff.’
Galahad clicked his tongue and sipped from his canteen. Demonkin blood spread through him, and mana began circulating again.
He slowly prepared the spell. Hellfire could not be made at a moderate size. It demanded every bit of his concentration. Compressing the mana made his heart ache.
Thump, thump, thump.
The Egg of Pain began beating continuously. High-density mana extracted from Demonkin blood circulated through him.
Perhaps because he had seen spatial magic, casting Hellfire was more difficult than before.
Soon.
“Hellfire.”
A tiny flame appeared above Galahad’s finger. Even the air around it seemed to melt beneath its overwhelming presence.
A groan escaped his lips from the excessive use of mana. Galahad swallowed it back and pushed Hellfire toward Gwen.
Gwen’s eyes cleared. Her mouth fell open.
Then.
“Wow.”
She exclaimed loudly.
It was a different reaction from before. Galahad frowned.
“Don’t say wow. Try copying it.”
“This?”
“Yes. It is Hellfire.”
“How?”
Gwen’s voice was completely sincere. It was the reaction someone would have if told to fly.
“You copy magic whenever you see something impressive. Copy this too.”
“What? This?! I absolutely can’t! How am I supposed to do that? No, how did you do it?!”
Gwen reacted fiercely. Galahad frowned. Was it because it was primordial magic?
“Look at it closely. You can do it.”
“Hmm.”
After staring at it for a moment, Gwen opened her mouth wide.
“You’re really amazing! How can you cast magic like this? Wow!”
“Stop admiring it and try it.”
“What? I really don’t think I can! That’s the feeling I get!”
At Gwen’s fierce refusal, Galahad shook his hand. Hellfire melted away and scattered.
‘She can copy authority, but not primordial magic.’
He had not expected that. The mystery only deepened.
“Why can’t you?”
“How am I supposed to?”
Gwen asked as if he were saying something absurd. Galahad frowned.
“And this one says you need to stop overworking it!”
Gwen shouted, pointing at Galahad’s chest. His condition certainly was not good.
He had faced Fox Mask, then immediately dealt with the mages and cast Hellfire.
Still.
“Calling this overworking is ridiculous. It’s had an easy life.”
To Galahad, it was nothing.
‘Gwen copies both authority and magic, yet she cannot copy primordial magic...’
That had to mean something. Galahad quietly stared at Gwen.
“Um... Shall I give you some?”
“Give me what?”
“This!”
Gwen pointed at herself. No, more precisely, she pointed at her mana reservoir.
“You’ll give it to me?”
He had used Gwen instead of Magic Stones before, but giving him mana had a different meaning.
“I think I can give you some! With that full-throttle thing!”
“...Proxel?”
“Yes! The spy thing!”
“Hmm, Prox... No, go ahead.”
Gwen suddenly drove her head into Galahad’s chest. She hit him hard enough to make his body sway. Something flowed from Gwen’s forehead.
It was.
‘...Mana?’
Unmistakable mana. Its concentration was ordinary, but the amount was the problem. So much mana poured in that even Galahad found it difficult to bear.
He slowly circulated the mana. The weakness rapidly disappeared. Strength filled him again.
Soon.
“That is enough.”
None of the weakness from before remained. Galahad’s mana was full.
“How is it?”
Gwen asked with a face full of concern.
“You are useful.”
“...What?!”
At that moment, Damian approached from the side.
Damian was holding a staff rather than a sword. The expression was oddly serious.
“...Damian, holding a staff does not make you a mage.”
Damian quickly turned around. Gilbert stood there, wearing a sly smile as though imagining something strange.
Damian hurriedly put on a robe.
“Putting on a robe won’t work either.”
Damian’s shoulders slumped.
* * *
Marhan of the Sixth Battalion yawned widely. Night watch was the duty soldiers hated most.
The cold that bit into the flesh was a problem, but the greater problem was how unbearably boring it was.
Monsters appeared from time to time, but they rarely reached the guard post. It happened even less often with the Sixth Battalion.
Normally, they would pass the time sipping alcohol or playing a simple dice game, but things had become strict because of what had recently happened in Hellove.
“The commander wasn’t bad, you know.”
Marhan nodded at his colleague Karl’s mutter.
The Sixth Battalion commander had not interfered much. From the soldiers’ perspective, that was not bad.
“I heard the Grand Duke pulled his head off. Horrifying.”
Marhan clicked his tongue.
The commander had been undeniably strong. For the Grand Duke to pull off the commander’s head...
“His Grace is truly incredible.”
“I need to improve my grip strength too. Ted, let me pull your head off.”
“Put on gloves so your hands don’t slip.”
“A high-ranking Demonkin, huh? If one falls into my hands, it’s finished.”
Karl said as he spun his thick sword around. Before long, he got bored and began talking about women. Then the topic shifted to the battalion.
“Who do you think will become the next commander?”
The Grand Duke had promoted the deputy commander, but it was temporary. The deputy commander was skilled, but a commander was on an entirely different level. The Grand Duke would surely appoint one officially later.
“I hope Galahad comes.”
“He’s a mage. You want me to serve under a mage?”
“He is acknowledged by His Grace. Why does it matter that he’s a mage?”
“No matter how much he is acknowledged, he is still a mage.”
“So what can you do about it?”
An argument quickly broke out. It was a common reaction whenever Galahad’s name came up. Knowing it would end with, “We follow His Grace’s judgment,” Marhan quietly turned his gaze away.
The northern night was brutally dark. Without the torches, they would not have been able to see even an inch ahead.
There was only thickly piled snow and gaunt trees. Marhan yawned again. It was an unbearably dull sight.
Then something caught his eye.
Something stood on the path between the trees. It was too small to be a Monster. Marhan narrowed his eyes.
It was.
‘...A child?’
A child in a cloak. A ridiculous-looking child wearing a crown without jewels.
The child walked barefoot through the falling snow. A long line followed behind. None of them had an expression. They moved as though they were one body. There was only one set of footprints.
‘A high-ranking Demonkin...’
Marhan hurriedly tried to ring the bell.
Ding.
His body froze completely. Even his eyes could not move.
Crunch, crunch.
The sound of footsteps in the snow drew closer. Countless footsteps sounded at once.
“High.”
A flat voice reached him. Marhan found himself kneeling.
As though he had met his master.
The inside of the guard post grew noisy. Soldiers appeared atop the wall.
“Who is it? A high-ranking Demonkin...”
Then the child opened their mouth.
“High.”
The voice remained flat.
Thud! Thud!
Heavy impacts sounded one after another. The soldiers atop the wall fell to the ground. There was neither fear nor pain on the faces of the soldiers whose necks had snapped.
The gate opened smoothly.
“How dare they take what is mine...”
The Ruler’s voice was full of rage.
Footnotes:
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