Chapter 8 - Special Operations Unit

'Grand Duke Bekartan...'

Information surfaced in Galahad's mind.

He had killed a wolf barehanded at five, and slain five mercenaries who attacked him at ten. At twelve, he had beaten a knight in swordsmanship. At thirteen, he had beaten his own father and all his brothers to death with his bare hands.

The man was a textbook example of a savage.

His hobbies, moreover, included killing Demons, quenching his thirst with their blood, and displaying their hides.

When Galahad first read that, he had assumed it was exaggerated. Seeing the man in person, he felt it hardly did him justice.

Galahad shifted a finger slightly. The ice crystal, sharp enough to pierce iron armor, met resistance and splintered.

'Skin thicker than iron?'

His eyes widened.

Had eating mana-laden Demon flesh and blood made him stronger? Did that mean mana could affect the body physically, too?

'Is his skin infused with mana?'

Galahad discreetly fed some mana into it, only for it to bounce back. His eyes widened.

He increased its concentration and tried again, but it was repelled once more. Oh, mana bouncing back! His heart pounded.

Then, at the darkening look in the Grand Duke's eyes, Galahad withdrew his hand.

'The daughter burns mana, and the father repels it... Could there be a more fascinating father and daughter?'

He swallowed hard.

In contrast, the only emotion in the Grand Duke's eyes was the faintest interest.

"First the crown prince came, and now a spell-slinger."

Spell-slinger. Galahad smiled wryly at the crude word.

His mind raced. They had sent the crown prince before him. Given that Galahad had been sent next, that could hardly have ended well.

In that case...

"You had a narrow escape. The crown prince is notorious for being a woman-crazed bastard. Why else would they call him a horny fucking dog?"

The words left a sour taste in his mouth, but even kings were fair game behind their backs.

"Hahaha! A horny fucking dog! An apt description!"

The Grand Duke roared with laughter, shaking the entire room.

'The crown prince came to the North...'

That was a piece of secret history even Galahad hadn't known.

The crown prince was a horny bastard with an impressive history of womanizing. He was quite capable of coming all this way after hearing rumors of Adrianna.

"He declared his love the instant he saw her."

That libertine crown prince, declaring love first? Galahad would never have believed it had he not seen Adrianna himself.

Now, though, he could imagine it.

What Mage wouldn't fall in love with her ability to burn mana?

"Said he would kiss the back of her hand. Everyone tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen..."

The Grand Duke chuckled, low and rough, like a wild beast growling.

Galahad made a quiet sound of admiration. Kissing the back of her hand! What an ingenious approach.

The crown prince had considerable talent for magic. He had even held the title of youngest academy graduate until Galahad broke his record.

If someone like him had taken Adrianna's hand... Galahad gave his still-tingling hand a little shake.

"He screamed and bawled his eyes out. Pissed himself and trembled all over. Funniest thing I ever saw. Even called her a cursed witch."

The Grand Duke laughed aloud, but Galahad felt intensely irritated.

A Mage giving up over mere pain? Ridiculous. No wonder he was still trash despite all the support the imperial family lavished on him.

Had even half of it gone to Galahad, he would have rewritten magical history by now.

"The crown prince rides a horse quite well."

Galahad narrowed his eyes at the amusement in the Grand Duke's voice.

There was no way the crown prince would normally ride a horse rather than take a carriage or a magic vehicle. If he had left on horseback...

'He killed everyone except the crown prince.'

A true savage.

It was an unmistakable act of defiance against the Empire, but the crown prince would have welcomed it. The duke had saved him the trouble of killing everyone who had witnessed his disgrace.

That was the kind of bastard the crown prince was.

"And now they've sent you."

'So the crown prince was behind this.'

The crown prince disliked Galahad for breaking the record he took the greatest pride in: being the youngest graduate.

There were doubtless other interests involved, but Galahad had a feeling the crown prince had played a substantial part.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

A bell rang loudly somewhere. The Grand Duke turned his head. In profile, he looked just like a lion. An old, sick lion that still had its teeth.

A beast that would break its teeth before hesitating to bite.

And they had presented Galahad to a man like that, asking him to marry off his eldest daughter.

The Grand Duke would never accept, and the Empire knew it.

The reason for such a move was obvious.

'Starting to covet the North now, are they?'

The Empire had driven the Demons back during the war, but suffered devastating losses. Merely recovering from them had been enough to shake the Empire.

It couldn't even contemplate finishing off the Demons who had fled north.

The shrewd Emperor had granted the title of Grand Duke to the hero who beheaded the Greater Demon and entrusted him with the North.

The North was desolate anyway, so the Emperor hadn't even collected taxes from the Grand Duke. To him, it was nothing more than a bulwark against the Demons.

Currently, the North belonged to the Empire in name only; it was effectively an independent duchy. The Empire, too, had shown no interest in it.

But recent advances in magic had changed the situation.

The North, with its front line against the Demons, had become considerably more valuable. Quite a few magic-stone deposits had, in fact, been discovered there.

