Chapter 10
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Ordinary Tom
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“Eating is important. Especially for a growing boy like you. Eat as much as you can and grow up big and strong.”
Galahad immediately regretted his words.
Damian went through five tablefuls of food in one sitting. It got to the point where even the once-hesitant Captain Hook was now beaming at Galahad.
“Is this the first time you’ve ever eaten a meal in your life?”
“It’s been a while.”
“Right, eat your heart out. No, on second thought, just eat half your heart out.”
Galahad clicked his tongue softly and surveyed the tavern. It was bustling with activity.
“Lift it there. Ah! Can’t you lift it properly? You son of a bitch!”
“I’m telling you, the head is heavier! Let’s switch places, you bastard.”
The men Captain Hook had called were clearing away the unconscious and the dead as if they were hauling luggage. From what he overheard, they had all been troublemakers. He had to pay one silver coin for the body disposal fee.
Just then, the tavern door burst open. Gilberton strode in, brushing snow from his shoulders.
His brow furrowed at the sight of the blood-soaked tavern. Annoyance flooded his face.
The men moving the corpses tensed at the sudden appearance of a knight. No matter how chaotic the place was, they still seemed to wary of knights.
At that moment, the tavern owner, Captain Hook, rushed over to Gilberton.
“Sir Knight! It was them! They were just cutting people down and eating food without paying! They’re terrible men!”
“Now, now, didn’t I pay for the food?”
“Shut it, you filthy magician!”
Galahad clicked his tongue in disbelief. Captain Hook, who had already taken money for the food and the body cleanup, was now tattling to Gilberton.
“What kind of trouble did you cause this time?”
Gilberton asked, pressing his temples firmly.
“Trouble? We were just sitting here quietly when those men drew their blades on us. I swear, I nearly died. Thank goodness Damian saved me! Right, Damian?”
“Eh! Was good!”
“Chew what’s in your mouth before you speak. You’re spraying food everywhere.”
Damian nodded his head vigorously.
“...Sir Knight?”
Captain Hook blinked. Gilberton deliberately avoided his gaze.
“So, you’re saying I didn’t pay?”
“...Pardon? Pardon me?!”
“Then the silver in your pocket must have been stolen from me! Sir Gilberton! Seize that man!”
“Eek! My apologies, milord! My apologies!”
Captain Hook promptly threw himself to the floor. A splash of red, from blood that hadn’t been wiped up, splattered beneath him.
“Sir Gilberton, search that man’s pockets. He stole my silver! Cut off his other arm to even things out!”
Startled by Gilberton’s sigh, Captain Hook pulled out the silver coin and offered it up. Gilberton accepted it with a deeply reluctant expression.
“So, where’s the other one you were supposed to bring?”
“He died of a cold, apparently.”
“Hmm, what a shame. We still need one more. Captain Hook! Are there any decent men around here?”
“Well, there was one…”
“Why the past tense? Did he die of a cold, too?”
Instead of answering, Captain Hook gestured toward the floor with his eyes.
The men dragging away the one-eyed corpse offered awkward smiles. Ah, so he just died.
“He wasn’t much good anyway. He was missing an eye, wasn’t he? The eyes are the windows to the soul, very important. Captain Hook! Ever caught a demon before?”
“Never, sir!!”
Startled, Captain Hook scurried away into the back as if fleeing.
Just then, a rough cough echoed from the far corner. A man was curled up tightly, like a pill bug.
Had it not been for the ever-observant Galahad, he would have gone unnoticed.
‘Both arms attached, legs are there, face is intact…’
Pass.
Galahad slowly rose from his seat.
***
As his name suggested, Tom was an exceedingly ordinary northern man. With his average height and average looks, he was so remarkably unremarkable that people often said they had trouble remembering him even after seeing him several times.
His nickname was even ‘Ordinary’ Tom.
A recent problem in Tom’s squad had forced him to transfer. As a result, Tom was on standby at the castle.
Sitting in the tavern, Tom was mulling over the transfer orders that were due tomorrow. He was worrying about where he’d be assigned and whether the people there would be decent.
The trouble started when a man who was clearly a noble and a slightly smaller boy entered the tavern.
A dispute broke out, and the boy shot to his feet. A man’s head flew into the air. Tom slammed his own head onto the table.
When he opened his eyes again, the tavern had turned into a thick, red stew.
Tom was curled up, making himself as small as possible. It was his specialty. He had survived on the battlefield several times using this very technique—
“A pleasure to meet you. The name’s Galahad, Captain of the Special Task Force.”
