Chapter 5
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Maid
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‘So this is the Northern Wall.’
Galahad was genuinely impressed by the white wall that stretched endlessly, as if dividing the world.
“My friend told me to be sure to see the Northern Wall if I ever came to the North. It really is incredible.”
“......You speak of the Northern Wall as if it were some famous landmark.”
“That's just how incredible it is.”
“It is humanity's last line of defense against the Demon Race, after all.”
Gilberton's eyes narrowed. Galahad chuckled at the shameless reply.
“The crossbows are pointed this way, aren't they?”
“Just in case.”
Gilberton gave a dark smile.
“Right, just in case.”
Just then, the bearded man took out a giant horn. After loudly wiping his mouth with a smacking sound, he blew the horn.
Bwoooooo-!
The sound of the horn echoed thunderously, as if to awaken the world.
Silver figures appeared atop the wall. They were too far to see clearly, but the silver suggested they were soldiers. All clad in steel—. Galahad was amazed.
One by one, soldiers climbed up, filling the top of the wall.
Bwoooooo-!
As the horn sounded again, the center of the white wall split open with a heavy sound.
Thickly packed snow fell away, revealing a massive iron portcullis. With a grinding creak, the portcullis slowly rose, and snow flurried violently.
Large clumps of snow fell, as if an avalanche were occurring.
Galahad narrowed his eyes and watched.
Thump! A drumbeat sounded from afar. The soldiers raised their spears in unison. It was a perfectly synchronized dance—not with swords, but with spears. The sharp spearheads glinted in the sunlight. The raised spears struck the ground. A heavy sound spread as if an earthquake had struck. The snow swirled violently.
Grrrind—. The portcullis finally reached the top. Thump! The drumbeat echoed again, and the spears struck down—.
‘It's like a well-made musical.’
Galahad was genuinely impressed. It was a magnificent display of power, but honestly, he couldn't see it clearly because of the blizzard.
Bwoooooo-! The horn and drum sounded again. The spears struck down in time with them—.
“Did they practice this for me?”
“......It's just a coincidence of timing.”
Seeing Gilberton's awkward cough, it seemed Galahad was right.
“How very touching.”
“...This is standard procedure.”
THUMP!!!
Just then, the gate opened completely. The scene inside was similar to other cities at first glance, but also completely different.
The people wore thick furs, making them look like animals from a distance, and each carried something like a harpoon or a crossbow on their back.
Furthermore, all the goods being moved about looked like war supplies.
‘They're preparing for war.’
Just then, the bearded man pointed his horn at Galahad and shouted.
“The mage from the Empire has arrived!!”
Galahad clicked his tongue softly at the barrage of sharp glares and boos.
He waved in response to the boisterous introduction, but there were no cheers. In fact, the jeers grew louder.
It was a complete reversal of the admiring gazes he received in the capital for being a mage; these eyes were filled with hostility.
The bearded man grinned in satisfaction. It was a childish bit of sabotage.
‘They say Northerners are such manly men, but I guess that's not always the case.’
Galahad clicked his tongue and called out to the bearded fellow. The man grinned slyly.
“Next time, introduce me as a *competent* mage. Just 'mage' feels a bit lacking, don't you think?”
The bearded man's smile vanished. His expression screamed, 'What kind of guy is this?'
“Or 'outstanding mage' would also be fine. It's a bit awkward to say myself, but my track record is quite good.”
The bearded man shouted something unintelligible and then stomped away.
“What did that man just say?”
“'That damned scum, a byproduct of the Demon Race, dares to act so cocky. He's ugly as sin, too—.' Why are you provoking him?”
“I was just speaking the truth. How is that a provocation? But did he really say I'm ugly as sin?”
Gilberton subtly turned his head away. So he hadn't. Galahad grimaced at the petty jealousy.
‘Finally arrived.’
Galahad muttered, looking at the inner castle visible in the distance.
I crossed the continent in a carriage.
Pretty romantic, isn't it?
Of course, beneath it all lies a dirty political struggle—.
‘Now I'll finally get to see my famous wife.’
***
He could not.
After passing through the castle gate, Galahad arrived at a large annex. He was placed in the largest room within it.
Gilberton warned him several times not to leave under any circumstances until he was contacted, and then disappeared.
And in front of the door stood menacing-looking men. They didn't speak the Imperial language, so communication was impossible.
They simply blocked the door, preventing Galahad from leaving. When he tried to slip out, they even brandished a sharp, gleaming axe at him.
‘I'm trapped.’
To be locked up in an annex right after crossing half the continent—. It was absurd, but it was one of the possibilities Galahad had considered. The worst-case scenario, in fact.
‘Are they planning to let me waste away?’
The room was large and desolate. It contained only the bare necessities, like a bed. The one peculiar thing was—.
