How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 330

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magic Family (330)

 

What is it that I’m seeing right now?

 

Along with Ascanien’s incantation, my senses dulled with drowsiness. At the same time, my optic nerves were struck by a flash. A shock like someone hitting my head and passing by swept through my entire body like lightning. There was light. Light. Without any color, the kind that makes all things white with pure luminosity and blinds the eyes…

 

“…!”

 

Mecklenburg gasped convulsively and staggered backward.

 

Kuwoong—

 

—Stretch out your hand.

 

Mecklenburg covered his front against the rushing gale. Pure white light scattered into fragments. As if time alone did not flow here, that light slowly crossed through the air. If there were a sun that had descended to the ground, it would be like this. The Lord God said, I am the Alpha and the Omega, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty… That admirable light that ordinary clergy would casually utter alongside solemn recitations was now beginning to fade in his mind. As that old light was forgotten, the pain that had permeated every corner of his body was washed away.

 

—In your holy name, grant healing, signs, and miracles.

 

“…”

 

He couldn’t believe it. His mind, trying to maintain homeostasis, briefly suspected it was an illusion, but the magical effect of the light was functioning completely, and by functioning, it revealed that what should have accompanied that signifier was reality. For those who treat magic as routine, spells often contain nothing. They are merely empty throat sounds that should have contained something but don’t. In the post-magic era, mages became representatives of Jehovah, and arcane mages who use divine power come even closer to that essence. He could declare that Jehovah’s influence remains in this troubled world. All signifiers gain power from him. It’s not meaningless words recited as learned that give power to his magic. He was breathing power into words for God in an age when everything had become meaningless. That this magic was possible meant exactly that.

 

“You right now…”

 

“…”

 

How?

 

Without being a cleric, while bearing the stigma of being Pleroma, how? It was ironic that he, who had been at the bottom of the bottom until just last year, a human who seemed furthest from anything sacred, could wield such power. No, if he could use something like this in the first place, why didn’t he reveal it? Is this actually the first time he’s using it here? That can’t be. Why didn’t he reveal it? Why on earth? With just this, that rumor about being Pleroma…!

 

Ascanien’s head turned toward Mecklenburg. Looking at those emotionless, inhuman red eyes, an incoherent mass of thoughts flashed through Mecklenburg’s mind like lightning.

 

Overwhelming divine power, concealment, unknown identity, change, 1897.

 

Ascanien could use divine power but had never revealed it until now. And the Empire was blessed with fortune—an unknown foreign hero with unmatched divine power appeared. In the fall of 1897. Ascanien began gradually resembling his ancestor starting from the winter of 1897. Ascanien displayed rare boldness, saving over a million lives at a terrorist scene.

 

“…”

 

No sound came out, as if someone had put stones in his throat. When Penthalon happened, no matter how much we searched, we couldn’t find our Lord Nicolaus Ernst who might have come to save us, but now it would be better to rely on the Penthalon hero who is here with us. At those sharply spat words, Ascanien’s usually brazen expression rarely showed fatigue, his gaze turning to the floor with a sigh…

 

“…You, by any chance.”

 

His throat choked at the impossible possibility. Ascanien said nothing. He simply waited. Only Mecklenburg’s trembling voice echoed off the limestone dome and glass.

 

“Are you that arcane mage who was in Bavaria…”

 

No way. No way. That can’t be. Even if something might change now, it seemed better not to know. Mecklenburg decided not to be hasty. Instead, he squeezed out sounds that wouldn’t come, his tongue stiff as stone, stumbling over pronunciation twice as he let out a question barely above a whisper.

 

“Why didn’t you reveal that you could use divine power…”

 

“Senior doesn’t think highly of Nicolaus Ernst, so what more should I tell you? You’d just hate me more.”

 

“…”

 

A calm confession that deliberately shifted the focus of the answer while knowing the intent echoed. Mecklenburg’s mouth fell open. It was irresistible. There was no escape route now. The sound of heels clicking. Ascanien took a step closer. Pink eyes that couldn’t come from a human drew near.

 

So, so right now…!

