Chapter 26
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Invitation
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“Hahaha—”
Mark didn't get angry; he burst out laughing.
Galahad laughed along with him.
Soon, the laughter stopped abruptly. Galahad kept laughing a little longer.
“Are you telling me to work under the Special Task Force?”
Mark's words grew clipped. His tone was sharp.
In contrast, Galahad smiled leisurely.
“I wouldn't just ask you to join. There are conditions.”
“Go on.”
“The Black Magic Society is trying to collapse the front line.”
“Why—”
The question burst out like a dying gasp.
It was a logical question. They were the ones who leeched off the battalions, receiving the blood of the demon race and amassing wealth by mining mana stones.
How could anyone expect people like that to want the front line to collapse?
However, the likes of mages always moved in unpredictable ways.
“Traces of a monster tamer have also appeared.”
At his next words, Mark briefly held his breath. His expression soon returning to normal, he gestured for Galahad to continue.
“I'll handle that part.”
“That part?”
“The mana stone quarry and the Black Magic Society. You can't give up the quarry, can you?”
Mark's eyes narrowed. It was a look that sought to discern the truth.
Amid the strange tension, Galahad took a deep drag of his cigarette. His mana began to circulate rapidly.
“How do you plan on handling it?”
“Korton and I are from the same school, aren't we?”
“You two didn't seem that close.”
Galahad smiled instead of answering.
“Academy alumni have a rather strong bond. We've exchanged favors. They won't cause any trouble for a while. It was my request.”
Galahad took out a mana stone he had set aside. It was the highest quality one among those Korton had gifted him.
Seeing it, Mark let out a low groan.
“It's true, then.”
“I don't lie.”
“What was the favor Korton asked of you?”
“……That's a secret.”
Galahad answered with a small cough.
Mark's eyes filled with suspicion, but Galahad couldn't reveal the nature of the favor.
“Are you volunteering to be a spy?”
“Something like that.”
“And what do you want?”
“Didn't I tell you? To come work under me.”
“Wasn't that a joke?”
“My sense of humor is quite excellent. If it were a joke, you would have known.”
*Tap.* Mark's finger stopped. His shoulder twitched ever so slightly. The table stretched out—
Galahad immediately snapped the fingers of both hands. A translucent barrier appeared in front of him.
A spear had appeared in Mark's hand. It was a sharp spear, engraved with ornate decorations.
Mark's spear tore through Galahad's barrier with ease. It was a fine spear.
“Is it a Northern tradition to brandish your weapon at the drop of a hat?”
Galahad clicked his tongue, looking at the spear that had stopped right in front of him.
“I've never seen magic like this before.”
Mark remarked in admiration, looking at the sharp ice pick aimed at his neck.
The outcome was the same for both, but Mark's spear had been slightly faster.
It was only because Galahad had cast the ice pick with his left hand and the barrier with his right simultaneously that he had managed this much.
‘I’ll have to keep more distance.’
He had allowed that distance because he was certain Mark wouldn't actually stab him.
However, Mark's skill was the real deal.
The fact that his weapon was a spear was also unexpected.
‘A captain, huh—’
*Interesting.* The corner of Galahad's mouth lifted.
“I could kill all of them right now.”
Mark's speech reverted to a formal tone. Galahad chuckled and nodded.
“However, those bastards are quite good at hiding. They'd flee before you could kill them all.”
“They would. A bunch of insects.”
Mark's spear vanished in an instant. As if nothing had happened, he was tapping his fingers on the table again.
It was an incredible display of skill. Galahad inwardly thanked Mark for making a point of showing off his abilities.
Thanks to that, a situation where Mark's spear threatened him would never happen again.
“Fine. However, joining you doesn't make sense. The difference in scale is too large; it would look strange.”
“Reasonable.”
“Let's make it an alliance.”
*The man's a fox.* Galahad was amazed.
Proposing an alliance meant tying himself to Galahad. To prevent betrayal—
There was no downside.
An alliance was what Galahad had been aiming for in the first place.
Just as Mark's problems would become Galahad's, Galahad's problems would become Mark's.
Mark didn't know it, but Galahad's problems were incomparably larger than his.
It was a profitable deal.
“You'll join eventually, so wouldn't it be better to do it sooner? If you join now, you'll be my first customer, so I'll treat you even better.”
“I'm fine.”
Mark refused flatly and extended his hand. It was a hand full of calluses, unbefitting his appearance.
Galahad shook it lightly.
“Your hands are rough. Did you use a sword?”
“I've done a bit of everything.”
He tried infusing mana into it, but it was no use.
Aura could not be detected with mana.
