How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 519

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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 Noble Family (519)

“Why?”

I asked Leo, who was standing there with a greatly shocked expression. Since he didn’t answer, I asked again.

“Why is your expression like that?”

“You suggested the monocle yourself. You said the pince-nez was inconvenient because you had to keep taking it off and putting it back on to check the shape of objects…”

“Right.”

I did suggest it. But why bring that up suddenly? Who doesn’t know I chose the monocle? I thought back to see if there was something I’d missed and asked.

“What did you just say?”

Then Leo shrugged and said, “That there’s no way out. We need to find one. And I’m asking…” He turned his head this way and that with a puzzled expression. “Where is this place? Am I in the place I knew? I definitely came alone, but you’re here too, Count.” Before he even finished speaking, my face gradually contorted.

Ah.

As soon as I realized the situation, my hands moved first. Before my memory ‘disappeared’—was I certain?—I searched my pockets. The rough texture of cotton fabric lingered on my fingertips as they grasped at empty air. Quickly. I repeated the same word like a mantra as I emptied every pocket. A metallic object with a clip caught in the inside of my jacket. The fountain pen that was never there when needed but always there when not needed was in my hand. It was a prop for acting. I thought I could use it when employing ‘insurance.’

I held it and tilted my head, muttering.

“There’s a pen.”

“Why did you take it out?”

“Who knows… Run quickly. We’re getting close to return time, so we need to hurry!”

I grabbed Leo’s arm and ran. When we reached the end of the path, I turned around.

“Path 5 doesn’t have a lever either. Let’s go back and try path 6.”

Leo nodded and ran. I looked around at the plaza scenery and thought. If not all dioceses and spatial magic were connected radially, there must be an exit somewhere. A lever. But there’s also the possibility there isn’t one, and somehow I can’t rate that possibility low. If this place is a training ground, wouldn’t someone have to leave eventually? You could warp out, fine. But if it’s a device designed to move via levers that aren’t constrained by coordinate systems, wouldn’t it be much more likely to use the same method when returning? Wouldn’t the fact that they bothered to install levers be evidence that maintaining or establishing the technology through warping alone is difficult? The pince-nez chain is heavy. Pushing up the sliding glasses, I looked at the granite of the fountain and said to Leonard.

“There appears to be no lever on the surface. We should number them clockwise and go to number 1.”

Then Leonard looked at my face in confusion.

“What are you talking about? You said we should go to path 6. And I think we should go to number 7.”

Why is his tone suddenly like this? I was bewildered for a moment and shook my head.

“You seem to have already finished numbering. What’s your basis for saying we should enter from number 7, not even number 8?”

“Formal speech? Yes, we’ve already been to number 6. Haven’t we already gone around most of the passages? We said we’d check quickly since there’s no time, and with these glasses, I can spot those things you call levers.” At Leonard’s words, I looked strange and slightly hardened my expression.

“That never happened. How are you remembering things?”

No. This is strange. I’m strange. It’s not just Leonard’s problem. No, maybe he’s strange too. Then Leonard brought his face close to mine and said.

“Why is your face so serious?”

He started talking about different things than me—I sense it intuitively. There’s no problem with ‘seeing.’ The problem is only memory. The order of memories is getting mixed up. What just happened feels like it happened the day before yesterday, and what happened yesterday feels like it just happened. Everything remains in memory, but the index extraction isn’t smooth. Memory is continuous. Memory is also bound by place. But first, it’s vaguely bound by time. Between the unreasonable time and the disconnection of time, there’s an adhesive that makes it possible to legitimately accept the nonsensical events that occur in dreams. I was here yesterday and the day before yesterday too. No, the memory set as the most recent feels like the only real one. I was definitely relieved about returning home just moments ago. And I vaguely had a goal too. The order of that was definitely far ahead, but only the goal of that event is here. What’s relegated to the past falls into a state where I can remember it yet cannot remember it. There’s a homeostatic device between consciousness and—unconsciousness. Today I learn for the first time that order is important in memory.

“Fountain pen.”

Is it there? Please, I searched my pockets. Empty grasping, then the rough texture of cotton fabric, quickly. I repeated the same word like a mantra as I emptied every pocket. A metallic object with a clip caught in the inside of my jacket. I took out the fountain pen and was about to write on documents when I bit my lip. If I use up the documents here, I won’t have tools to use if problems arise outside. And I’ll have even less time to think! Before I could finish thinking, my choice converged on one option. I threw off my gloves and wrote on the back of my hand.

