How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 538

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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 (538)

I stand beneath the scorching sun at 10 AM.

It had been 34 hours since I was confined to Charlottenburg Palace. Though I had frequently ventured outside through extra chapters to restore my energy, there was still a psychological unpleasantness that came with being confined. Now, breathing the outside air for the first time in a while in this world, I felt more energized than usual. Perhaps it was thanks to filling my core with blood. My heart felt like it might burst from the abundant magical power flowing through it. The fact that I could smile even while looking at the negative impression value of [-2.8934281] said it all. I felt like I could go out and resolve dozens of rampage reports in succession right now, so I had to make an effort to keep my voice calm and composed. I looked ahead and spoke at a steady, measured pace with persistence.

“First, I understand that many people across the continent have been deeply concerned by Pleroma’s announcement. I too was shocked beyond measure when I encountered such a thunderbolt declaration.”

Despite saying I was shocked, my expression showed little surprise as I continued speaking. No change in expression was needed right now.

“The reason is, firstly, even though my name was mentioned, I had no idea what basis their claim could possibly have, and secondly, I realized that their schemes are becoming increasingly cunning and strategic by the day. I admit, I was astounded by their desperate determination.”

Only at the last sentence did I close my eyes. Then, with an expressionless face, I continued.

“And next, I was deeply saddened.”

I was saddened—the ten thousand spectators who had entered with imperial permission showed faces of doubt. The subtle changes in facial muscles reached me deeply, having had to learn to read people’s faces my entire life. They think it’s incongruous to hear the word “saddened” coming from me. Their general expectation—”I am not Pleroma”—didn’t come, and now they’re on edge, wondering if I’ll say something reactionary or self-centered. Mecklenburg and the Class 99 representative visible at the edge of my vision are also staring only at me. The atmosphere began to fill with tension, enough to subtly change even the reactions of those who had received and read the speech script.

Then now…

It was time to answer why I was saddened.

“Why was I saddened? Because our main enemy Pleroma so blatantly tried to divide you, our subjects.”

I raised my right hand to a position slightly below eye level and struck the air sharply with my hand blade as I spoke. It became clear to these Germans’ large eyes that I was showing an attitude different from their expectations. The square stiffened with immediate tension, unable to grasp what would come next. Whether it was tension about content or tone, only they would know. I shifted my gaze from the front to look at the audience on both sides and emphasized.

“Yes, very well. Their wicked intentions were clear. So how did their operation turn out?”

I shifted my gaze to ask the ‘distinguished guests’ in the front row.

“His Majesty the Emperor, the Prime Minister, and my respected elder brother—such excellent leaders of our empire’s politics—and some of our subjects already know.”

Turning my gaze back to the front, I nodded slightly and spoke without blinking.

“The operation was a great success.”

“Making things easy to understand” often involves distortion of content, whether primary or secondary. Simplification is accompanied by ignoring context and generalization. Conversely, detailed explanation considering individual literacy—that is, detailed commentary on all things—becomes even more dependent on each person’s literacy, secondarily obscuring the context of the statement. In topics that must be handled sharply, “making things easy to understand” through simplification is absolutely necessary to bring about public solidarity, yet in some cases becomes extreme injustice.

As a member of society—someone who must reflect on the injustices of the times at every moment—I cannot be disloyal to my fellow citizens regarding topics I’m conscious of. But today I must be cautious. The reason is none other than that the fellow citizens I must advance with today are trying to kill me, and the basis for that murder lies not in justice but in the one-sided deception of a cult group. So I won’t speak in roundabout ways. Even if there’s distortion, I’ll express things simply and directly. A strong tone doesn’t matter.