The man, who had somehow appeared right in front of him, extended a hand.
Tom hastily shook it. The man’s hand was as cold as ice, startling him slightly.
“Private! Tom!”
“Why are you on standby here? Are you injured?”
The man’s voice held a strange power. Listening to it made one feel oddly at ease, a ticklish sort of comfort.
“No, sir! I’m just on standby while my squad is being reassigned. My new orders come in tomorrow!”
“Oh, on standby, are you? Tell me, can you fight?”
“No, sir!”
“I see. Congratulations! As of today, you’re in the Special Task Force.”
“...Pardon?”
Tom blinked several times. Had he heard correctly? The flow of the conversation was so bizarre he couldn't keep up.
“Pack your things. The demons are calling.”
“No… I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I’m just an ordinary private.”
“I know. Your mana is exceedingly ordinary, too.”
“What? What does that… But then why…”
“Now that I’ve gathered everyone, they all have too much personality. I need someone ordinary, like myself.”
Tom blinked at the man who called himself ordinary.
To Tom, this man was even more unsettling than the boy covered in blood, devouring raw meat. There was an unbridgeable distance about him.
“And we’re one man short.”
For some reason, that last part felt like the real reason.
“Welcome, Tom.”
However, Tom had no choice in the matter.
“Private! Tom! Thank you, sir!”
Tom choked back a tear.
“Now, go have a chat with your new squadmates.”
Led to the table, Tom swallowed hard.
To be sitting at the same table as the hero of the front lines, Sir Gilberton… Next to him was a boy, drenched in blood, tearing into a piece of raw meat.
And at the center of it all sat the Grand Duke’s son-in-law, the most famous man in the castle these days.
It was a combination that didn’t suit Ordinary Tom at all.
“This is Tom. Tom, you’re the last one to join, so you’re the youngest.”
“Why recruit a common soldier? He’ll just die quickly.”
“...Am I going to die?”
“Tom, all men die eventually. What’s more important is how valuable that death is. Isn’t that right?”
“...You’re saying I’m going to die?!”
“Don’t you worry. Now that you’re in the Special Task Force, your death will be a magnificent and worthy one.”
Tom let out a small scream. He was going to die! Tom wanted to live a long life.
“I really think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m a truly ordinary private. I’m not fit for the Special Task Force.”
“I told you not to worry. We even have a former maid in our unit.”
“...A maid, you say?”
“A maid who was terrible at cleaning and washing dishes. She’s your senior.”
Tom was at a loss for words. He couldn’t seem to get through to this man, yet somehow, he was strangely convinced. If a maid could be in it, then maybe it was okay?
“So, what is the mission of the Special Task Force?”
“I’m telling you this only because it’s you. Keep it to yourselves.”
Galahad’s sudden seriousness made Tom swallow hard.
Personally established by His Grace the Grand Duke… it was clearly no ordinary unit. Even its name was the Special Task Force.
Just what incredible mission could it be…
“Our mission is to prevent the destruction of the continent.”
‘…That’s too incredible!’
Tom’s eyes widened as if they would tear.
A silence fell at Galahad’s calm declaration. Even Damian, who had been eating, paused.
“Are you joking again?”
Gilberton finally snapped, his voice laced with irritation.
But Tom couldn’t laugh.
Because as he said it, Galahad’s eyes were, for the first time, completely serious.
“Ah, I need to use the privy. Gilberton, why are you getting up? I’m a man with a woman to marry. Sit down.”
Gilberton, who had started to rise with Galahad, scowled deeply and sat back down.
“Go on, order whatever you want! I’ve got plenty of money!”
Galahad declared magnanimously as he left the tavern.
“Order more. Let’s bleed that bastard dry.”
Gilberton said with a wave of his hand. In response, Damian shot his hand into the air. The table was refilled once again.
‘He’s eating again?’
Damian was truly eating like a madman. It was a wonder how all that food fit into his small body.
Gilberton sipped his wine, his eyes on the door, while Tom, caught in the middle, could do nothing but sit still.
The only sound at the table was Damian tearing at his meat. Tom, feeling awkward, tried to make a few jokes, but received no response.
When Tom, too, fell silent, only stillness remained.
To think it would become like this just because Galahad was gone.
Tom waited desperately for Galahad to return.
The problem was…
No matter how much time passed, Galahad did not come back.
“About the bill…”
The tavern owner approached hesitantly, looking extremely nervous as he asked.
“That damn bastard—”
Gilberton’s face twisted into a ferocious scowl.
Tom desperately curled his body, trying to make himself smaller.
