How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 565

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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 (565)

In the roar that would sweep away his body, a person sometimes feels tranquility. Gradually, Ulrike became amazed by Terminus Yukairya who had devised the strategy.

Ah, truly astonishing. Amazing… This couldn’t even be compared to the mental battles of board games he had played while recruiting excellent students from a school full of excellent students. Ulrike kept recalling the past from several months ago and comparing it to the present. That was still the only experience he had to compare with.

It wasn’t simply because he was running as that chess piece that he felt chills every time he grasped the opponent’s strategy. Every time he expanded his thinking and branched out from their perspective, there were alternatives at the end of every possibility. At the end of branches dotted with dozens of possibilities, all realistic alternatives to those possibilities… Ulrike laughed bitterly as he felt with his whole body how despicably people could behave for victory. Imagining the scene of France’s great minds gathering around a table with proud faces planning today’s events made his face contort while simultaneously bursting into laughter. Truly, no matter how much Ulrike thought about it or looked back, nothing remained by his side. This was the appearance of the elite adults he had wanted to become. Today.

The reason humans sometimes become strangely calm before disasters they cannot handle is that it’s better for that end to be fate’s urging rather than abandonment by free will. His magical power, which had been creating lightning-like light in the sky and causing storms on earth, seemed to cut through the sky before dying down. French police were pursuing them. Malak—the messenger he had desperately sought—did not grant his wish. Ulrike put strength into his thigh muscles and bounced his body’s direction away from going down the hill. Going down to low ground during battle would be disadvantageous. He had to occupy high ground. However, he shouldn’t remain in a place completely exposed on all sides while obsessing over high ground. Did he want to suffer the same fate he had just inflicted on the hunter? It wouldn’t work because those hiding in the forest were mages. Mages were skilled in disruption magic compared to non-mages.

He couldn’t stay in that spot forever.

“Prenez garde! Il repousse nos balles par sa force magique. Ce n’est point un homme ordinaire, soyez vigilant!”

Ulrike’s French skills couldn’t keep up with native speaker speed. It didn’t matter. He definitely understood they were warning to be careful, and he knew that kind advice wasn’t directed at Ulrike. The police told the French people to be careful. They would eventually band together and find a breakthrough. The most easily predictable attack would be mages using dispersed attacks to scatter concentration while guns intervened in between—it was classic. Being classic made it fundamental, and being fundamental meant countermeasures were prepared, but classics were classics for a reason, weren’t they? Because they always worked fundamentally and systematically. Then Ulrike also had to find a breakthrough. What kind?

While running with all his might, Ulrike thought about a breakthrough while doing something different—shouting in French at the top of his lungs.

“We are not here to harm you. Because several people gathered in groups and shot guns all at once, we are confronting you like this.”

He heard incomprehensible conversation among themselves. Ulrike shouted once more.

“Send us back to Germany immediately. We fell here through spatial magic connected to a collapsing building. We will stay here until the government comes to pick us up directly. Instead, we have no intention of harming any lives.”

“Drop your weapons and raise your hands!”

If we do that, you plan to take us away. You’re thinking of treating us as criminals, illegal immigrants, taking us away, putting me in a detention cell and stuffing only Lucas into the French Imperial Palace? How obvious! We can’t do that for you. Who do you take for a fool?

“Is this how France treats foreign mages?”

“You did not enter the country through legal procedures.”

You brought us here. Ulrike’s anger surged.

Illegal immigration by mages was a tremendous wrong. Because their bodies themselves were weapons. Just as humans could illegally immigrate if they were careful enough, mages could to some extent as well, but because of that, if caught, they might end up finished depending on the circumstances. But today, did we fall here because we wanted to? They brought us here and now they’re making excuses.

But they might truly not know what was going on. Rather than making excuses, because the Imperial Court hadn’t told them the truth, these police officers were doing what they had to do for their country’s safety.

Even so, he had no intention of going in to die.

Magic that moves natural objects is actually difficult. However, as he had done before, he could mimic making it appear so. Taking soil as an example, while humans couldn’t use telekinesis to lift soil, if you put a thin cloth under the soil and pulled it from the other side before lifting, you could naturally appear to be lifting soil. The same went for water and air. It just consumed considerable stamina…

“Luise.”

While Ulrike was just dodging around like a flying squirrel, he felt the light in his vision flicker on like a lighter flame at the voice he heard, but he didn’t react outwardly.

“I can walk. I can walk. Instead…”

“What are you saying? If you walk, your wound will burst open.”

“Of course that would happen. But let’s try blocking it with magical power.”