Memory is jumbled, this is all I can think of right now, because—

“Ow.”

I grimaced and looked down at where I felt pain. A fountain pen in my right hand and in my left hand… There was ink on the back of my left hand. The fountain pen nib had scraped the skin, making the back of my hand red. Memory is jumbled? Me? Extremely bewildered, I looked around, but I had no idea what crazy thing had just happened in this situation where every moment should be precious. We were standing still in the plaza without moving. I said to Leo.

“Memory is jumbled.”

It’s my handwriting. I felt a chill and muttered. I held my head and squinted.

“Is that true? Well…”

What did I do earlier? I was looking for an escape route. Ah, we’ve almost gone around everything! Where is this? It’s a maze. A maze made like a village, a training ground, mimesis-like imitation of reality, the seams that were covered with black fog fall away. Leo looked at the back of my hand and said worriedly.

“Why did you hurt your hand?”

Right. Why here? Without needing to think, the answer is clear. Seeing that I’m here with Leo now, I grabbed his arm and asked.

“That means my past self was that urgent. Your Highness, I’m seeing this place for the first time. We need to get out of here, but where should we go?”

Then Leonard said with a face that sensed something strange, “You said we should go to number 6.”

Number 6? No. We’ve already been to number 6. “I think we should go to number 7, Your Highness.”

And I put the fountain pen to the back of my hand. “Our opinions already differ.” Between me and me. I quickly wrote on the back of my hand. Record everything. And there’s more to write. The pen nib digs into the flesh.

“Memory is jumbled, record everything.”

I was confused seeing that collection of letters. Writing on the back of my hand? I haven’t done that since graduating high school. I grimaced and asked.

“Why…?”

Leo, who had been watching me with cold eyes, calmly asked.

“What did we do yesterday?”

“We were in Italy… we were there, but why ask that? Why the formal speech?”

Leo took out a pocket knife, cut the back of his hand, then snatched my pen and quickly wrote on his own hand.

“No, we returned home. We’re currently in the middle of an operation, Count. Our memories are going wrong. We came to gather information before the main operation, to Pleroma Bamberg…”

Leonard stopped speaking. As if his mind had been completely cleared, he stared blankly into space.

I understood the situation. I continued the words he couldn’t finish.

“We entered the Bamberg Archdiocese.”

Then Leonard tilted his head with a face that wondered why I was stating the obvious. Then he answered.

“That’s right. You came to the residential area too, Count. There were many people here just now, but they all disappeared.”

“No. This isn’t the time to talk. We need to go first. Anywhere.”

I scribbled what I needed to know, what I had grasped even if only intuitively, on the back of my hand. Blood and ink mixed. Then I sharpened my mana and briefly materialized it, stabbing the back of my hand with mana. And I drew a line. To maintain gentle pain, it’s better to draw thin and long rather than stab deep. Blood flows. I can’t spill my blood in this place, am I crazy? I consumed it and measured the pain. This should be enough to continue…

I raised my hand to the pain. The letters densely written on the back of my hand confused me. Memory wirr. Alles notieren. Op. Eure Hoheit… Why? What’s this? Why did I abbreviate everything? Operation, in the middle of an operation? Since when? Memory wirr, what kind of hybrid is this? Was I too busy to write out Erinnerungen completely? Below that are letters pressed so hard they drew blood—NICHT ZWEIFELN. The capital letters take my breath away. Emphasizing not to doubt to this extent? I understand. I won’t doubt. It’s my writing. The handwriting, the wounds, all of it. At the end where my gaze naturally moved, this is written. Hurry. I pulled Leonard.

“Let’s go. To number 7.”

Because time keeps shifting—I don’t know what kind of time it’s subordinate to. My head? Memory? Reality? Or something else? I can only guess!—I need to speak and think quickly. The speed of speech gets tired trying to catch up with the speed of thought and ends up missing everything. Writing, drawing, gestures, everything cannot catch up with thought. Thought repeats explosive fusion alone even in infinite moments of an instant, and the moment I recognize all the paradoxical precision and grain of that ambiguous thought, the mind is in the fourth dimension, but the three-dimensional body blocks it. As you know, the brain’s fuses melt and snap one by one. I can only look ahead blankly, all humans have always been like this, and thoughts completed in an instant of an instant are expressed through eons of words, but before that happens, the head that couldn’t bear the load gets reset and becomes unable to say anything. I must never miss the opportunity; what languages does Leonard know—Latin, ancient Greek, French, German, English, ah, I began speaking very quickly in English—very slowly.