The greatest strength and weakness of populism is that conveying power sometimes has a more powerful impact than conveying facts. Broadly speaking, the speeches of Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela show different tendencies from those of Roosevelt and Churchill. The former challenge the human spirit. Their speeches, which target humanity’s soul to question our current state and present the path forward, will become immortal teachings through the text itself. The latter clearly presuppose enemies that the nation must defeat in that era. The Axis powers, and again the Axis powers—these are the enemies of these speakers. As you know, the latter speeches sometimes expand into universal insights that span centuries when they touch upon the former’s teachings like Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, but generally they are much more subordinated to historical and national context compared to the former. Rather than being clearly divided, this is often mixed, but as I said, I distinguish them this way according to their tendencies. The power to unite the people by officially recognizing other humans, groups, and ideologies that the nation wants to fight against as enemies—that is the core of their speeches. The former speeches urge self-reflection, while the latter urge mobilization.

In today’s situation, the choice should naturally be the latter. Since I’m now in a situation where I’ve lost even the support to urge self-reflection, it’s right to first seek mobilization.

Even if the audience’s antipathy toward me hasn’t completely subsided yet, a progression that deviates from their expectations makes them anticipate the next words rather than being conscious of their antipathy. A good sign. The audience wants to hear why Pleroma’s operation was a great success. I opened my eyes wide so that all three sides of the whites were visible and raised my hand again to the rigid audience, putting strength into my voice.

“Our government, which had been doing its utmost to eliminate Pleroma, has become a group that employs the Pleroma Christ. I, who have never communicated with or collaborated with Pleroma, have truly been transformed in an instant by everyone into their Christ.”

How will you explain your strange abilities? The only abilities you have as someone who isn’t Pleroma? While you yourself don’t know how you were able to eliminate so many parishes… I desperately suppress the doubts that raise their heads. My throat, damaged from drinking blood, produced a lower and rougher voice than usual when I put strength into it. I was worried during rehearsal, but not now. Rather, when telling stories of crisis, it was better to make the psychology unstable. I continued speaking while controlling the tension in my neck and around my eyes to appear heated but calm.

“The peaceful daily lives of our subjects and the German Empire, which had been advancing triumphantly without knowing defeat, came to a halt due to Pleroma’s lies! When the empire fell into chaos due to Pleroma’s declaration, what happened? The nationwide rampage rate increased by 125% compared to last week. From Easter evening until today, 7,230 of our precious subjects have died according to Pleroma’s schemes. Not to mention that steel and raw material imports and exports were temporarily suspended, causing economic stagnation in this short period, and our currency depreciated by 6% against the pound. What about the Berlin, Frankfurt, and Hamburg stock exchange indices? They fell by up to 8%. In just three days.”

Did you notice something strange?

The 125% increase is edited information. If I can’t entrust my future to the public’s literacy in accepting Pleroma’s statements, then I’ll use their literacy in reverse. This is 125% compared to ‘when’? It’s comparing the rampage rate from 6 PM on Easter evening to 6 PM the next day with the previous week, which seems plausible at first glance but…

People who gathered to enjoy the festive atmosphere during the holiday would drink from evening until dawn. When drinking, emotions often become heated. Since rampage basically involves exposure to drugs and explodes destructively when accompanied by sudden emotional changes, the rampage rate on Easter night and the following dawn was ‘originally’ scheduled to be higher than on weekdays.

However, there were no rampages last Easter to compare with, and today’s Easter was the first large-scale holiday since the rampage crisis began. Also, is there any guarantee that the confusion triggered by the declaration didn’t affect the rampage rate even slightly? In a situation where I must pursue practical results, why should I hesitate to use the editing methods mainly used by politicians?

There’s no reason.

I slowly looked around at the audience and spoke at a pace that wasn’t too slow.

“Everyone, our businesses cannot continue to operate like this. Are businesses the only problem? No. The economy is like an ecosystem—when one thing collapses, another cannot remain safe. When businesses fail, unemployment increases, and when unemployment increases, households go bankrupt. If we leave things like this, we cannot avoid a major economic crisis worthy of being called a great depression. This is proof that the German Empire’s safety and position on the continent have become precarious, and it’s a great difficulty threatening the unified empire that we Germans obtained through painstaking efforts.”

