WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Ceaseless
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Northern Grand Duke’s Mad Son-in-Law ◈
Chapter 93: Dad
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‘They’ve been crushed.’
Eight let out a low groan as he looked over the more than thirty mages.
Mages were proud by nature. Yet they were silent now, their faces deeply twisted.
They had all attacked together and still failed to touch even the hem of Galahad’s clothes. The shock had to be immense.
He had handed them a flawless defeat, then suggested joining a Magic Tower. It was a plan meticulous enough to send chills down one’s spine.
The mages driven to the North had no choice but to follow Galahad.
The problem was that their spirit had been completely broken. Galahad seemed to think of them as little more than Magic Stone miners, so it probably did not matter much to him.
‘A little unfortunate.’
Galahad was not a man who lied. If he said he would build a Magic Tower, he would build a Magic Tower.
They would become the mages of that Magic Tower. It was not good for such mages to lose their drive. It was a matter of efficiency.
That drive was needed to grow the Magic Tower.
Then...
“You rotten Academy professors! You taught me nothing but useless magic!”
Corton suddenly shouted. Eight frowned at the unexpected blame-shifting. Why was Corton blaming the Academy professors for his own loss?
“It’s the professors’ fault for teaching us useless magic! They must have wanted nothing but workers to make magical devices! I knew something was wrong when they treated Galahad so well! They must have taught only Galahad real magic! Those bastards caused this defeat!”
Corton shouted so fiercely that veins stood out on his neck. Blaming professors despite graduating long ago... Eight was quietly appalled.
“But things are different now! The professors can’t blind me anymore! My eyes have opened anew. Away with the shell! It can no longer hold me back!”
Corton truly seemed to believe that the Academy professors were responsible for his defeat. There was something stirring in his desperate anger toward the established order.
Blaming others was sweet. It was even sweeter in a hopeless situation like this.
“To hand over your teachings for a few Magic Stones... How arrogant, Galahad! I’ll make you regret this day!”
Corton raised a pickaxe and shouted. One by one, the mages grabbed pickaxes at his impassioned blame-shifting.
“Away with the shell! Hahaha!”
Eight was sincerely impressed.
‘Corton should become the Society Head.’
If Eight ever left Dawn, Dawn could take Corton in his place.
* * *
‘It’s really angry.’
Fox Mask clicked their tongue as they glanced around.
The Sixth Battalion’s base was made up of sharp, spired buildings. Soldiers lay sprawled everywhere. They had stiffened like stone and did not move.
‘The Ruler...’
The Ruler’s authority had absolute influence over those weaker than it. The Sixth Battalion, without its commander, could not resist it. Numbers meant nothing before the Ruler.
Fox Mask frowned and moved farther into the castle.
Several bodies pierced by swords lay on the ground. They were knights. They seemed to have resisted by drawing upon aura. The result had been pathetic. Soldiers cut in half littered the area around them.
‘They pushed their comrades forward.’
It was a filthy method befitting the Ruler. Fox Mask clicked their tongue.
In the end, the entire Sixth Battalion had fallen.
‘What am I supposed to do with this...’
The Ruler’s actions made Fox Mask’s head throb.
The Ruler was a card they could not easily discard. Its authority could be very useful depending on the situation. This was proof enough. There was nothing better than the Ruler when facing a large group.
The way to resolve this was to hand Galahad over to the Ruler.
But...
‘Someone who uses infernal fire.’
Strictly speaking, it was not infernal fire. If it had been true infernal fire, space itself would have melted and flowed away the moment he brought it out.
It was magic that imitated infernal fire. It was not the real thing, but neither was it weak enough to dismiss.
That made it even more troublesome.
He was a mage, not Demonkin. Yet he could imitate infernal fire.
That was no small matter.
That would disprove the failed creation the First Mage had spoken of.
‘What exactly is he?’
Fox Mask narrowed their eyes at the tallest tower.
The Ruler liked high places. As expected, the Ruler was in the highest tower.