Just then, the door flew open. Lumian, who had rushed in, froze at the sight of the two men shaking hands.
They released their clasped hands. Galahad wiped his hand on his coat and put a cigarette in his mouth.
“What is it?”
At Mark's question, Lumian glanced sideways at Galahad. Galahad gave him a relaxed wave.
“Don't worry. We're allies.”
“……Allies?”
“It's fine, just speak.”
As Mark nodded, Lumian, after a moment's hesitation, opened his mouth.
“The 4th Company has disappeared.”
A company disappeared—. Not attacked, but disappeared?
“Explain in detail.”
When Galahad asked, Lumian looked at Mark with a "what's with him" expression.
“Tell him.”
“We lost contact with them as they were returning from patrol duty.”
‘The branch manager wasn't there—’
He had a feeling the missing company and the absent branch manager were connected.
“Send everyone out to search, except for a skeleton crew. Where's the company commander?”
“He's waiting downstairs. Ah, there's also a possibility they've slacked off, using training as an excuse.”
“We'll reprimand them after we find them. For now, just find them. Tell the commander to lead the search himself.”
Mark gave his orders quickly.
Galahad raised a hand.
“We'll help too. What's the point of an alliance otherwise?”
“……Lumian, inform the company commander.”
Lumian's eyes widened as he stared at Mark.
Mark gave a slight nod.
“Ah, and clear out the space. So it can be used immediately.”
After Galahad left, Lumian looked at Mark and asked.
“Clear out the space—? What does that mean?”
“Ah, I've decided to give the third floor to the Special Task Force.”
“……What? Are you drunk, by any chance?”
“I quit drinking long ago.”
“Then why did you do something so crazy?”
At Lumian's harsh question, Mark clicked his tongue softly.
Galahad's proposal was reasonable, but it wasn't exactly necessary.
Mark could have overcome the situation even without it.
The reason he accepted the proposal anyway was—
“He was smiling.”
Even with a spear aimed at his neck, Galahad was smiling.
There was only one other person who had ever smiled with Mark's spear at their throat.
[To point a spear at the Grand Duke's neck. How amusing.]
“Come to think of it, he's the Grand Duke's son-in-law. Maybe I should have joined him. He said he'd treat me well—”
“Captain Mark!”
***
Gilberton wasn't particularly fond of Damian. He didn't like the boy's attitude toward his sword.
Dragging a blood-caked sword on the ground without even sheathing it—for Gilberton, a knight, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
Frustrated, Gilberton offered to clean it for him.
“Clean the sword? Why?”
“If the blade becomes dull, its sharpness decreases. A sword is like a lover. Do you want a dirty lover?”
“Hyung said you were dirty, Mister Gilberton.”
Gilberton coughed quietly. *That man, filling a child's head with nonsense.*
“Watch carefully. I'll show you.”
Gilberton slowly wiped Damian's sword. It wasn't easy, as it was caked with dried blood.
“Gwen, can I get some fire?”
“Okay! Fire, fire, fire!”
As he heated the sword with Gwen's fire, the impurities fell away. Gilberton then slowly sharpened the sword on a whetstone.
“When you sharpen a sword, don't try to do it all at once. Sharpen it slowly, section by section. Balanced and unhurried—”
As the filth fell away, the blade gradually revealed itself. Steam rose from Gilberton's body.
Seeing the grime that had bothered him so much fall away was incredibly refreshing.
‘A fine sword.’
It had a crude appearance, but the blade was exceptionally sharp.
It was in good condition despite the lack of maintenance. It was too fine a sword for a mere soldier to wield.
“It's a fine sword. Where did you get it?”
“I found it. Do you want it?”
*Giving it away—.* He didn't like that attitude.
“Didn't I say a sword is your lover? You must never give it or lend it to others.”
“I don't have a lover, so I wouldn't know. Do you?”
Gilberton returned to sharpening the sword in silence.
Soon, the maintained sword was as sharp as a beast's claw.
Knowing he would just drag it on the ground again, Gilberton wrapped the sword tightly in a cloth.
“You're kind.”
“I just can't stand to see a sword treated this way. I didn't do it for you.”
Gilberton said firmly.
*Clang, clang, clang, clang—.*
Just then, a loud noise rang out, and the area grew tumultuous.
Pushing aside the barracks flap, he saw many torches darting about in the dark night.
Something was clearly happening. Gilberton shifted his sword to a position where he could draw it easily.
“What's going on?”
Tom, who had already armed himself, asked in a tense voice.
“Looks like there's trouble. Doesn't seem like an attack, though—”
Gilberton realized that Galahad hadn't returned yet.
“Where's the Captain?”
“He hasn't returned yet, but—”
Tom winced slightly. His expression was somewhat uneasy.