Though the term “great depression” doesn’t exist yet, it was the optimal word to instill a sense of crisis in the public. I finished speaking and closed my mouth. After a brief pause, I spoke in a firm voice.

“So they succeeded. This is exactly the collapse of the empire that Pleroma wanted.”

The audience is rigid and doesn’t jeer. The ten thousand subjects invited here entered with imperial approval, so they wouldn’t dare think of jeering, but other regions I can’t see with my eyes probably aren’t much different either.

[-2.6152389]

The impression value keeps going down and up while ultimately rising. The value that was about -2.9 is now -2.6. The last digits change rapidly. From experience, changes at this stage reflect confusion in their thoughts rather than favorability toward me. It will probably continue this way until 0 or the early positive numbers.

In the silence, I can see Mecklenburg swallowing even while looking straight ahead. He grasped the changed atmosphere. So did I. No one tells me directly, but I could feel it with my skin.

“This won’t do. If things continue like this, Pleroma will succeed in isolating Germany on the continent. They intentionally assassinated figures from various countries to bring down the German Empire’s prestige, and now, not satisfied with that, they want to divide our German interior. No—it’s already divided.”

I looked at the audience, stiff and unmoving, and continued.

“Everyone, I don’t know on what basis Pleroma calls me their Christ. I can’t particularly sympathize with their goals, nor do I have any reason to. Because I don’t want eternal life. I only look forward to living happily with you subjects until the end on this earth, dying gloriously, and being buried in the ground. I don’t want wealth, position, or honor! These were sometimes already in my hands and sometimes not, but now they have no value whatsoever. I didn’t become a Royal Mage to obtain all these secondary things. I volunteered for the nation’s emergency mobilization order with the resolve to drop out of school solely because I wanted to protect you subjects from Pleroma’s threat, and I was selected that way. The resolve I made on the day I first received the Royal Mage uniform to serve you subjects loyally for life has not changed even today when Pleroma plays their petty tricks!”

It broke through -2.1. They are confused. They don’t know what to believe. Thanks to using the media and Prussian-Bavarian secret police for 40 hours straight to shake their knowledge and preconceptions, it became even easier. I spoke with a serious face, then smiled subtly and slightly hardened my eyelids.

“But since I’ve refuted them like this, they’ll say this: ‘Young Lucas Ascanien had difficulties with blood and a series of incidents in his childhood, so he must be Pleroma among Pleroma, one born with our abilities. The reason he is our Christ is because of that’!”

I pushed my chin slightly inward and tilted my head at an angle. While doing so, I opened my eyes wide and asked.

“Is that the answer?”

Silence flows. -2, -1.9, -2 again, -2.1, -1.9 again… The values fluctuate wildly. I raised veins in my neck and shouted.

“I ask you. Is that truly all there is!”

Several audience members grimaced at the loud voice. Without hesitation, I held up a blood pack with an official seal. At that moment, many people’s eyes widened.

“This is blood I received in exchange for my blood at the blood bank this morning at 9 o’clock. It’s human blood and still contains human magical power since it hasn’t been processed yet.”

I didn’t exchange it for my blood. I’m saying this because the imperial court ordered it, but even so, it’s true that this is actual blood. Only now does the square stir for the first time. Whether they were terrified or shocked, they visibly showed their psychology. It would be because what’s about to happen is so clear. I gestured to the doctor waiting in the first row, called him to the platform, and asked.

“Doctor, is this blood with magical power? Please make sure our empire no longer wavers due to Pleroma’s schemes.”

The doctor dropped a drop of blood onto a plate prepared by the government, tapped his glasses—an artifact—and answered, also somewhat frightened.

“It is blood. It’s blood before magical power removal.”

I nodded and tore open the blood pack, pouring it into a cup handed from behind. I swallowed once and made the sign of the cross. Then I held up the glass cup filled with bright red blood and said.

“Let’s settle this once and for all.”