The Ruler sat on a chair made of people. Demonkin lined up behind it. It was the collection the Ruler took pride in.
It looked as though it had built a kingdom, but its face was filled with fury.
“You still haven’t caught him?”
The Ruler asked in an irritated voice. Fox Mask nodded.
“He’s with the Grand Duke.”
“Isn’t the Grand Duke tied down anyway?”
“They sometimes take the leash off.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
It was laughable bravado. The Ruler’s authority only worked on those beneath it. Against someone stronger, the Ruler was powerless.
The Grand Duke was clearly above the Ruler. No, the Grand Duke was a monster beyond any rank. Fox Mask had not been moving cautiously for no reason.
Still, there was no need to provoke the Ruler. The Ruler, in the form of a child, was immature. Poking at it for no reason could make things worse. It was better to soothe it as much as possible.
“I baited him, so he’ll come out soon. Please be patient a little longer. I’ll bring him to you right away.”
“Be patient? Ha!”
The Ruler abruptly rose from its seat.
“Do you know what the Golden Scepter he took was?”
The Ruler’s voice dropped low. Fox Mask frowned.
“I know. It’s a key, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and you’re telling me to be patient?”
The Ruler’s presence pressed down on Fox Mask. They let out a small sigh.
Every last one of them...
Fox Mask looked at the Ruler. The Ruler’s movements stopped abruptly.
“Yes, I understand why you’re angry. You lost the key.”
Fox Mask’s eyes hardened. A distortion appeared at the Ruler’s shoulder. Its eyes narrowed.
“But did I lose it? You were the one who got beaten, idiot.”
The Ruler grimaced. The Demonkin behind it took a step forward. A heavy sound echoed through the tower.
Fox Mask shook their head.
“Let’s not take it too far. I said I’ll bring him, didn’t I?”
“You must bring him.”
Fox Mask nodded at the Ruler’s heavy voice.
“The ones with him too... I’ll add them all to my collection.”
The Ruler turned its head. Demonkin and Monsters stood packed together. Their faces were blank, as though they had been stuffed and mounted.
What terrible taste. Or perhaps it was clever. Fox Mask sighed.
“Yes, but Adrianna is not allowed. You know why, right?”
The Ruler nodded.
“Because she is the sacrifice.”
“Yes, because she is the sacrifice.”
“I am not one who waits. I am one who rules.”
With that, the Ruler sat down again. One of the people beneath it stretched out their tongue. With a crisp pop, the person burst. It was pointless venting.
“To take my Golden Scepter... Yes, he has a good eye.”
The Ruler muttered quietly.
[It’s a souvenir.]
Fox Mask barely held back their laughter.
This was why it was so entertaining.
Their interest kept growing.
It was Fox Mask’s chronic illness.
* * *
‘Hmm.’
Galahad held out the Golden Scepter and frowned. He measured the distance by looking at its tip.
‘About this far.’
The range of his spatial magic was the length of the Golden Scepter when he held one end and stretched it out.
He had been practicing spatial magic continuously, but neither its power nor range had increased.
‘The higher the mana concentration, the longer the range.’
That was the conclusion he had reached after several attempts. Right now, Galahad’s limit was roughly the length of the fully extended Golden Scepter.
‘Just how dense is the mana of that Fox Mask bastard?’
No, it was not simply a matter of concentration. Unlike Galahad, who could only distort space, Fox Mask could move freely through it.
The reason that was possible was...
‘Demonkin have highly concentrated mana flowing through their blood.’
That was likely the principle Fox Mask had applied.
‘That person used to be a mage. A very exceptional mage, at that.’
Galahad became certain of it again. Even a high-ranking Demonkin should not have been able to move so freely. There was a strong chance Fox Mask was using Mana Compression.
‘Is spatial movement impossible for me?’
Even if Galahad possessed highly concentrated mana, it was not engraved in his blood like it was for Demonkin. Human mana was centered around the heart.
‘If Demonkin can do it because their blood contains highly concentrated mana...’