 

Ascanien’s composure no longer bothered him. The bright blue eyes of an Esper that had been embedded in occasionally color-printed newspapers, those indifferent and cold eyes that Daslotte had broadcast in close-up, overlapped in his vision. Why hadn’t he noticed when the light they contained was so similar? As he could only stare at him with a dazed expression, unable to say anything, Ascanien seemed to understand that more explanation was needed and smiled faintly while tapping his staff with his fingers.

 

“I came to rescue you.”

 

Mecklenburg shook his head and stepped back from Ascanien. He didn’t even know how he was still standing.

 

Nicolaus is this Pleroma Ascanien. No one on the continent would know. This was absurd. Nicolaus Ernst, who was called Bavaria’s next prime minister and might even become the Empire’s prime minister according to rumors, whose age could be twenty or seventy for all anyone knew, no, Nicolaus, I had been… to Nicolaus all this time… To the pillar of the Kingdom of Bavaria and a politician the continent was watching, I had advised, lectured, and punished him like a peer. After learning the situation, his face became hot as if it would burst. What on earth did he think of me? Now he began to understand the composure and brazenness that had been on that indifferent expression. Ascanien had been going easy on Mecklenburg. Why? Because he didn’t even feel such a small fry was worth dealing with seriously! Far from finding it annoying, he had probably been enjoying watching all of Mecklenburg’s words and actions. Now the puzzle fit together. The tediously repeated “Senior,” the words of respect—he knew all of that was fake, but this fact was even more shocking. He had thoroughly toyed with Mecklenburg to defeat the opponent beneath his feet while standing at the very top. He knew how to handle hearts. He didn’t want to show this to anyone, and feeling like his bottom, which he had never faced even himself, had been completely exposed, he could no longer stand before him. Eventually, caught by the hand of a sleeping Pleroma, Mecklenburg collapsed onto the pile of Pleroma. His legs gave out, leaving him no choice. Ascanien sighed briefly, narrowed his eyes, and said something else.

 

“Please think about the person you’re crushing.”

 

“Right now, right now that’s… You’re Nicolaus but you don’t think anything…!”

 

“I said I came to rescue you, but actually I’m trapped here too. Still, I’ll make sure you get out alive.”

 

Ascanien was trying to lighten the mood by shrugging his shoulders even in this situation. It couldn’t be lightened. Ascanien’s hand suddenly appeared before his eyes.

 

“Even though I’m purifying the air.”

 

Ascanien wiggled his fingers as if telling him to take his hand. Mecklenburg stared at him blankly. Understanding such confusion, Ascanien exhaled lightly and knelt on one knee in front of Mecklenburg.

 

“This isn’t something I can do infinitely. There’s the question of how much gets purified depending on the nature of the chemicals, but fundamentally air keeps flowing in from somewhere. Even if I clean it again and again, it repeats endlessly. In the long term, it’s proper to consider it useless. So…”

 

Ascanien pressed his hand against Mecklenburg’s forehead.

 

“Conserve your strength.”

 

“…”

 

Divine power seeped into his forehead. Even experiencing it again, the divine power was undoubtedly perfect beyond dispute. It was like another life. It was like air and like a fire that purified everything. The pain that had been scratching his stomach and hitting his head was cleanly swept away. The words “you conserve yours too” circled in his throat if he had to conserve, but such kind words didn’t come out to Ascanien.

 

“Why do you hide being Nicolaus?”

 

Ascanien looked down at Mecklenburg with emotionless eyes. Mecklenburg shook his head in confusion and asked in a voice drained of strength.

 

“Why are you Nicolaus in the first place?”

 

“What’s important right now isn’t Nicolaus. Seeing that this isn’t a cathedral, this probably isn’t the Antagonists’ main base.”

 

Ascanien looked around and said quietly.

 

“There’s no bishop-level clergy either…”

 

Before he could grab onto anything, Ascanien kicked one of the Pleroma wearing priest robes. He grabbed the man’s collar, lifted him up, and breathed divine power into him. The Pleroma convulsed and bolted upright.

 

“Heeeeer!”

 

—Enter through the narrow gate.

 

“Kuk…”

 

“You’re very sleepy. You’re probably drowsy.”