The thick blood goes down my throat. The square is in uproar with cries of “Uh, uh—” and such. The vibrations they make reach the platform. My throat instinctively rejects the blood and keeps closing my esophagus. I can’t give up here. Though drinking it myself feels better than forcibly pouring it down my throat, ah, think positive thoughts! It was no different. Rather, I had to make an effort not to lose strength in my legs from nausea. The moderately cool day now felt hot. Cold sweat flowed. My esophagus was being attacked by the descending magical power, and I could clearly tell where the blood was staying. I reflexively lowered my head and bit my lips. The audience who saw my expression change opened their mouths and fell silent.

Impression value—I opened the window to divert my attention. The number that was -1.9 hovers around -1.8 and -1.7, then falls back to -1.9 but returns to -1.8. People are trapped in confusion and can’t escape. I tried to smile and raised my head. Sweat flowed from my temples due to disgust. I tried to maintain cold eyes and extended my hand to Mecklenburg beside me.

“Look, take my hand. Everyone, look! If any magical abnormality is detected in me after drinking blood, I will be arrested at this moment. These mages are here to immediately separate me from you subjects and arrest me if there’s a problem with me. But if there’s no problem, you’ll have no choice but to believe in my innocence.”

Mecklenburg, pale as a sheet, removed his gloves and took my extended hand. He tried not to look at me with anxious eyes, put his hand inside his cuffs to check, then let go without any expression and put his hands behind his back again. The Class 99 representative was also briefly flustered but felt my pulse, realized there really was no problem, nodded, and returned to his seat.

-1.8, -1.7, -1.6… Again -1.7, -1.5… I leaned on the podium again and lowered my head.

“Ugh…”

Damn, ah, damn. I’m overwhelmed by the urge to turn off the amplification magic. My stomach absolutely cannot adapt to human blood. Honestly, I’ve never even eaten blood sausage. The interrogation was too short-term to make me adapt, it seems. I covered my mouth and cooled my sweat for what felt like an eternity before going down. The Empire newspaper camera followed me. I extended my hand to the politicians sitting in the first row watching the announcement. Though the politicians had been notified in advance, they were briefly startled and pulled back, but soon felt that there was nothing wrong with the magical waves emanating from my body and shook hands. They closed their mouths and nodded with faces wondering why it was normal when it shouldn’t be, then let go. I handed one hand to the mages and with the other hand raised it fervently toward the sky, shouting.

“Look, did any change occur in me from drinking blood? Did I use Vitriol like Pleroma and gain more magical power from blood! I remain in the same ordinary state as before drinking, with no difference. There is no change in me whatsoever. Only…”

-1.4, -1.3, -1. Again -1.2. I climbed back onto the platform, stood before the podium, and spoke powerfully.

“Only now, extreme anger rises at having to drink living human blood to stop Pleroma’s strategy. Anger rises at the empire shaking because of Pleroma’s schemes! Everyone, I…”

I grabbed my mouth and lowered my head. Then I barely swallowed and glared ahead, continuing.

“I am not Pleroma.”

That’s my limit. Without even a moment to endure more, I bent my body outside the camera frame and vomited blood. The moment I made the “urgh” sound, I felt fatigue at the fact that I had finally made it this far, while simultaneously being shocked as I perceived the numbers changing frantically before my eyes. -1.2, -0.7, -0.3, the numbers were clear even in my blurred vision. There should be sounds of disgust from the audience, no, there really seemed to be such sounds… -0.1, +0.1, before starting the speech I had secretly hoped for 0 as my goal, but what about 0. In less than 30 seconds, a total value of 1.3 increased. The audience’s human reaction to vomiting and their intuitive impression move in opposite directions. Thinking this way, my stomach turned for a different reason this time. The image is successful. Visual effects are more powerful than anything.

