How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 583

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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 (583)

After Hildegard Wittelsbach left, I immediately went to find the administrative office and wandered around the building for quite some time. After finally finding the administrative office, I sat in a waiting chair for a while until my number was called and I sat in front of the counter. The employee asked without even looking at me.

“What brings you here?”

“I’d like to receive a copy of documents with my personal information.”

The employee looked at me with a face that said ‘what’s this guy talking about.’ I also quietly stared back at him. Since I had said everything I needed to say and had nothing more to add, I remained silent with the thought of ‘so what now,’ and the employee, perhaps frustrated, spoke first.

“Are you talking about an enrollment certificate?”

“That would be good too.”

“‘That would be good too’? You need to tell me exactly what kind of document you need.”

“Anything. As long as it has my home address, department, and year written on it. Or please give me all the documents I can receive right now.”

Judging by the employee’s eyes, he seemed to briefly consider whether to kick me out or not. However, he quickly went to the bookshelf behind him.

The atmosphere became heavy somewhere, and when I turned my head, the students sitting around were frozen and looking at me with wary eyes. It was a bewildering gaze. At the same time, it was a gaze I was already accustomed to. I was feeling once again what I had felt as Lucas Ascanien. I sat in my seat and waited until the employee prepared all the documents.

Since there was nothing to do, I had to think. Think.

If Hildegard Wittelsbach were an ordinary person, he would think it’s none of his business whether I show strange behavior or not and wouldn’t interfere. Of course, even if an ordinary person saw Lucas Laplace’s change, this would be treated as drinking conversation material. How interesting would it sound to a third party who knows nothing that a Human who was being bullied shook off three powerful mages and came out? Whether it’s true or not, they would offer speculation that he somehow seemed to use magic, and the fact that I fought purely with fists would sound even less credible than magic. Anyway, there’s nothing as far from the truth as the words spouted by those who don’t know properly but believe they know everything, but such collective barbarism is the foundation of murder, which is worth being wary of. In other words, if it were 1898, I could be reported to the authorities regardless of the facts.

But since it’s before the establishment of the German Empire now, I don’t need to worry about being persecuted for being a Human mage. This year is…

“What year is it now? 185… what year?”

I leaned toward the student sitting next to me and asked. The student looked at me with confusion and answered.

“It’s 1851.”

Good. Twenty years left until unification. This point is the same as the world without magic. The German Empire doesn’t exist in the world, and there are Prussia, Bavaria, and several German principalities. In other words…

If it’s revealed that I’m a mage, instead of being persecuted by the government, I could be dragged away without notice to be used as a soldier for the Kingdom of Bavaria. Isn’t magical power national power? They can’t yet recklessly mass-produce people for various reasons to increase national power, but they have to squeeze existing people to the bone.

And that official is at this school. Someone who can drag me to the military.

Suddenly thinking of the middle-aged Hildegard Wittelsbach who had tried to recruit Lukas Everett, I felt myself smile while also feeling creeped out.

Now, to continue the thought I was having earlier, what I need to think about now is that Hildegard Wittelsbach shows behavior similar to someone I know, though to a much lesser degree. Then why? Because one of the many conclusions drawn in that Wittelsbach’s mind bothered him. He had set up the hypothesis that I might have used magic to take down those three thugs. I don’t know any other reasons for his conversation with me. There might not be any. Hildegard Wittelsbach doesn’t pursue me as intensely as Leonard Wittelsbach, but by nature, he won’t give up on knowing the answer until the question he once had is cleanly resolved. Because he has never once failed to obtain information. In short, it’s not because of any special reason, but rather the phrase ‘got caught at the wrong time’ fits perfectly.

For me, who had to get caught at the wrong time, this is welcome. The strange threat and discomfort I didn’t sense from Leonard still remains in my heart, but…

It was only one conversation, so I can’t be relieved. It’s too early to compare with Leonard, who was much more aggressive. Even if his approach is confusing now, this might be the first and last time. If he uses the intelligence agency, there would be no need for further contact with me.

“Hmm.”