***
‘It should be around here.’
Galahad squinted, staring straight ahead.
The Empire’s Intelligence Bureau had its tendrils spread across the entire continent. The talk of them moving the continent wasn’t just idle chatter.
Galahad knew the location of every Intelligence Bureau safe house on the continent. It was information he had spent a long time painstakingly acquiring.
The Bureau rarely changed the locations of its safe houses. It was born from a confidence that they had no equal, and a deeply ingrained laziness.
‘Here it is.’
Galahad took a deep drag from his mana-laced cigarette.
The safe house was on the very outskirts of the castle grounds. The wind was unusually strong here, as if there were a hole in the world right next to it.
There were remnants of houses nearby, but they were all collapsed. It didn't look like a place where people lived.
In their midst stood a small house. The houses on either side had crumbled in a way that seemed to cover it, a clever location that one wouldn't notice without looking closely.
A soft blanket of snow lay before the door. Galahad examined it.
The door looked so shabby it might fall off with a good shake. In the center was a small groove. It looked like a simple indentation, but it was, in fact, a high-level security device.
The doors to the Bureau’s safe houses could only be opened by touching a corresponding magical tool to them.
The method utilized the difference in the speed of mana based on its concentration.
Forcing the door open would trigger an internal alarm, incinerating everything inside.
Since calculating the precise mana required for the corresponding magical tool was practically impossible, it was currently the most advanced security method.
‘Still the same.’
It was the exact method Galahad had proposed during his entrance exam for the Intelligence Bureau.
He had only presented the basic theory, and the Bureau had taken it and developed it. Of course, Galahad’s name was nowhere in the credits.
‘A bunch of crooked professors.’
He muttered a small curse and loosened his hands.
This security method had one very small problem.
If a magician knew the mana concentration of the magical tool and could match it, the lock could be easily bypassed.
But the mana concentration was top secret, impossible to memorize in the first place, and even if one knew it, magicians who could match mana concentration without a tool were even rarer.
Of course, Galahad was a very rare magician.
‘The mana here is…’
Galahad placed his hand on the groove and focused for a moment. Mana flowed through his hand.
If Galahad’s memory was wrong, or if the Empire had changed the safe house’s magical tool, it could lead to big trouble.
The Bureau would send the guys from Internal Affairs. They were a truly awful bunch. The situation would undoubtedly become quite troublesome.
However, there was no chance Galahad’s memory was wrong, nor was it likely the Empire had become diligent enough to change its safe houses.
‘Just as I thought.’
*Click.* With a pleasant sound, the door slowly swung open.
“Wh-who are you?”
A dumb-looking man asked, blinking his eyes.
Galahad hardened his expression, as if he were on a safe house inspection.
“Who am I?”
“...Pardon?”
“Did you just ask me who I am?”
“Well…”
When questioned sharply, the man’s voice trailed off. He would be confused. There was no scheduled visit, yet Galahad had opened the door and walked in.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t receive the report? It should have been sent at dawn.”
Galahad narrowed his eyes, chiding the man.
Galahad presented the man with a single hypothesis: You didn’t get the report because you weren’t doing your job, were you?
The man would be uncertain. Few people believed in themselves so firmly as to be unshaken.
“N-no, sir! Oh, I must have forgotten! We’ve been so busy lately! No! Rose must have received it. There’s been so much work recently! Please, come inside. She’ll be waiting.”
“Rose?”
“Ah, she’s my superior. I was only assigned here recently myself. We’ve had a lot of things to sort through, so I’ve been a bit preoccupied. Haha.”
The man rambled on with excuses as he led the way inside. Galahad glanced around briefly before following him.
*Knock, knock.*
“Ma’am Rose, a visitor from headquarters is here.”
Somehow, Galahad had become a visitor. The door opened with a creak.
It was a study-like room, filled with books and documents on all sides. A woman sat at its center.
She was a woman with striking dark red hair and red eyes.
‘Rose, huh? Interesting.’
The corner of Galahad’s mouth twitched subtly.
“A visitor?”
The woman looked up at Galahad, her eyes sharp.
Galahad studied her leisurely. Her long fingers were free of calluses. There were no dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was glossy.
Very well-maintained. Like a noble from the capital.
“You must be that Galahad?”
The woman said, her voice tinged with a nasal quality.
“That’s right, I’m that Galahad. But Rose… is that your real name? It’s as pretty as your face.”
Galahad sat down across from the woman, a smile playing on his lips.
“Oh my, thank you, but it’s my agent name.”
The woman twirled a strand of her hair with her finger, a thick smile spreading across her face.