‘Why is there a chandelier? Are they expecting me to host a banquet?’
He wondered, looking at the ornate chandelier on the ceiling that clashed completely with the desolate room. Some truly malicious person must have decorated this place.
Galahad sat in a chair and organized his thoughts.
Would they contact him? Galahad shook his head slightly.
Galahad's family was influential in the central region, but not enough to extend its reach to the North.
Moreover, Galahad was the third son, not the firstborn. A completely useless status in the North.
He did have the title of a genius mage, but in the North, which ostracized magic, that was actually a disadvantage.
In other words, to the Grand Duke, Galahad had no merits.
In contrast, the Grand Duke's eldest daughter, Adrianna, was a hero of the North. As the youngest Sword Master, she was constantly achieving great feats on the battlefield.
The Grand Duke might want to keep Adrianna in check, but the possibility was exceedingly low. His love for her was famous, after all.
Galahad put himself in the Grand Duke's shoes and assessed the situation.
He didn't know what kind of power struggle had occurred, but the Grand Duke had been unable to refuse the marriage to the Count's third son.
‘Of course he wouldn't be pleased.’
Sending a single slit-eyed man to act as an escort, guide, and coachman was proof of that. If this were a welcome marriage, they wouldn't have sent just one person.
The North was in decline, while its enemy, the Demon Race, remained strong. In this situation, if relations with the Empire soured, the barren North would be finished. That's why they had let Galahad into the castle for now.
‘But they have no real intention of letting the marriage happen.’
They would lock him in a room and use various excuses to postpone the wedding. They'd stall for time, and if a way to call off the marriage presented itself...
‘They'll discard me.’
Galahad swallowed dryly.
They would be satisfied with that. After all, the Empire had nothing to gain from marrying the Grand Duke's eldest daughter to Galahad in the first place.
They would want to just save face with each other.
Then the one who loses out is—.
‘Me.’
It was a mystery why he had been chosen in the first place. Galahad swallowed dryly.
Knock, knock. Someone knocked on the door. When it opened, a black-haired beauty in a maid's uniform was looking up at him, her face filled with fear.
“I... I am Gwen, assigned to attend to Lord Galahad!”
The woman who introduced herself as Gwen muttered in a barely audible voice. She had large eyes and the look of a rain-soaked puppy.
She was clearly a beauty, but she had a gloomy aura, as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
Galahad frowned at Gwen's thoroughly intimidated demeanor.
“I don't need an attendant.”
“B-But I have to empty the chamber pot and serve your meals and...”
“Aha, so they meant I'm not to take a single step outside.”
At Galahad's words, the woman's head seemed to creak as she flinched and shrank back.
Behind Gwen, armed men were visible. All of them had their weapons drawn.
They're dedicated to their work. He waved a greeting, but the response was cold.
‘Do people here not wave hello?’
The door slammed shut.
Gwen shrieked and fell flat on her face. How on earth does one manage to fall so spectacularly? Galahad, feeling a sense of wonder, helped her up.
“Th-Thank you.”
As Galahad helped Gwen up, he infused a bit of mana into her to check her. It was a kind of occupational hazard.
‘She has a lot of mana.’
Of course, most people possessed some amount of mana even if they weren't mages. However, Gwen's mana was far too abundant to be dismissed as such.
“Are you a mage?”
Galahad's eyes narrowed. Assigning a mage as a maid to him had a clear intention—.
Gwen's face instantly crumpled. She reacted as if he had just insulted her parents.
“......Nooo. I'm not a mage.”
Gwen replied, her voice thick with tears.
“You're saying you're not a mage?”
“......I'm absolutely not a mage... not one of those cursed filth of the Demon Race. I don't know anything! Really! Please believe me!”
As Gwen suddenly clung to his leg, sobbing, Galahad, the 'cursed filth of the Demon Race,' scratched his chin.
He'd heard that the perception of mages in the North was poor, but was it this bad? This was almost like the reactions from the old witch-hunting days.
Galahad, who had been cheerfully announced as a mage at the main gate, scratched his cheek. This was going to be tiring. He might even become the victim of a hate crime. This was why being a mage was so exhausting.
Anyway, with a reaction like that, she really might not be a mage. In that case, her mana capacity was purely natural talent—.
Just then, perhaps misinterpreting Galahad's gaze as he assessed her mana capacity, Gwen started to take off her clothes. Galahad hastily stopped her. He couldn't become the guy who stripped his maid on the first day.
“Alright, you're not a mage.”
Gwen thanked him for believing her and burst into tears again. She was a woman with a great many tears.
‘Then was her mana capacity formed because of the ambient mana density?’
In any case, Gwen wasn't what was important right now.
‘They really plan to keep me locked up.’
They even assigned a maid. It was a clear message for him not to leave at all.
Hmph. Galahad sat back down in the chair and hummed thoughtfully. There was nothing he could do right now.