This won’t do. I cleared my throat and blinked slowly. This isn’t the time to be bewildered, but the time for me to actively welcome it. I have to go meet Leonard in 5 minutes, so I hope I can make progress in my relationship with Hildegard Wittelsbach before then… After thinking this, all sorts of plans to approach Hildegard Wittelsbach began to take shape in my mind.

Then, the employee approached me with a bundle of papers.

* * *

I lived in the school dormitory and was a first-year student who had just enrolled. Somehow I was taking classes with 2nd and 3rd year students, and despite that, my grades were so good I seemed like an exchange student sent by the state. I wonder why I hadn’t been speaking German.

I looked through various documents and followed the dormitory map I had obtained from the employee.

The air here is cold, cold, and cold again. Having been in spring and then dropped into winter, I’m so cold that’s all I can think about. I took out the key hidden deep inside my bag and stood in front of the wooden door marked 203. I was thinking of quickly lighting the fireplace and sitting in front of it.

“…Huh.”

I only realized the key wasn’t needed after turning it once in the lock. Following the sound of it turning uselessly, the door handle turned by itself and the door opened wide. I narrowed my eyes seeing three familiar Germans sitting on the bed and chair. Actually, it was so natural for only me to be in my house that I didn’t think anyone would be inside. Who would think that school seniors would have a spare key to my room?

“You’re here?”

I looked at the face of the cocky German, then looked down at the key in my hand. I wondered whether to close the door and leave. If I left, was I confident I wouldn’t get caught? Yes. Get caught? Me? By them? However, it would obviously become noisy, and endlessly running away would eventually end up advertising bad things to the entire school.

So I shouldn’t leave. If I don’t leave? Should I control their minds with magic? There are risk factors. I could easily conclude that I shouldn’t use magic yet for my goals. Then should I beat them up? I’m mentally reluctant. Beyond the ethical dimension, this could also slightly disrupt my plans under Wittelsbach’s surveillance. Then?

“I don’t know why you’re here.”

I spoke toward the German who had jumped out of bed in an instant, and as soon as I finished speaking, I reflexively bent over from the pain hitting my abdomen. Even before the shoe fully connected. There are no wounds on my abdomen here, but day-old wariness is this frightening. Magic power that flew from somewhere kicked my shin, almost making me fall to the floor. Magic power struck under my chin and lifted me up. I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed the magic power in the air and twisted my body while gesturing that I wanted to talk. Otherwise, I would have to beat them up again to survive, and since I don’t enjoy hitting people, I wanted to avoid such choices. Someone put their hand between my hair and tilted my head back. Looking at them expressionlessly, I used the newly learned information—they are 3rd year students—to speak politely.

“I’m sorry about earlier. Senior. Let’s talk now.”

“What should you do?”

“What?”

“What should you do when you see us?”

Ah, how would I know, just get lost you bastards… I wanted to say, but I couldn’t anymore. Adding fuel to a burning house, such irrationality couldn’t be allowed. As I kept my mouth shut, one person pushed my forehead with his finger.

“Where did the book go?”

“If you mean trauma medicine, it’s in my cabinet.”

“No, I mean how did this guy’s speech become so fluent overnight? Where did ‘Ofer lyohen’ go? ‘Nisht shlazang.'”

The Germans giggled with faces full of anticipation for my reaction. I opened my mouth and looked up at them, then let out a hollow breath in disbelief. I understand why Lucas Laplace didn’t speak German. They were scratching nerves by imitating the distinctive German pronunciation of French people. They had given up even the minimum conscience to mimic words meaning ‘don’t do it’ and ‘don’t hit me.’ If they’re 3rd years, how old are they? Early twenties. Haven’t their heads hardened yet? Probably not. I really, truly don’t like violence. I don’t, but…

One German sneered.

“Say some more.”

“Yes, what should I say?”

At that moment, I hit my head against the wall. It wasn’t my will. I was gradually getting absurd and scrunched my eyes while cursing inwardly.

“Damn…”

“Comfortable? This goose bastard’s way of speaking is comfortable now?”

“He wants to use ‘du.’ He’s dissatisfied that only we use ‘du.'”

“Ah, that’s what it was. He’s become a complete German, so we should do Brüderschaft to celebrate.”