Of course, the land still had more drawbacks than advantages, but interest in it was clearly growing.

Galahad was their pretext for swallowing up the North.

Could the Grand Duke be unaware of that? Not a chance.

"And how did you fare?"

The Grand Duke's voice was peculiar. The interest in his eyes was slowly fading.

Galahad realized that once that tiny spark went out, he would be finished too.

"I held her hand. It was very warm. We interlaced our fingers, too."

The spark grew a little. The Grand Duke narrowed his eyes. On closer inspection, he might have been smiling.

Galahad needed to fan the flames further.

"Give me your daughter's hand in marriage."

The Grand Duke burst out laughing.

Galahad's head rang, dizziness washing over him. For an instant, his mana twisted. Was that thing really human?

He stared at the Grand Duke through narrowed eyes. The man was closer to a Demon than a human.

Even more so than that perverted lord.

To a Mage like Galahad, he was practically a natural predator.

"You're a mad bastard."

The words were harsh, but the Grand Duke's eyes were smiling.

"Still, you're better than that imbecile."

That went without saying.

"Nothing he ever does will put him anywhere near my level."

The Grand Duke laughed even harder.

"Arrogant, just as I thought."

"People often tell me I'm humble."

The Grand Duke raised an eyebrow, and Galahad shut his mouth.

"Hmm."

The Grand Duke studied Galahad with piercing blue eyes. It felt as though a predator were licking its chops over him.

"Well, better than having you waste food in the dungeon, I suppose."

Even as he said it, the only thing in his eyes was that slight interest.

"You won't regret it."

The Grand Duke laughed as though he had heard an amusing joke.

"I've never regretted anything."

Silence fell, as though the room itself were watching his mood.

"I always killed everyone before I could."

Galahad smiled awkwardly at that exceedingly macho solution.

* * *

The Grand Duke had set two conditions. First, Galahad had to attain a standing worthy of being the partner of Adrianna, hero of the North. Second, he had to win her love.

Rise to a position worthy of Adrianna with no connections whatsoever... No, as a Mage, he was starting from worse than nothing.

It was a nearly impossible demand, but that wasn't much of a problem for Galahad.

If anything, the latter condition seemed harder.

He could stake his entire fortune on the Grand Duke tearing his head off if he failed either one.

Even granting permission seemed to be a minor diversion for the duke. A game whose outcome meant nothing to him.

Ultimately, humanity's survival now depended on Galahad's marriage.

'A kept man saving the world. Literally.'

He clicked his tongue softly.

The burden had grown far heavier, but nothing had changed.

"Oh, you survived."

Waiting outside the residence, Gilberton sounded genuinely amazed. What an obnoxious bastard.

"As if I'd die meeting my future in-laws."

"Hmm. What did you discuss?"

Galahad put a cigarette between his lips before answering.

"What else would I discuss with my father-in-law? The wedding. He was rather stingy with the dowry."

"... Dowry? His Grace actually approved the marriage?"

"That's only a matter of time."

Galahad answered absently, sorting through his tangled thoughts.

The burden was considerably heavier, but nothing changed.

"Where do you serve? As a coachman? A guard?"

"... Coachman, my ass. I belong to the First Battalion, made up of the North's finest elites."

Gilberton gave an incredulous laugh.

"I knew that, actually. Gilberton of the First Battalion. A master of the sword, I hear?"

Questions surfaced in Gilberton's eyes. He looked vaguely uneasy. Quick on the uptake. Galahad grinned.

"Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

"Oh, you've just been specially recruited into Special Operations. No need to thank me. Not after all we've been through."

"... Special Operations? We have a unit like that?"

"I just established it. Fine name, isn't it? The Special Operations Unit. Special Operations for short."

"What special operations..."

"Shh. That's classified. In any event, you belong to Special Operations as of today."

"No. Why would I transfer there?"

"You're not going to transfer. You've already been transferred. You still don't understand. The Grand Duke handled it personally. You might call it a dowry. Now, where did I put it..."

Galahad pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. It bore the Grand Duke's crest, with PERSONNEL REASSIGNMENT ORDER written in large letters across the top. The subject was Gilberton.

Gilberton hastily snatched it and examined every inch. He seemed to be searching for a flaw, but unfortunately, it was genuine.

Galahad grinned at his thoroughly contorted expression.

"... It's real?"

For the first time, Gilberton dropped his polite tone. A jumble of emotions filled his face.

"I only ever tell the truth."

"But why would His Grace transfer me..."

"Think of it as a dowry. In recognition of our bond, I'll make a special exception and appoint you deputy commander. There's no need for thanks between us."

Gilberton's gaze wandered for a moment. He looked back and forth between the document and Galahad, then squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

"It's not a dream."

"Damn it. And deputy commander? Do you even have any members?"

"We'll have to find them now."

"Fuck."

"Your swearing is refreshingly straightforward."

By the time Galahad finished his cigarette, Gilberton had regained his composure. He was calmer than Galahad had expected.