Galahad considered the premise for a moment. Sweat rolled down from his forehead and along the bridge of his nose.
Soon, he reached a fitting conclusion.
‘Then I only need to contain highly concentrated mana in my blood as well.’
It was a neat conclusion. Whether it was possible was something he could test.
‘Come to think of it, I left research with the Dark Magic Society branch in the Fifth Battalion...’
He recalled the people he had met when he entered the Dark Magic Society’s Fifth Battalion branch with Corton.
‘Their names were Shern and Parntal, right?’
Since they had not appeared during the last incident, they were likely still conducting research.
They had been studying while drinking Demonkin blood, so they should have results by now.
‘I should stop by.’
Thump! Thump!
The Egg of Pain shook violently.
“It says human blood and Demonkin blood are different! It says it’s extremely dangerous!”
“I’ll only know if I try.”
“It says you’re a crazy human! Oh my! Was that a secret? You should have told me earlier! Sorry.”
Human blood and Demonkin blood really were different.
But...
‘Your reaction is quite intense.’
Thump.
The Egg of Pain trembled faintly.
The reason the Egg of Pain was reacting so violently was obvious.
If Galahad came to contain highly concentrated mana in his blood...
‘You would no longer be needed.’
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The Egg of Pain urgently pressed against his heart.
“It says it’s hurt!”
‘It’s fine. You can’t stay here forever either.’
Thump! Thump! Thump!
“It says it likes it here! It’ll work hard at massages, and it won’t secretly skim any off...”
‘Were you still skimming some off?’
Thump!
The Egg of Pain shook heavily, full of urgency.
“It’s asking you to look after it until it hatches, at least. Oh my, are you hatching?”
Hatch? Galahad frowned at the strange word.
Hatching...
Suddenly, he recalled the young Adrianna he had seen in his dream.
“If Galahad gives birth, are you Dad? Or are you Mom because you gave birth?”
“Gwen... what are you talking about?”
At that moment, weakness washed over him. Burning, terrible pain spread through his body. It was mana exhaustion.
Spatial magic consumed a considerable amount of mana. It was not as bad as Hellfire, but using it four times was enough to bring on mana exhaustion.
“Gwen!”
“Yes!”
Gwen slammed her forehead against him. Mana flowed up through her forehead.
Gwen’s mana was pure. It was clean like spring water found deep in the mountains. His depleted mana filled up in an instant.
Normally, replenishing mana took quite a while. Some people needed as long as a week.
Even Galahad, who had emptied his mana every day since childhood, needed five hours.
Now, he replenished mana by drinking Demonkin blood, so it did not take long. That method came with side effects, though.
His mind could become unstable, the Egg of Pain could grow insolent, and his mana channels could expand. Little problems like that.
Gwen’s method of replenishing mana was different. Her replenishment was similar to Galahad’s natural mana recovery, but incomparably faster.
It even healed mana exhaustion. If Demonkin blood gave him highly concentrated mana, Gwen gave him mana recovery.
If he used both at once...
‘I can keep training magic.’
Galahad’s lips curved upward. What an excellent environment.
“Um... You look like you’re in pain, so couldn’t you recover it beforehand?”
“You mean mana exhaustion?”
“Yes, that. Your body shakes so much. If you ask for mana before it happens...”
She had a point. If he received mana before mana exhaustion set in, he would not have to suffer it.
But if he did that...
“Wouldn’t that lower the efficiency?”
“...What?”
“To use you efficiently, I should use all my mana, then recover it from you.”
“B-But it hurts!”
“I’m used to pain.”
Gwen looked appalled. Galahad lightly ignored her and concentrated.
Once he focused completely, the surrounding noise faded away.
His vision expanded greatly. He did not even blink. He compressed his mana as much as possible. The area around his heart grew painfully tight.
Thump! Thump!
The Egg of Pain continuously scattered mana through him. It was working harder than usual. After releasing mana, it even pressed against his heart.
Of course, none of that helped with the compression.
His gaze fixed on one point. Galahad slowly extended the Golden Scepter.