I’ll try to follow what magical power naturally does inside the body. Lucas’s eyes, with his brain half-wrapped, still held will. Ulrike recalled the request he had made to Lucas in the fire, and remembered that Lucas had granted his request with that deep intention. Ulrike thrust out his right hand as if throwing it to spread a barrier and set his friend down. Though Lucas staggered briefly, he could stand sufficiently. His recovery ability was truly abnormal. To think someone could walk around talking even after being stabbed in the abdomen, not anywhere else, with a knife—he could understand why Pleroma wanted him. As if Lucas didn’t know or had no capacity to know what Ulrike was stiffening about, he spoke clearly with an airy voice.

“I can protect myself, but it’s difficult to devise aggressive strategies. You have to cover this area.”

“You’re stating the obvious.”

While answering that way, Ulrike realized Lucas’s face was ashen like a corpse and unknowingly trembled his irises. Truly, with no trace of human skin color to be found, it was like a corpse he had just buried with his own hands had risen to speak. Saying he could protect himself.

Even so, it was proper for me to do even that. Having made my friend like this now—it was a conclusion reached by focusing on the phenomenon rather than self-blame.

The subject who made his friend like this included not only himself but also Terminus Yukairya, and that side was the real culprit. Ulrike didn’t blame himself as much as Lucas might worry. It was just that the proposition that we are ‘people suitable for killing to the extent that enemies would expect us to kill comrades’ and had actually half-succeeded in doing so—this proposition just beat his entire past life like hail. The teaching still learned in his body—put anger into your sword in a controlled manner and aim at your opponent—was still easily activated. That circulated his troubles, and despite the troubles, his lifetime remembered ‘how to win.’

[Bienheureux sont ceux qui sont affamés et altérés de la justice ― car ils seront rassasiés!]

The distance he had carefully created was caught up to in an instant. The sound of barriers breaking was always like rain. At the same time, the concealment magic Ulrike had cast on himself disappeared. It didn’t matter. That was…

[Hide in the rocks and cover yourselves with dust from the dread of Yahweh and from his majestic glory!]

Can you only fight when made visible? How weak was their skill that they could only manage when they could see? Ulrike struck his wand once through the air, changed it to a sword, and charged at them.

The police officer’s mouth opened wide and closed. That incantation didn’t matter to Ulrike.

…Crash…

“…!”

“Ah—!”

The French people’s screams pierced his ears sharply. Ulrike immediately changed direction and ran to a place perpendicular to the crack. At the roar of the ground collapsing along the magical power Ulrike had laid down, Ulrike gritted his teeth. His jaw muscles bulged beside his jawbone.

Crash—…

Trees collapsed over the huge pit. Ulrike felt his eyes growing hot as he raised his arms to block bullets. His head felt like it would split. Ah, he had never used such large-scale magic alone before. Thanks to them not knowing about the thin magical power laid under the soil, he had succeeded, but…

[L’Eternel a rompu le bâton des méchants, et la verge des dominateurs.]

An incantation heard as soon as he concentrated magical power in his ears. Ulrike had secretly admired and liked French as a cultural lingua franca since childhood, but today it was extremely obstructive. Speak in German—that’s what would have happened at school. The words were fast and small, making it impossible to understand what they were saying. Since he couldn’t understand at all, only confusion was added.

Still, it was fine.

Ulrike swung his arms under concealment magic.

[But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant prosperity.]

His attack spread widely, reaching the hunters who would be somewhere on this land. A whooshing wind sound was heard. Some magical power was deflected and fell like rain over the huge pit.

[The wicked plots against the righteous and gnashes his teeth at him! The Lord laughs at him, for he sees that his day is coming!]

[Et ce qui est réchappé, et demeuré de reste dans la maison de Juda―]

Ulrike grabbed his ears and maintained the continuous flow of magical power. He had to prevent them from climbing up, so he absolutely had to hear their plan now. Though hearing didn’t mean understanding.

[―étendra sa racine par-dessous, et elle produira son fruit par-dessus!]

A mage appeared in the mist. Light gathered at its end.

“…!”

Ulrike spun his body rapidly in the darkness surrounding all sides. Bang… The sound of bullets being fired could be heard but there was no visibility. For a moment, blood from his head to chest cooled icily. He couldn’t forget the water caught in the darkness. Lucas—no sound came from his mouth.

Thud—…

Ulrike felt some of the buckshot scatter his body barrier and lodge in his thigh. There was someone with a rifle, not a shotgun, and someone with a shotgun separately, and he needed to know… Shotguns were used for relatively close enemies. The enemy was at close range. How close? He didn’t know. Probably between 50 and 60 meters—there was no time. Pain took root in that spot and spread toward his waist. His vision became dizzy.