 

Ascanien was shamelessly giving orders while smiling. Mental manipulation magic. It wasn’t magic he should be using after just telling him to conserve strength. He didn’t know if Ascanien could use mental manipulation magic very freely, but it was clear that it required less energy compared to other arcane mages.

 

The Pleroma’s eyes were already gone, but some sanity remained, as he tilted his head meaning absolutely not. Ascanien seemed to have deliberately left his sanity intact.

 

“That, that’s…”

 

“You haven’t slept for almost 72 hours. Your heart is beating slowly then fast, making quite a fuss, isn’t it? I know very well that you want to sleep right now.”

 

Then that Pleroma turned pale and nodded with vacant eyes. The speed at which his eyes opened slowed. At that moment, Ascanien firmly grabbed his nape.

 

“…Agh!”

 

“But you can’t sleep. Answer me and I’ll let you sleep. Where is this? It’s a nice place.”

 

“Br…”

 

Ascanien nodded patiently.

 

“Brandenburg Diocese… Hall of…”

 

“Peace?”

 

“Hall of Peace.”

 

“How shameless. What do you do here?”

 

“People like us gather here to discuss… But why?”

 

“By people like us, you mean priests, I suppose. Or believers too?”

 

“Just priests.”

 

“Oh, thank you. But did someone attack, or did you all collapse after breathing the air here? Shouldn’t we immediately control the air here again? I think the chemicals were changed.”

 

“What?!”

 

The Pleroma stiffened and opened his eyes wide. The Pleroma looked like he was about to cry and began babbling incoherently. It was such a sudden change that Mecklenburg was slightly startled.

 

“No, no… What are you saying? Don’t tell me all these people here are dead? Am I, am I going to die too?”

 

“No… Instead of crying, why don’t you go fix the air? What changes if you cry?”

 

“What are you talking about! I don’t know that stuff. That’s not something I can do at my level.”

 

They wouldn’t allow priests much authority. Such important things would only be known by bishop-level clergy, and depending on how they divided the work, there might be bishops who don’t know either. Ascanien didn’t seem to expect much either, as he nodded and continued.

 

“That’s unfortunate. And there’s something else I want to ask…”

 

Ascanien readjusted his grip on the man’s nape. Death throes burst from the Pleroma’s mouth. He writhed in pain.

 

“Why did you capture us?”

 

“I, I don’t know either…”

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

“…Your eye color… Ascanien? The younger one.”

 

“You know well. Let me ask again. Why were we brought here as prisoners?”

 

“I don’t know either. You, you came to attack us. Right? Getting all confident after Penthalon, you came to…!”

 

Ascanien pressed the man’s forehead with two fingers. The Pleroma closed his eyes and collapsed to the floor. Since Mecklenburg was just standing there with his mouth open, Ascanien glanced at him and said as if making an excuse.

 

“As expected, it’s not omnipotent. There are limits to gathering information here.”

 

“It is omnipotent though.”

 

At least for you.

 

I know that divine power isn’t omnipotent for others. It’s something that arcane mages, who are easily misunderstood by others, always say. Normally, even one or two mental manipulation spells require several hours of rest, so it absolutely cannot be omnipotent. Moreover, defensive psychology often interferes with casting. But at least Ascanien could do as he pleased unless he encountered bishop-level clergy.

 

‘…Ah, wait.’

 

Mecklenburg was looking at the light remaining in the air when he belatedly realized he had blurted out that answer aloud and snapped to attention. Ascanien’s eyes widened and he burst into laughter. Mecklenburg belatedly touched his lips and frowned. Ascanien quickly lost interest in him and looked around.

 

“Let’s try going out once. If news spreads that an arcane mage has entered here, sleep magic won’t work as well anymore, so I’ll use divine power minimally. Before that…”

 

Mecklenburg grabbed Ascanien’s arm as he was about to turn around and opened and closed his mouth.

 

“…”

 

“What.”

 

“We need to kill these Pleroma before we go. All of them.”

 

Ascanien slowly nodded with an expression that said he expected as much from him.

 

“Fine. If you have the strength left to do that, go ahead.”