Getting angry or frustrated in a situation like this wouldn't help.
It was a given that he would have to stay in this room for a few days. He had to find something he could do.
‘The mana density is high.’
The first thing that came to mind was the mana density he had just felt.
Perhaps because it was adjacent to the Demon Race's territory, the mana density here was much higher than in the central region.
He slowly circulated his mana. It felt heavy.
No mage recorded the exact values of mana.
Mana standards differed from person to person, and the atmospheric mana density constantly changed, making precise recording impossible. Thus, to prevent waste, most mages favored magic circles and mana stones.
Because of this, mages here were more like engineers. That path offered better treatment, so there was no reason to jump into the muddy waters of pure magic.
As a result, while there were more mages than before, true mages were actually a rarity in this era.
Galahad's solution to the mana density problem was simple.
Korean-style rote learning: shut up and memorize.
It was the method he had cursed and detested most in high school, but nothing was more practical.
He practiced the most basic spell, Mana Arrow, countless times. He honed his senses until he could cast it without thinking.
He defined the amount of mana based on a single Mana Arrow. Thanks to this, Galahad could calculate the ambient density anywhere by simply casting one Mana Arrow as a baseline.
That was when he was six years old.
‘About twice as much.’
Galahad muttered, looking at the mana arrow that had formed in his hand.
A mana density twice as high as the central region—. It was an unbelievable figure.
High mana density was both an advantage and a disadvantage.
Magic originally worked by using one's own mana to bind and utilize the mana in the atmosphere. If the atmospheric density was too high, one's own mana could actually leak out when casting a spell.
To prevent this, one had to maintain an even higher internal mana density, a process which required compression. Mana was also sensitive; if compressed too much, it would solidify.
This made the already complex process of spellcasting several times more difficult.
In short, it was an absurdly grueling task.
On the other hand, thanks to the high density, the power of spells would increase significantly—.
‘Excellent.’
Galahad smiled genuinely.
It was a truly brutish method, but at the same time, it was effective training.
If he could maintain this high mana density, he would be able to raise his own internal mana density even further. In addition, his mana sensitivity would also greatly improve—.
‘It's been a while since I've trained like this.’
Galahad deliberately maintained his mana density at a precarious level. The slightest mistake could severely damage his mana circuits.
Thanks to that, his tension was razor-sharp.
Galahad's mind gradually settled.
As he cast his magic, all other thoughts vanished.
Galahad was a true mage.
***
‘...He's smiling in a situation like this?’
Gwen's eyes widened at the sight of the shimmering Galahad.
Galahad was in a state no different from being imprisoned.
To be smiling while locked away in a foreign land, unable to even see the woman who was to be his wife—.
Galahad wore a faint smile. The emotion etched on his face was a kind of ecstasy bordering on madness.
It was the brightest expression Gwen had ever seen on him. What on earth was he doing that could bring him such joy?
Her gaze naturally shifted to Galahad's hand. A light flickered around it.
It was clearly magic. Gwen couldn't tear her eyes away from its splendor.
Magic is the filthy, cursed refuse of the Demon Race—. These were the words Gwen, born of a mage's bloodline, had heard until her ears bled.
Being scorned as the child of a filthy mage was a common occurrence, and she had even faced death threats numerous times.
The only reason Gwen was able to work as even a maid was thanks to Adrianna.
For that reason, Gwen despised magic more than anyone.
She was certain she did, and she was supposed to—.
‘It's beautiful.’
The crystal forming in Galahad's hand was so beautiful.
So beautiful it made her eyes sting and tear up—.
She couldn't look away. Its brilliance and beauty could almost be compared to Adrianna's own.
She wondered why that man was making such an expression.
Unconsciously, Gwen moved her fingers.
A small light flickered at Gwen's fingertips before disappearing. Even she could feel how pathetic it was, but it brought a thrill and a sense of liberation she had never experienced in her life.
For the first time in a very long while, Gwen laughed out loud. No, perhaps it was the first time ever—.
Just then, the broom Gwen was holding fell over with a loud clatter.
Snapping back to her senses, Gwen felt an intense self-loathing.
Magic was what had plunged her into a lifetime of suffering. To think she had cast with her own hands the very magic that had tormented her because of her filthy bloodline—.
Gwen dug her fingernails into her forearm so deeply that she drew blood. Her mind, which she had barely regained control of, was drawn to the magic again. Gwen desperately closed her eyes and started scrubbing the floor.
Crash—.
Unsurprisingly, a dish broke.
***
Galahad wondered if what he had just seen was real.
She cast a spell just by watching—?
‘......A true genius.’
Galahad was genuinely impressed.
Was her name Gwen? He thought it might be—.
‘I want her.’
Seeing Galahad looking at her and licking his lips, Gwen squeezed her eyes shut.