“Just now I went to other bishops’ offices with a quill pen. Until then, there wasn’t much confusion in my memory…”

As I remember. Can I trust what I know so far? A desperate question arises, but sorry, the situation isn’t quite appropriate for asking this question here. Think rationally. The path we’ve taken so far had a pattern that wasn’t difficult. It’s made in a natural way, and since it’s a space unique to Pleroma, all the decorative objects used as levers inside have patterns designed for people’s convenience and efficiency. Therefore, the memories so far, at least the information.

“Memory is.”

Leonard continued my words. I spoke without knowing I was speaking, and he understood everything. He speaks very quickly in British English.

“Even if there were problems, the degree would be mild. Also, we should distinguish between memory and information, and there probably aren’t major problems with the information we’ve obtained so far. I think the same.”

Only then did I realize I had forgotten whether I spoke in American or British style, and since that was slow information, not speech, I have no memory of it. But Leonard didn’t seem to think deeply about it, and anyway he was just being faithful to native pronunciation—Germans usually use English in German style, so it might not matter how I spoke. Meanwhile, he continues speaking separately from me.

“If there’s no disruption to our vision and things are as they appear. If memory is being flipped in the same state as now, we should have detected something strange even when alone. Even in this situation, our sense of purpose is clear, but when our minds return even briefly, we’d know that the information doesn’t add up. Ainsiedel said the Archbishop of Bamberg and the Bishop of Eichstätt are mental-type ability users. They can intervene in the mind.”

“The Archbishop of Bamberg can insert memories.”

“That’s it.”

Leonard states definitively. Then he stops talking and looks at the scenery, discovers my hand, and is horrified.

“What did you do to your hand…”

No. Listen properly. I urgently grabbed only what I could catch among my thoughts and said.

“Memory manipulation is the Archbishop of Bamberg’s unique ability. And the Bishop of Eichstätt, who is the Archbishop’s younger brother, also has similar mental-type abilities. Family relationships can wait. He’s developed tremendously in the past 12 years. From what I can see, he figured out how to implement his unique ability through magical formulas. If he has this kind of ability, there’s no need to spare it at all. What if he’s been applying it at reduced intensity across the entire Bamberg diocese? What if he’s been inducing the believers’ favor and loyalty?” Or if the same Bamberg ‘province,’ meaning the four northern dioceses, were sharing it… We don’t have time to be doing this here. We must get outside and prepare countermeasures, even hastily. It’s the right time since we’ve already activated all supply networks to the extreme for the operation. No, this isn’t the time for such thoughts. I should have saved even one word. It’s a waste of time! How can we break this? Think about such things. How we can return.

“Unique ability? Then where exactly would it extend from and to?” Leonard asks in line with my words. I refused to answer. “It’s not important. We need to get out first. Let’s go in reverse order. Let’s trace back from 8 to 1. Sometimes the method that seems slowest is the fastest method.”

Leonard responded expressionlessly. “Good. Let’s go.” Go? I checked the pain on the back of my hand and frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about… but this isn’t the time to ask. Right.”

“I’ll request help from outside before I forget.”

He said. But he didn’t send contact even after time passed. He looked down at the back of his hand, realized the situation, and sighed, while I sent a simple signal outside. Rescue won’t come in here, but I needed the archives and information available from other levers outside. I updated the information on the back of my hand. Now I’ve used up to my fingers and am encroaching on my wrist.

Leonard entered path 8 and asked.

“Count. If this problem is made of mana, couldn’t we break it with divine power?”

Good. It seems we’ve had quite a struggle with memory confusion, but the conversation has come this far. I placed my hand on Leonard’s core and pushed divine power strongly. After a while, he told me the effect.

“Good. Thanks to the divine power remaining in my body, it lasts a bit. If you have the capacity, please continue injecting divine power.”

You don’t need to make such an obvious request, I said.

Leonard suddenly said.

“Your memory is cut off, so you haven’t been able to keep using divine power. You need countermeasures for yourself too, Count.”

“What? No, more than that…”

I looked at the back of my hand that had become hot as if scratched.

“Ah.”

What an insane ability. You haven’t been able to keep using divine power, right. Divine power. I quickly wrote letters on the back of my hand. Leonard asked.