Galahad disappears, and suddenly an alarm goes off—.
“Don't tell me he fried the 5th Battalion's commander with lightning?”
“……What are you talking about?”
Gilberton was serious. Ever since Hermun, Galahad had taken to saying he'd drop a lightning bolt on anyone who was even slightly impertinent.
Galahad wasn't the type of man to be intimidated just because his opponent was a commander.
Gilberton checked to see if the soldiers were shouting Galahad's name.
*Clang, clang, clang, clang!*
The loud ringing of the bell echoed again.
Just then, Galahad appeared in the distance.
Galahad was as relaxed as ever. With a cigarette in his mouth, he strode forward on his long legs.
“Oh, you're awake.”
“Did you fry him?”
“Fry him? What are you talking about?”
“Then what's all that?”
Gilberton asked, gesturing toward the commotion outside.
“Ah, a company went missing, I hear. Perfect timing. Let's head out immediately.”
“Where to?”
Galahad pointed behind him as he flicked the ash from his cigarette.
“A company from an allied unit has disappeared. Shouldn't we obviously help?”
“An allied unit? Did we have an alliance?”
“Ah, I've formed an alliance with the 5th Battalion.”
Gilberton squinted and muttered the sentence under his breath.
An alliance with the 5th Battalion? The 5th was a battalion that didn't belong to any faction. For them to form an alliance with the five-member Special Task Force—it made no sense.
In the North, an alliance wasn't such a simple relationship. An alliance meant staying together until the very end.
However, the Galahad that Gilberton knew did not lie.
“Why the sudden alliance—? Did you threaten to fry him with lightning?”
“What's with all this talk of frying? I just aimed an ice pick at him. Get ready. I'll explain the details on the way.”
Galahad's voice was friendly, but it left no room for argument.
Tom, who had packed his things, and Gwen, who had taken care of Damian, nodded.
‘But isn't an ice pick still a threat?’
In any case, it seemed the result was good, so that was a relief.
***
The Northern night was exceptionally dark. With a thick blanket of snow covering the ground, it was easy to get lost.
On top of that, it was so cold that every gust of wind felt like it was freezing you solid. Thankfully, he had the coat Tom had tailored for him.
Without it, he would have had to use a considerable amount of mana just to keep warm.
‘Missing—’
Galahad muttered to himself, looking at the soldiers ahead.
He had a premonition that the absent branch manager and the nearby disappearance of a company were connected.
Just then, a figure who looked like a knight approached from among the soldiers. Dressed in a coat over his armor, he was as massive as an orc.
The man carried two large axes at his waist. He seemed to be an axe wielder.
“I am Henry, commander of the 7th Company.”
The man who introduced himself as Henry gave a slight nod.
His attitude was a bit arrogant, but it was the most gentlemanly greeting Galahad had received in the North.
“Sir Gilberton! To meet you like this! It's truly an honor!”
Upon spotting Gilberton, Henry raised his voice and extended a hand. He acted as if he had met a celebrity. After that, other soldiers and knights also sought out Gilberton.
Gilberton was quite popular.
“I'm from the 1st Battalion.”
“Yes, I know.”
Galahad chuckled and looked ahead.
Despite it being a snowy field at night, their pursuit speed was considerable.
How long had they been going—
“Something's coming.”
Damian said, unwrapping the cloth from his sword.
Galahad pointed to the sky and snapped his fingers.
A bright light shot up like a firework and burst. The brilliant light illuminated the entire area.
Between the dense trees, red-eyed wolves could be seen. They were smaller than before. They seemed to be somewhere between monsters and beasts.
“Do monsters usually appear this often?”
“Is this what you call often?”
At Gilberton's retort, Galahad clicked his tongue softly.
Just what kind of place was the North?
Just then, another light appeared.
It was Gwen.
“You do it well now without being told.”
“Hehe—”
Gwen, with a halo of light above her head, laughed awkwardly.
Their numbers were large enough to be quite threatening.
“Wolf meat for dinner!”
Henry roared heartily, raising the axes in both hands. A long plume of breath escaped from his bearded mouth.
Shouting, Henry suddenly leaped forward. *Thump, thump!* Snow kicked up violently with each step. Henry pushed off the ground.
*Kwoong!* With a heavy sound, his massive body launched into the air. His back arched like a bowstring, muscles pulled taut.
The axe embedded itself squarely in a wolf's head. Red blood sprayed everywhere. Henry opened his mouth and drank the showering blood.
“It's a feast—!”
The other soldiers also drew their weapons and charged forward with a cheer.
A battle so fierce it was hard to tell if it was a hunt or a war began.