I can walk. I can walk. Let’s try blocking it with magical power. He had to believe. He had to believe in what couldn’t be seen.

[The surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward.]

Whoosh—

Light returned and Ulrike discovered a hunting dog charging at him. Tongue and folded ears, teeth—Ulrike easily thrust out his hand and sent the dog flying.

Crash—

Ulrike rolled down the hill. It was for the best. Because the French mage who had emerged from the pit was right in front of him—

He had to grab his clothes and go in together to finish it. Ah, Ulrike recalled the day he had rolled down a hill with his friend and fallen into a stream. It wasn’t distant past. He burst into mad laughter while grabbing the mage’s collar, instantly lifting his hand up and slamming it to the ground.

“Gack…!”

[After David had taken a census of the people, his heart was stricken, and David said to Yahweh.]

Ulrike’s hand reached the mage’s core.

[Car il sortira de Jérusalem quelques restes, et de la montagne de Sion quelques réchappés, la jalousie de l’Eternel des armées fera cela.]

[I have sinned greatly in what I have done.]

The mage’s face turned bright red. Foam spurted from his mouth. Though no one was strangling him, blood flow all rushed to his pale face. Even so, he shook his head side to side while moving his lips to prepare an attack.

[But now, O Yahweh, please take away the iniquity of your servant…]

Please forgive me.

His hand fell away.

When the mage rolled his eyes back and shook his hands frantically, Ulrike stopped. He took his hand off another’s heart.

It wouldn’t have been difficult to irreparably destroy this mage’s core and set him on the path to death. Ulrike looked at the French police officer with dizzy vision. That face was no different from human faces he had seen in Germany, and the face expressing pain was that face anyone could have. Having come this far, nothing entered his mind except the thought that he should kill, yet his hand stopped.

Ulrike knew he had to break with the past he knew to move forward, yet he didn’t want to move forward. Moving forward toward murder felt no different from murdering his friend once again, so he wanted a different kind of progress. He could save his friend without doing that. It was certainty.

Now Ulrike said he understood why his friend kept shouldering burdens alone. Yes, now he understood all too well. Power that could still be used without killing life remained in this solid body. Ulrike was not yet exhausted.

What made him run?

He couldn’t know. He left the mage who had half-fainted and could no longer exert power, got up, put magical power in his legs, and ran toward the hill where Lucas would be. The faint incantation heard in his ears was annoying. Surely the mages had succeeded in blocking the trees falling upward and getting outside…

[Comment es-tu tombée des cieux ― Etoile du matin, fille de l’aube du jour?]

Ulrike was in a misty forest where no gunfire or anything could be heard. No one’s figure was visible. Only by concentrating magical power heavily in his ears could he hear faint singing.

[toi qui foulais les nations, tu es abattue jusques en terre. Tu disais en ton coeur ― Je monterai aux cieux, je placerai mon trône au-dessus des étoiles du Dieu Fort―]

Ulrike seemed to be gradually losing his sense of direction. Lucas—this time he spoke aloud. Let’s go find our eyepatch. I’ll listen, so you follow. It might sound crazy, but that’s what he said.

[je serai assis en la montagne d’assignation, aux côtés d’Aquilon―]

One.

[Je monterai au-dessus des hauts lieux des nuées ― je serai semblable au Souverain.]

Two.

[Et cependant on t’a fait descendre au sépulcre, au fond de la fosse.]

Three, …yet you shall be brought down to the depths of the pit! Isaiah chapter 14. What good was it being in a foreign language when it was content he knew if he listened calmly! When Ulrike withdrew the magical power he had concentrated in his ears, the sound that had been clear just moments before disappeared without a trace, replaced by ordinary human hearing. Lucas’s figure appeared, breaking his concealment magic after understanding the code, and Ulrike ran frantically toward him, grabbed his friend, hoisted him on his shoulder, and mentally rolled the magical formula he had used when climbing trees. Green magical power arose in his hands and legs.

Bang!

They planned to drop Ulrike into the pit. They intended to calculate Ulrike’s coordinates and switch or move them. That wish was denied. Ulrike climbed the tree as easily as a monkey. He climbed trees frantically without dropping the magical formula that functioned like glue and jumped to another tree. He just had to avoid moving in a way that would make his coordinates known. He had to create changes in all three axes.

What was certain was that he couldn’t go down until their prepared long magical formula—that magical formula so continuous it had talisman-like effects—was completely extinguished.

Lucas flicked his fingers without incantation, shooting red magical power to the ground, and said.

“You really do what you say you’ll do.”

“Sorry.”

Ulrike apologized without knowing why, but Lucas answered as if he had known in advance what he would say.

“You don’t need to. Your time is yours.”