Galahad chuckled softly and rummaged through his pocket.
“Ah, do you mind if I smoke?”
“Not at all. Be my guest.”
“Really? Thank you.”
Galahad swallowed the thick saliva in his mouth and placed a mana-laced cigarette between his lips. *Flick.* A flame ignited on his fingertip. Beyond the flame, he could see the woman’s lips stretched into a wide smile.
Galahad watched the woman and adjusted his mana. The flame on his fingertip grew larger, then smaller, returning to its original size. The cigarette was lit.
‘Just right.’
He took a deep drag. His lungs filled completely. His mana swirled in response. His mind cleared. Like a beating heart, his mana swelled and then subsided.
It was a ritual as solemn as a knight donning his armor.
“Could you dispose of this for me?”
“Huh? Oh, yes!”
*Tap, tap.* Galahad handed the finished cigarette to the man and put a fresh one in his mouth.
‘This should be enough.’
Galahad exhaled a deep cloud of smoke.
“How long have you been here?”
“About a year now, I suppose?”
“Not long, then. It must be tough, coming from the capital to live in a cold, barbaric place like this.”
“It’s all for the Empire.”
“Is that so? Are you married to the Empire, too?”
“Marriage isn’t my style.”
“I see. I had a similar thought myself recently.”
The woman burst into laughter. The way she covered her mouth was tantalizingly sly. My, my, Galahad muttered to himself.
A brief silence followed. The woman hummed softly, seemingly in a good mood, while the man was putting the cigarette butt in his pocket.
Galahad tapped the ash from his cigarette. The unpleasant smell was pushed away by a scent of lemon.
“Well then,”
His calculations complete, Galahad spoke calmly.
The woman’s and the man’s gazes simultaneously fixed on him.
“Where is the real Rose?”
At Galahad’s question, the man tilted his head.
“Isn’t she right in front of you?”
“This is a secret, but agent names are chosen to be the least fitting for the agent. It’s to make them harder to remember.”
Galahad pointed to the woman’s red hair and eyes. The smile on the woman’s face stiffened.
*Flick.* The flame ignited once more. Its warmth drew in the mana.
“Second, the northern safe houses are rarely assigned as a first post. Agents usually come here after serving in other regions. But you came straight from the capital, which is very strange. But fine, let’s say that’s possible.”
The woman opened her mouth to say something, but Galahad raised a hand to stop her.
“Would you hear me out a little longer? Thank you. Now, third, you knew I was with the Intelligence Bureau. If you had only known me as Adrianna’s future husband, you wouldn't have reacted so calmly to a civilian discovering a safe house.”
*Hooo.* A small puff of smoke escaped Galahad’s lips. The woman’s brow furrowed.
“To know about my connection to the Bureau… The higher-ups would never have revealed that. I’m a rather useful agent, you see. I get special treatment.”
“You’re quite confident, aren’t you?”
“It’s not confidence, it’s an objective assessment. Please, would you keep that mouth of yours shut? This is the important part. Alright, the Bureau has been run by idiots lately, so it’s possible you know who I am. The problem is what comes next.”
The woman twirled her finger as if to say, ‘go on.’ The concentration of mana thickened. A spark of interest lit Galahad’s eyes.
“You know who I am, yet you smile upon meeting me in a safe house. That makes the least sense. The usual reaction is to cry and beg for your life. Or attack first. But you?”
Galahad coughed lightly. The smoke came out in broken puffs.
“Interesting.”
The woman’s smile deepened once again.
“I don’t find it interesting. This is unpaid overtime. Now, I’ll ask again. Who are you?”
At his calm question, the woman smirked. In that instant, her mask seemed to shatter, her face cracking apart. Sharp thorns shot out from between the fissures.
‘The worst-case scenario.’
Galahad clicked his tongue and crossed his fingers.
*Twang!* A sharp sound echoed in the air as sparks flew. *Sizzle!* The woman’s grotesque face, split in half, flashed in the orange light.
Between lips that were split vertically, a long, serpentine tongue flickered.
“A demon, then.”
“Oh my, you found me out?”
The woman said, her voice a thick, amused drawl.
“How clever of you. Your brain must be delicious.”
The woman’s forked tongue moved with a fluid, taunting grace.
The mana concentration skyrocketed. It was so dense he could feel a sticky sensation on his skin.
In the tense atmosphere, where the slightest move could set everything off—
“You! You weren’t Rose?!”
The man shouted stupidly.
This is maddening.
Galahad smirked and flicked his fingers.
It was overtime.