Gilberton drew his sword and joined in. His blade was filled with a brilliant aura.
Gilberton's sword cleaved through a wolf with ease. Blood gushed like a fountain from its hide. The white snow began to turn red.
The Northern soldiers fought with incredible, almost brutish skill.
There was one who jumped on a monster's back and choked it, and another who shoved his shoulder into a beast's maw just to get a good axe swing.
There was even one who laughed about felling a wolf in a single strike—. Ah, that was Gilberton.
“Sir Gilberton seems to be enjoying himself.”
“Should I fight too?”
At Damian's question, Galahad surveyed the battlefield.
“That's Sir Gilberton for you!”
“Follow my lead.”
Gilberton had blended in perfectly among the Northern barbarians.
It seemed their help wasn't needed.
“It's fine. It looks like Sir Gilberton will handle our share for us.”
Damian wrapped his sword in the cloth. Seeing his clumsy attempt, Gwen rolled up her sleeves, saying she'd do it. She was even worse.
In the end, Tom wrapped the sword.
Galahad tore into a piece of jerky Tom had made.
“This jerky is quite good.”
“……This is the most delicious jerky I've ever had.”
“More.”
“Damian, eat in moderation. We're on the job.”
Damian licked his lips. Gwen discreetly gave her share of the jerky to him. Damian didn't refuse and swallowed it in one bite.
The battle was overwhelming. It was more fitting to call it a hunt.
Among them, Gilberton was outstanding.
If they were beasts, they would have fled, but because they were monsters, they fought to the last, tangling with the soldiers.
Gilberton dragged over a carcass. His blood-soaked face was grim.
Gilberton placed the carcass in front of Galahad.
As expected, something was carved into the monster's belly.
However, the content was different from what Galahad had anticipated.
‘Interesting.’
It had the shape of a magic circle, but it wasn't one.
“Is it a monster tamer's magic circle?”
“This is a letter. A letter addressed to me.”
“A letter?”
As if it were absurd, Gilberton squinted and examined it.
“What does it say?”
“It says if I want to save the company, I should come alone.”
Galahad put a cigarette to his lips. Gwen quickly lit it for him. The scent of lemon wafted through the air. His mind cleared.
Just then, cheers erupted from the soldiers behind them, celebrating their victory. They were the blood-soaked, true men of the North.
They weren't the type to be led astray by threats. To lure such men—how on earth did they do it? Magic? Was there such a magic? A deep curiosity arose.
Above all—
‘This was all aimed at me.’
The letter was specifically addressed to Galahad.
How did they know?
He remembered the demon from the Intelligence Bureau's safe house. That demon knew about Galahad of the Intelligence Bureau.
Galahad's name wasn't so insignificant that it would be heard in a Northern safe house. The Intelligence Bureau's main office must have leaked his information.
The one capable of such a thing…
‘There are many.’
He had done his job well, which meant he had many enemies.
He had no choice but to confirm it.
Galahad stood up from his spot.
“Where are you going?”
“I've received an invitation. Shouldn't I go?”
“···An invitation? It's a trap.”
“You have a habit of stating the obvious with such a serious face.”
At Galahad's rebuke, Gilberton scowled.
“Why are you going if you know it's a trap?”
Galahad took a deep drag of his cigarette and replied.
“Because it's a trap.”
Gilberton didn't understand the short answer.
Then, Galahad added.
“The hunter is always near the trap.”
Understanding his meaning, Gilberton's eyes narrowed.
“Are you saying you'll walk into the trap yourself to catch the hunter?”
Galahad's lips curled as if to say, *Correct.*
“You're insane.”
“Your words are getting short again.”
“I will go with you.”
Gilberton said, readjusting his grip on his sword.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but you're Gilberton. They told me to come alone. If I bring you along, they'll run.”
Galahad was almost excessively rational.
Most people would shrink back or grow timid when their life was on the line, but Galahad remained as leisurely and level-headed as ever.
A strange sense of distance could be felt.
“Then you intend to go alone?”
“No, I plan to go with Damian. They'll probably let it slide since Damian looks like a boy. Damian, will you help me?”
“Yes, Hyung.”
Damian stood up, holding his sword at a crooked angle.
“Wouldn't it be better if I went?”
“It's fine. Sir Gilberton, you can stay here and catch up with old friends. You seemed to be getting along well earlier.”
Faced with Galahad's sunken eyes, Gilberton had no choice but to back down.
“I'll carry the sword.”
“He said not to give it away because it's my lover.”
“That's just Sir Gilberton's personal preference.”
At the sight of the two disappearing into the darkness, chatting quietly—
Gilberton felt an inexplicable sense of disappointment.