I remained frozen while bent over. I expected this. I intended this. This is also what Adrian Ascanien ordered me to do. He kindly advised me to feed Lucas Ascanien blood and imprint the ‘image’ of rejecting blood on the public. Regardless of the facts, it’s just a matter of drawing the picture, so go and don’t worry about your dignity or anything else, just focus on clearing your name… Even if you yourself are disillusioned, ultimately the public is more obsessed with whether you’re Pleroma or not, so this results in an elevation of dignity. To think that pointlessly drinking blood and vomiting is maintaining dignity—so the reason Mecklenburg kept hesitating is that this is a strategy difficult for a third party to recommend unless they have extraordinary cold blood. It might be different if I thought of it and executed it myself…

And this is also something I thought of and executed myself. My head gradually becomes cooler. The impression value has completely settled into positive numbers. If something like +0.5 can be considered a meaningful value, it’s a success.

Mecklenburg lightly struck the tip of his shoe to release magical power. It must be a signal asking what I’m doing not getting up. I took out a handkerchief, wiped the blood from my mouth, and spoke in a somewhat more hoarse voice. Following “I am not Pleroma,” it was time to continue.

“I have never drunk blood like them before.”

The government’s verification doesn’t count. There’s no need for it to. The government doesn’t want the secret interrogation to leak either. +0.6, +0.7, I don’t know what expression I’m making in front of the public right now. But the impression value they perceive is probably still being influenced by the visual image. By image, I mean the emotions revealed in my expression. I say once more.

“I want to be thorough once more here.”

What Mecklenburg hinted at in advance at the end is what’s about to happen now. He told me about the emperor’s hidden scheme with a decision difficult enough to want to pat me on the back once, but actually I had already foreseen this much and had already made Prussia communicate through Bavaria. From now on, this interrogation will also turn to my side.

“The scene you’re about to see may be uncomfortable. It’s an interrogation method that temporarily suppresses consciousness to get accurate answers from the subject. I don’t want to avoid swearing the truth in Christ’s name.”

In 19th-century Germany, without Christianity, you’re dead. Even in a situation where atheism is widely spreading, it’s still true. Living environments can’t change overnight. So I’m prepared to use any means. Even at this moment when the impression value hit +1.0.

I gestured to the attendants waiting behind to bring a chair, and sat down. As I waited silently, before long a familiar face came up on stage wearing robes. Narke looks at me with no expression, as if meeting me here for the first time today. I closed my eyes, and he placed his hand on my forehead.

—Enter through the narrow gate.

A loud sound like my heart dropping echoed in my head. Narke squints under his eyelids briefly in the backlight. His lips twist. But he quickly regains his earlier composure.

So we were performing a play. Both of us had to act and show the acted results to make them seem more real than anything else.

—For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.

Since the camera had returned to the front, it would ultimately capture my profile. I felt myself slowly becoming short of breath and swallowed. The body temperature touching my forehead was cold and the sunlight was hot.

—But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

When I woke up again, I was leaning against a single-seat sofa looking at the sun. Narke was putting holy water on my forehead. I couldn’t decode his expression. According to the plan, Narke gave me no message and left as soon as his mission ended. The divine mage who had stayed for verification followed him. It wouldn’t be good to show Narke treating me humanely for long. He threw the cunningly prepared questions he had ready, and I answered using the part of consciousness he hadn’t put to sleep. That was the plan, but for some reason I can’t remember.

I received water from an attendant, drank it, and was relieved that my appearance was still neat as I slowly got up from my seat.

So.

“My fellow subjects.”

Was this verification successful? My heart was pounding, but the numbers tell me the reality. The impression value had somehow become +2.1. Visual persuasion is generally better than a hundred truths. I tried to return my slightly unfocused eyes to their normal state and closed and opened them. With those clarified eyes, I faced them again and spoke.

“Now you’ve seen everything. You must know what the truth is. According to our government’s information, Pleroma had already set up another messiah externally. Then today they suddenly say it’s not that person but me who is the messiah. Why? Because among all the mages His Majesty selected with his broad magnanimity, I have a past that’s good for inducing confusion among the subjects. They chose me as their Christ solely because Lucas Ascanien’s troublesome past was good material for dividing the empire. However, they needed to add stimulating seasoning to this past.”

I naturally raised my spread hand above the podium and twisted the corner of my mouth.