The moment the word Brüderschaft came out, I almost threw up. Brotherhood? Certainly, it is that era. It’s not strange for Espers to use the word ‘brotherhood.’ In the same context that ‘brothers’ in Korean can encompass both men and women in meaning, they don’t create new words but freely convert existing gender-restrictive words to neutral meanings. However, the Brüderschaft they’re talking about in this context is more of a culture called Brüderschafttrinken rather than literal brotherhood—a drinking ritual mainly performed to switch from formal to informal speech between appropriately acquainted people.

But they want me to speak informally with these kinds of people as brothers?

“Ugh… Ughhhhh! Do you have the confidence to kiss this guy? How dare you perform a brotherhood ceremony with a frog-eating Frenchman?”

One person shuddered while grabbing his forearm and shouted. I’m the one using formal speech and I’m the only one who can speak informally through Brüderschaft, but they’re talking nonsense among themselves, making me sneer.

“No way, you XX. What kind of talk is that? You’ll catch frog disease.”

“I was shocked. You were the nicest to Lucas Laplace among us anyway.”

“Exactly. Look, you were probably joking, but seriously speaking, if you’re confident about accepting this kind of Frenchman as our brother, you’re expelled.”

“What? Who decides expulsion? When was I ever nice to him?”

“Well, when we took his cash, you only took his textbooks!”

Do I have to watch all this damn conversation… Is this a conversation between intellectuals?

I was looking into space thinking about when their commotion would end when I was suddenly grabbed and pulled up. More precisely, I was dragged. The guys who had been arguing with each other but somehow reconciled seemed to have made some resolution and marched out of the room with the door wide open. I was dragged along rolling by the magic power squeezing my neck and barely managed to get up. I tried to stand but due to the short magic power, my steps got tangled and I fell again. Muttering curses, I somehow tried to pull the solidified magic power forward to secure breathing space. As it became noisy with coughing sounds and their voices, students passing through the corridor were surprised, widened their eyes, and frowned. They don’t even try to stop them and just stick close to the walls. I thought the external pressure would soon burst my head as I strained my neck to breathe. It wouldn’t be a very pleasant sight. I understand why Laplace was famous. These bastards don’t play quietly but drag him around, so of course he’s famous…

I squinted while looking around with the corner of my eye as my face contorted from suffocation. I’m almost lying down being dragged, but no one thinks to help. I believed there would be spare formal wear in the dormitory and began not caring whether my clothes got torn from friction heat. I should gradually modify my strategy according to the situation, and I was thinking of using this once too. I concentrated magic power in my ears. What I needed to know now was people’s attitudes toward Luca Laplace.

“…Prince?”

“…He’s probably in class doing this. Or like last time…”

Like last time? I wanted to hear more but they ran too fast for that. I hear other people’s words.

“…He’s a 1st year. When new students come, he also…”

Still, I hear someone muttering to a friend, wondering if there are people who find this scene unfamiliar. When new students come, what? When new students come, these seniors will bully other guys so he’ll be free? New students deserve to be hazed? Geez. Thinking this while being dragged along, the magic power suddenly curved and threw me to the ground. It’s the middle of the campus. The cold energy of the grass seeps into my cheek. Without a moment to breathe, magic power wrapped around me from a different angle and grabbed my jawbone to lift me up again. I grabbed the magic power mass and twisted my body to create breathing space while getting up with my knees on the ground. One German tapped the back of my head while speaking.

“Say something. You spoke German well.”

“Hahaha!”

“Can’t speak again in front of people? Show us.”

There’s a bastard who blocks the throat and tells me to speak. Look at that personality… I felt tears blur my vision from reflex action as I tilted my head back. Of course they wouldn’t listen. From far away, I heard an older person’s voice.

“What’s happening there?”

“Don’t worry, Professor. It’s just part of brotherhood. Seniors should properly educate juniors.”

This German only released the solidified magic power when my vision became dizzy. I supported myself on the ground and coughed for a while, catching my breath. I spat and squeezed my eyes, and gradually the clarity of my vision increased along with my mind becoming clearer.