 

Only then did Mecklenburg bite his lip slightly. ‘No matter how much you clean and clean again, it repeats endlessly. It’s right to see it as useless in the long term. So conserve your strength.’ He had forgotten what Ascanien had said just a few minutes ago. We were in a situation where it was difficult to even get out alive. If he wanted to have the opportunity to fully unleash his unique ability, he shouldn’t manipulate the blood of the people here right now.

 

‘Damn it…’

 

Mecklenburg looked down at his waist. The revolver cartridge only had six rounds for one deployment. He wanted to shoot them all dead, but he couldn’t. The vitriol that comes out after death would also be difficult to handle under these air conditions. Ascanien looked at Mecklenburg and said.

 

“After we finish, let’s come back here if possible.”

 

“…”

 

Mecklenburg nodded. He clearly knew what Ascanien was talking about.

 

Unexpectedly, Ascanien didn’t go out right away but lowered his head. Ascanien gauged the height of the priest I had been interrogating earlier, then suddenly stripped off the robe he was wearing and unbuttoned his cassock.

 

“…?! What are you doing…!”

 

“I’ve heard this kind of reaction before, and people’s responses seem to be generally similar.”

 

Ascanien boldly began stealing someone else’s clothes. He courteously covered the Pleroma with his own robe and made the sign of the cross. Now came the recitation of psalms that even sounded sacred.

 

“…The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.”

 

This was a verse that had to be memorized when putting on priestly vestments. To follow the procedure even while stealing and wearing someone else’s priestly robes – should this be called devout…? His skill in putting on the cassock was excessively proficient, so even while Mecklenburg was at a loss for words at Nicolaus’s reckless behavior, he seriously wondered if he might have been a clergyman.

 

‘…No way.’

 

That couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be. Meanwhile, Ascanien adjusted his attire and turned around to say.

 

“The length fits, but ordinary priest clothes don’t look stylish. Not that it’s important.”

 

“…!”

 

In that instant, Ascanien’s hair had changed to an ash-blonde color. His eyes had also changed to a color that reminded one of someone. Although his hair color was somewhat darker, seeing those blue eyes without a mask made it feel like Adrian Ascanien was standing before him, taking his breath away. Reading that expression, a hollow laugh crossed Ascanien’s face.

 

“Do you have a lot of time? Hurry up and change your clothes too, Senior.”

 

“…”

 

At the suggestion that he should also steal, Mecklenburg felt everything go dark, Adrian or whatever. However, there was no choice. Honestly, he didn’t even know why he had to go this far, but he was doing it because Nicolaus told him to.

 

After they had both changed clothes and he stood there with a rotten expression, Ascanien struck his staff down once more to cast mind manipulation magic on the Pleroma on the floor here, then strode out. Mecklenburg drew his wand for defensive posture and asked.

 

“What did you just do?”

 

“I changed their memories. Ah.”

 

Ascanien now clapped his hands as if something had occurred to him and turned around. Then he pushed against Mecklenburg’s chest. No, he didn’t push… Mecklenburg felt his composure disappear at the hand that suddenly pressed against his heart area, wondering where personal space had gone. The moment he was about to get angry, intense pain struck.

 

“Ugh!”

 

—I can do all things through him who gives me strength.

 

Mecklenburg grimaced and bent over deeply. He felt pain as if a foreign object had been lodged near his heart. Ascanien’s divine power, or was it magic, that didn’t matter. Ascanien’s magic stirred around his core and then settled lightly on top of it. On his core, of all places. No matter how much he tried to push it away, it didn’t even think of falling off. Mecklenburg trembled, desperately denying that what he was feeling must be an illusion.

 

“Wh-what is this…”

 

“Just in case you get attacked and separated. I’ve wanted to cast this since the exam, so I’m relieved to finally do it.”

 

“No, no! What kind of magic is this on my core…!”

 

“Subjugation magic.”

 

Mecklenburg’s mouth fell wide open. After Ascanien said it so nonchalantly, he seemed to belatedly realize this might sound bad from a human rights perspective, as he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. Then he calmly showed the most proper smile of anyone.

 

“…”

 

No amount of smiling could put spilled water back in the cup.

 

Mecklenburg felt his mind becoming confused and unconsciously dropped the wand in his hand. He couldn’t stay sane after receiving so many shocks in such a short time.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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