"So, do you have anyone in mind?"

"Of course. One is certain, at least. You'll find the other three."

"You mean you only have one?"

"Think positively. We already have one."

Gilberton's brow furrowed at the answer. Galahad grinned.

"I'm thinking of taking about five people. Make a list of candidates for the other three. Focus on ability. Character doesn't matter. I believe people are inherently evil."

Gilberton opened his mouth to say something, then checked the document in his hand again. Veins stood out on his hand.

"That document bears the crest of His Great Grace the Grand Duke. Tear it up and you'll be executed."

Gilberton nodded weakly.

"He said to recruit from the standby troops."

"... Why did he add that condition? Don't tell me you asked for Lady Adrianna?"

"He said no to that."

Gilberton pressed hard at his temples.

"Anyway, I'm counting on you, Deputy Commander."

Galahad laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder. Gilberton gritted his teeth.

As he mentally searched for suitable recruits, a question suddenly occurred to him.

Galahad had been confined ever since arriving in the North.

And yet he already had his eye on someone?

Who on earth could it be?

* * *

"Now, Gwen. As of today, you belong to Special Operations. You're moving up in the world! Congratulations!"

"... What?"

Gwen, who had been cleaning, opened her eyes so wide they looked ready to split. The broom in her hand wavered aimlessly.

Slow on the uptake. Galahad clicked his tongue and continued.

"Starting today, you're a soldier in the Special Operations Unit. We're heading to the front, so hurry and pack. The Demons are calling us!"

Despite his kind explanation, Gwen's eyes rolled about as though she still didn't understand.

Galahad sipped the astringent tea she had made and gave her a moment. After about two sips, she shouted.

"Why am I a soldier?! I'm a maid! A maid who cleans and does laundry!"

"And you're bloody awful at both, aren't you? The dust stays put even after you wipe it. You break three plates every day. I honestly wonder how you haven't been fired. Do you have some powerful patron?"

"... I only broke two yesterday!"

"A tremendous improvement. Congratulations. Anyway, you're a soldier now. Hurry and pack."

"No! I'm a maid! A maid! Not a soldier!"

At Gwen's vehement refusal, Galahad realized he had left out something important.

"Special Operations pays ten times your current salary. That's the base pay; it goes up with results. Didn't you say you were short of money to care for the orphans?"

"... Ten times!!"

Gwen unfolded her fingers one by one, drooling freely.

"... Then I could bring Dent over, and afford to marry Bianca off! All the children and I could sleep in beds! I'll do it!"

"Good. A wise decision. Go pack."

Still brimming with excitement, Gwen covered her chest with both hands and narrowed her eyes.

"... I'm not learning magic! I won't sell my soul!"

"I have my pride, too. I'll only teach you magic if you get on your knees and beg me. Do you know how expensive my lessons are?"

"... Expensive?"

Gwen's round eyes shifted. The word seemed to have caught her attention. How could anyone be so mercenary? Galahad clicked his tongue softly.

"... Anyway! Absolutely no magic!"

"Yes, yes. Your assignment is to be my secretary. You can do exactly what you're doing now."

"... Really?"

"Of course. Has everyone you've ever met lied to you?"

"Why me? I'm bloody awful at my job, aren't I? You're always scolding me!"

"So you knew."

"Of course! Even the head maid gave up on me!"

Galahad clicked his tongue at that remarkably unabashed confession.

"If you don't want to, forget it. I'll find someone else. I could grab anyone off the street and they'd do a better job than you."

"N-no! Just give the word! I'll do anything!"

Gwen instantly dropped to her knees and clutched his trouser leg. The motion was so natural that she clearly had plenty of practice begging.

Clinging to his leg and blinking up at him, she looked just like a puppy begging for treats.

'Got her.'

He intended to take Gwen along and show her all the wonders of magic. Its greatness would gradually sink in until, in the end, she begged him to teach her. Galahad was certain of it.

All he needed to do was keep her with him.

"Good. Hurry and pack."

"Wh-what about you, Lord Galahad?"

Galahad shook the bag he had brought. He hadn't unpacked a single thing. An occupational habit.

Seeing it, Gwen said she understood and hurried busily about. Galahad sipped his tea again.

'She's bloody awful at making tea, too.'

All it took was adding leaves and pouring in hot water. Making it taste this bad was a talent in itself.

Just as he finished the tea, Gwen called out.

"All packed!"

Galahad groaned at the sight of her.

Gwen held a cleaning rag in one hand and a broom in the other, as though they were weapons.

A broom and a rag, to go to the front against the Demons. Clicking his tongue softly, Galahad waved a hand.

"You're short, so hold the broom a little higher. Otherwise you won't reach a Demon's throat."

"... Whaaat?!"

Gwen let out a long shriek and raised the broom higher, tears streaming down her face.

"One! Two! One!"

"O-one! Twooo!"

Returning with his completed list, Gilberton found Galahad swinging brooms with the maid and closed the door again.

"Damn it."

His quiet curse scattered on the biting wind.