“What if we scatter divine power across the field?”

“It’s a bit dangerous. We mustn’t let them know we’re here. If you mean to completely remove the corresponding mana from this field, it’s dangerous. If they’ve set up sensors, it’s only a matter of time before they come here.” Actually, using it on Leonard is also taking a risk.

“Then use it on yourself too.”

“That’s difficult. I see that mana is continuously supplied, so purification doesn’t last long, and self-purification uses too much divine power to keep pushing like that. Instead, if I purify the surrounding air to block external mana, it would look like I used purification magic on myself and would be effective… If this memory magic isn’t being sprayed from somewhere but is the nature of the field itself, it might be even more difficult. Should we try anyway?”

I created a divine barrier around my entire body except my feet. In that state, I remained fine for quite a long time. Is this really complete? Will this method work? It would be more effective to cover even my feet, but if they’ve made a security system to detect divine power, the worst situation would unfold, so I can’t rashly reach for it. If we’re discovered, everything ends. Even the peace of this entire country. Except for the hope of retry that remains, there’s no chance for recovery again. European politics would fall into a storm and Germany would be wrecked. The Papal States would regain their golden age. The French ‘pseudo’ empire would dominate in Western Europe.

I mustn’t be complacent. I looked at the end of the residential area and said.

“Much better. There’s nothing at path 8. Let’s go to path 7.”

Mm, it’s a nice day.

I looked at the street lined with warm houses shining under the sunlight. This must be the lay residential area of Bamberg Archdiocese. Ordinarily familiar buildings, buildings that look similar everywhere, making here feel like this neighborhood and there like that neighborhood. I raised my stinging hand. Oh no. When I didn’t follow, Leonard turned to look at me. He’s saying something to me. Beeeep— Along with gradually audible tinnitus, I felt abdominal pain. Abdominal pain? No, not my organs. My muscles were stinging. I grimaced and rubbed my side. The colors of the world began to change strangely. I quietly muttered.

“It’s noisy.”

The area above my temples stung. I swallowed once and asked.

“Your Highness, can you hear that? The sound is quite loud.”

“I can’t hear it.”

He briefly listened to the air before continuing.

“There’s no way I wouldn’t hear a sound that the Count can hear. Could there be a time delay involved?”

“That can’t be. The world seems to have gotten a bit brighter too….”

I muttered while clutching my increasingly painful side. There’s a slight sweet taste in my mouth. What did I just eat? No, I still remember, so new memories couldn’t have… interfered. Only then did Leonard show a face of realization.

“Divine power. Wait. The divine power that was wrapped around the Count’s body has been released, so you’ve lost your memory again. And I’m not. Please wrap yourself in divine power quickly.”

Leonard said while removing his monocle and putting it in his pocket.

“I too see the world looking a bit blue, perhaps because the divine power in my body has diminished. How about you, Count?”

Before answering, I pressed my brow. When I grabbed the wall, my mouth tasted bitter. Leonard stopped mid-sentence and stood still.

“Wait, we’ve been in the residential area too long…. Ah.”

Seeing him mention the residential area, Leonard’s memory has errors again. He slowly closed and opened his eyes, then raised the back of his hand. He grasped the situation and spoke.

“It’s a technique. There seems to be another problem—my vision is blue and I’m hearing tinnitus.”

Strangely, something like muscle pain stopped and then repeatedly returned, making me frown. There’s no way such a thing would suddenly appear.

Leonard showed a serious expression for a moment, then began saying something. The rapid-fire cold analysis that flowed out sounded sufficiently coherent, but all the voices flowed to the opposite side. I was horrified by the sensations rushing in as his voice grew louder and leaned against the wall. As I sat down and tilted my body to the side, he caught me.

“Are you alri—!”

“Stop.”

I felt a headache and spoke clearly again.

“Don’t speak.”

Leonard’s mouth stops. He realized there was an abnormality in the situation and hardened his expression. He strangely stared into the air with a face as if seeing something he shouldn’t see and began waving his hand in front of his eyes, and I felt the pain that had been entering my side disappear in the quiet moment. From exhaustion, my head touches the ground. Having grasped the situation, I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Ah….”

Damn it.

Why am I lying down? At such an urgent moment. I bolted upright from my position. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth. Ah, I looked at the world in admiration. The world was bright yet dark like dawn’s twilight, with red light mixed throughout and purple wind rippling.

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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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