“Now I understand what you meant about never having done otherwise.”

Never having done otherwise—meaning never having failed to respect me. You have never failed to respect me. Emptying the storehouse of one’s own life to fill the empty places of the world was this friend’s unique form of respect. The reason he had urged change regarding that was because he hadn’t known about respect. Since he had only thought simply about sharing burdens, he hadn’t known that depth.

However, even if Ulrike could turn back time, she would voice that claim once again.

Ulrike breathed through her mouth while dodging the mages’ attacks. She didn’t miss the moment when the curtain of leaves and branches scattered, leaving scratches on her cheek.

What makes me run? He asks again the question he couldn’t answer earlier. Having lost everything, what moves you? What leads your once-shattered soul forward? A sense of duty toward a friend? The thought that you must save them?

In truth, he knew the answer. Because he had taken up his sword for what he loved, he could no longer remain in the past he had cherished. Now nothing remained except the fact that there was something he loved, but that was enough.

That was everything.

The ability to leave behind what he had loved for the sake of what he loves now was the last love remaining to him. The only love that would remain until the very end. Only the fact that he could constantly look back on the path he had traveled so that this favoritism could return in the most fair way remained to him, and within that singular knowledge was also the fact that on the day this love became arithmetically fair he would cease to love, and only on the day he ceased to love would it become fair, so he could never again return to those days when everything was supremely peaceful, and now he stands shabbily in the middle of the wilderness, having lost the silk he wore, the gold cord around his neck, and the cross in his hand. So saying nothing remained was wrong. He gained by losing. Ulrike smiled even with an empty heart. What he had loved was truly what he had loved and had never been false, so it could not help but be empty. The task of organizing a new heart would be left to the world from today onward. Ulrike knows that even while emptying the storehouse of his own life to fill the empty places of the world, the world also comes to put life into that storehouse. So he had to believe in what could not be seen.

“Thank you for trusting and entrusting me.”

Ulrike spoke to his friend while breathing heavily. The wind that had quickened along with his faster-than-usual running blocked his breath.

“What would have happened if today hadn’t existed? I can’t even imagine. If I hadn’t experienced today’s events, I surely would have remained unchanged, spending tomorrow, the day after, until next month, perhaps even until Christmas.”

He muttered absent-mindedly despite the roar from the ground.

“Or I would have missed my chance and become like Senior Mecklenburg.”

“That person might also be looking for another path.”

“How hopeful.”

Ulrike burst into laughter with wide eyes and spoke in a whisper.

“The fact that even someone older than me can quit what they were doing and turn to another path is hopeful news for my future too. I don’t know anything about what happens after my 18th birthday.”

Everyone’s like that. His friend seemed to answer that way.

“Right…”

Ulrike didn’t descend to the ground but found a path the enemy wouldn’t expect, leaping between trees.

With this much time, wouldn’t something have happened by now.

This time too, he had to believe in what could not be seen. Fear not. Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. The angel had said that. That Malak and messenger had said that. When mages opened portals to summon that messenger, they would repeat the messenger’s words. That was the origin of magic spells. I bring you good tidings of great joy— like this, there should be an angel here now to say these words. But France wouldn’t grant permission. France would reject Germany’s portal request by any means necessary. So he didn’t know whether Germany could catch this signal or not, but even with the feeling of stepping onto a single-log bridge, he had to move forward one step at a time now. The only way to love what you love was to believe in what could not be seen. Ulrike moved his lips.

“Fear not. Behold.”

“…Cet Allemand appelle des renforts! Je viens de m’apercevoir qu’il récite ce sortilège depuis un certain temps!”

“…Non, cela ne sert à rien. C’est un sortilège qui n’a point d’effet….”

That German is calling for reinforcements. I just noticed he’s been reciting that spell for a while now. —No, it’s ineffective. It’s a spell with no effect. Ulrike finally succeeded in interpreting it.

“I bring good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people…”

—…Fear not, behold. I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people.

Which shall be to all people. Frozen, Ulrike delayed moving his vocal cords. Multiple incantations in unfamiliar voices could be heard faintly. Had he finally gone mad? He could only hope he hadn’t gone insane. It couldn’t end already. He knew well what was holding onto him.

Ulrike stopped at one tree and planted his feet in an appropriate spot. He bent his head back against the cool wind that blew. Magical power made of air floated in midair as if lifted high because the height of the ground couldn’t be determined. The waves emanating from that unstable rippling created wind. It began to take on mirror-like windows that occupied one wall of the palace.

The figures of Narke and the royalty behind her, Leo’s face, came into view. Narke’s white hair fluttered in the wind.

The messenger who had finally arrived leaned forward using his staff as a walking stick and extended his hand.

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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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