The easier a spell was to imagine, the better. This was spatial magic, which required moving highly concentrated mana all at once.
“Box, cat, rift.”
Space some distance away rippled.
It was the same distance as before, but...
“It got a little bigger.”
Galahad swept back his messy bangs and smiled brightly.
He immediately focused again. How many times had he used the magic before terrible pain made him stop?
Mana exhaustion.
“Gwen.”
Galahad called Gwen while sipping from his canteen. Gwen urgently struck her forehead against him.
The pain vanished. Mana filled him to the brim. Galahad nodded in satisfaction as he sipped from his canteen.
Just as he was about to focus again, Gwen stepped in front of him.
“You’re bleeding from your nose!”
“I’m fine. Move.”
“You’re not well! Please rest for a while first...”
“Gwen.”
Gwen looked at Galahad. His already pale skin had turned deathly white. Blood ran from his nose, and the blood vessels in his eyes had burst, leaving them red.
Anyone could see that he was in a dangerous state.
He intended to keep practicing. She should have stopped him, but...
“I’m fine. This isn’t enough to kill me.”
That’s not the problem!
It was absurd, but Gwen had no choice but to nod.
Galahad was smiling broadly as though he was truly enjoying himself.
* * *
‘Something is going wrong.’
Bart of the Dark Magic Society’s Fifth Battalion branch bit down hard on his lip.
The Dark Magic Society had always worshipped ascension. It was a place that would not hesitate over anything for that purpose.
Yet recently, something had gone wrong with the Dark Magic Society.
“Let’s have another productive day.”
“Did you bring lunch? You need to eat well to mine better.”
Dark mages chatted as they passed by. Instead of magic books, they held pickaxes in their hands.
“What are you doing? Why are you mining Magic Stones instead of practicing magic?”
“Bart, you still haven’t heard? Whoever mines the most Magic Stones becomes the Society Head. You should mine too. Become the Society Head.”
The one who mined the most Magic Stones would become the Society Head? Did that make any sense?
Bart bit down hard on his lip.
Everyone had gone crazy. They were happy because mining Magic Stones earned money and could make them Society Head.
Not everyone had gone out to mine Magic Stones. Some continued their research quietly in the laboratories deeper inside.
“Aaaagh!”
Bart rushed inside at the terrible scream. The researcher Parntal was rolling on the floor. It looked like something serious had happened, but Shern, beside Parntal, remained calm.
“How is it? Does it hurt a lot? Was a mid-ranking Demonkin too much? That person drank it like wine...”
“The coefficient! Five times that of a lower-ranking...”
Only when Bart cleared his throat did the two look at him. Their gazes were strange, unfocused and hollow.
“Do you have a moment?”
“We’re busy. We’re carrying out research directly ordered by the Central Society.”
“...The Central Society?”
The Central Society was something like a legend within the Dark Magic Society.
But...
“The Society Head changed a long time ago. The Society has been strange ever since.”
“No, you don’t understand. That’s fake. The real Central Society has not revealed itself. To that person, Demonkin blood is wine.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s better not to know.”
Parntal spoke while swirling a transparent glass. Demonkin blood sloshed inside. A lightning-shaped scar was visible on Parntal’s wrist.
‘The state of these bastards...’
Bart narrowed his eyes. Just as he took a cautious step back, the two suddenly strode toward him.
“You came at the perfect time.”
“That’s right. We just finished our research on Demonkin blood.”
“And human blood too.”
“Bart, do you know the difference between Demonkin blood and human blood?”
“...The difference?”
“Human blood has no mana. Demonkin blood contains highly concentrated mana.”
“What are you talking about? Human blood has mana.”
“No, we need to be precise. Not humans...”
Shern looked up. Shern’s eyes were red. It was not from burst blood vessels. They were simply red.
Bart’s mouth fell open. What a grotesque...
Then Shern spoke.
“Mana exists in a mage’s blood.”
“Now, here’s the question.”
“Is a mage human, or Demonkin?”
Footnotes:
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