“Why? Because the fact that I was central to a series of childhood incidents was no longer enough to make you subjects fall for Pleroma’s schemes. That’s why I suddenly became Pleroma’s Christ. This is it, everyone! This era’s new Christ was truly born in a strategic manger. On Pleroma’s operation table.”

I raised my eyebrows and sneered. +2.3, +2.4, now I could hear some response. It was really the voices of actual people. While inwardly surprised, I acted out a crooked smile as prepared and shouted.

“Do you believe in this unholy Christ? In this Christ’s birth?”

I cleared my throat and looked around at the subjects with a cold smile before speaking clearly.

“I do not believe. Clearly, for our German Empire and the continent and universal human values and our religion that was no different from our ancestors’ lives, I do not believe. The Christ claimed by a criminal group is not Christ! They are not worthy of speaking Christ’s name! Acknowledging the words of senseless people is no different from attempting to make that senselessness reality.”

When the Christ-designated person raised his hand and spoke these words with emphasis, applause and cheers poured from the audience. No, it wasn’t enough to say it poured, but considering the initial ice-thin tension, it was remarkable progress. Sometimes some reactions gradually spread like wildfire to lead the whole.

I felt what I hadn’t fully vomited creating chaos with magical power in my stomach and turned my head again to silently dry heave. Then the impression score that rose like a ghost made me feel disgusted at its trailing digits, but I now had enough mental preparation to use even this as an opportunity. I opened my eyes wide and spoke while making eye contact with each person.

“Pleroma must… repeatedly drink blood to survive. Because only blood is needed as a medium to absorb magical power. It’s to maintain their resurrected flesh and use Vitriol more powerfully. Therefore, they cannot have any aversion to drinking blood.”

But not wanting to feel nauseous twice, I briefly closed my eyes and stopped speaking until my stomach settled, then looked at the crowd with my usual eyes.

“But that is not the case. I am absolutely not accustomed to blood. Contrary to their claims, contrary to your beliefs, it is because I am not Pleroma. I know that you regard me as Pleroma based on what happened in my childhood, but since I have no memory of it, there is nothing I can carelessly tell you about it. However, from the moment I can remember, I have never lived as Pleroma for even a single moment. Instead of them, I pledge my loyalty to you, my subjects.”

I spoke with neither mockery nor smile erased from my expression. As I became serious, the audience also grew serious again.

“My subjects, I want to set things right. I want to help not Pleroma, but you, my subjects. With that single heart, I have run until this day. In that sense, think again. Pleroma has thrown the Empire into chaos, causing innocent subjects to die and our economy to shrink rapidly, no different from wartime conditions. Our homeland, which was racing toward greatness, has turned the continent into our enemy due to the schemes of a cult organization.”

+2.9, +3.1, +3.4 The numbers soar endlessly. Once the upward momentum starts, it only gets steeper, never ending. I paint the image of a strong leader that they desire on my face. No matter who the crowd sees overlapping in me, they had to believe in me instead of Pleroma.

“Believing their words, and mistaking me for Pleroma’s Christ because of their words, is giving power to the tongue and pen that Pleroma falsely wields. That is why I lament! To those who slaughter innocent lives on the continent and now seek to drag our homeland and the continent into the mire with such inhumanity—!”

I raised my hand above my forehead and raised my voice before stopping mid-sentence. Silence flows through the blazing eyes of thousands like the sun. I finished my words with force amid the densely gathered concentration.

“Do not give them a chance to shake the Empire.”

A moment of silence.

Then I heard a faint sound like a few pieces of stone falling into water. It spread across the entire plaza like raindrops that had just begun to fall, beating against waves. In a situation where no one opened their mouth, only the sound of clapping echoed like that. In the endless sound of people, I finally see the number +4.0. At the edge of my vision, I notice Mecklenburg, whose strength has left him as he breathes rapidly. Whatever he thinks, I am more stable than ever. I strategically pulled up the corners of my mouth and smiled.

“May there be blessings upon our homeland and you, my subjects.”

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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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