Unlike Lucas Ascanien who was just an avoidance target, Luca Laplace doesn’t stop at being an avoidance target but has physical danger layered on top. There must have been plenty of incidents like this before, right? Lucas Ascanien had no such physical difficulties except after I entered. Even at this moment, not only Luca Laplace but students living like this in schools across the country, and thinking about that made me sigh and want to beat these bastards once each, but that was just one of the thoughts that didn’t seem quite like mine, and my somewhat refined consciousness deeply lamented the fact that such ignorant people exist. It’s all pitiful. Just pitiful… I carefully pulled down my cravat. I made eye contact with students watching me from the front. Some of their gazes turned toward behind me.

The moment I began to feel pressure from what seemed to be a shoe on my back, I turned my upper body and grabbed the opponent’s calf.

“Uh, wait—!”

What’s the point of screaming now? The guy loses his balance and falls with his mouth open. I climbed on top of the opponent and threw a punch at his chin. On the second hit, his lips burst. When the panicked guy started struggling and using magic power, I hit the other side of his chin once more and immediately turned my body to the right. A wand is pointing at me. I reflexively lowered my body and flew toward that direction, throwing a punch. Linear magic power flowing like water, he can’t even properly choose what formula to use. Magic-induced wind brushes past my nose. The guy barely dodged and thrust his wand once more. I can just dodge this kind of magic power too. When I was on the left side and then dug into the right side, the guy reflexively tried to grab the back of my head with his wand-holding hand to pull me away. Success. I tripped him with my foot. As I pressed the pulse point on his neck with one hand and raised my fist, the guy widened his eyes and screamed.

“This bastard…!”

Pain pushing my side suddenly hit. At that moment another guy kicked me, but unfortunately, his strength is insufficient. Compared to the most well-built student I know, this kind of kicking is nothing. I’m grateful that student rolled me hard in every training session, making me gain deep expertise in physical fights unlike the peaceful 21st century. As the lying person tried to get up with a lion’s roar, I punched his temple and got up from my position.

“…Huh.”

When I got up, the students who had been watching around stepped back one or two steps, flustered by the unexpected situation. I don’t care. If you’re a battle mage and can’t take down a weak medical student, that’s the problem. Those who just realized the situation from far away are running over, but I can’t tell who they are. In the freshman hazing culture that even professors just accept, there shouldn’t be anyone coming to stop this, right? Especially in this era, freshmen often received such treatment. Or maybe it’s not for me but just telling us not to make a commotion?

There’s time before they reach here. My eyes found the guy I hit first. He also can’t rashly charge in and is just using magic from a distance. I took some of the magic power raining around me and dodged some while throwing a punch at the guy who had been kicking right next to me. He turned his body to the side in surprise to dodge. He even does physical fighting, how pretentious. The guy’s next move is obvious. I stepped back and dodged the incoming punch, then lowered my body sharply and charged at the guy’s solar plexus.

None of them can put strength in their legs. They’re guys who don’t know how to fight.

“Uh, wait!”

“Wait?”

I pushed his tilted shoulder to the side and slammed the back of his head against the blunt horizontal bar fence of the flower bed. I hear screams of agony. I immediately lowered my body backward to dodge the punch of the guy charging from behind. When it didn’t work, he created distance. I jumped over the magic power of unknown origin flying at my legs and charged while kicking. I put strength into my legs, pressed down hard, and thrust my arm that I had pulled back forward.

With the sound of something breaking, my vision slowed down. The guy fell backward while grabbing his nose. He fell to the ground and let out an exaggerated scream. I can’t tell if he’s screaming in irritation, pain, or if it hurts but he’s letting out exaggerated screams to increase my punishment. I don’t particularly want to know and didn’t need to know. When I approached the guy still holding a wand, he couldn’t even think of getting up and just screamed while backing away.

“Duel! Let’s duel! Fight like a man with schläger! You don’t want to? You don’t want to? You can’t say anything because you’re scared! You’re afraid of getting scars on your face!”

To be human, we should compete with virtuous conversation, not swords. I clenched my fist and grabbed the guy’s hair.

“Wait, stop, just wait—”

“If you’re so proud of scars from schläger, let me give you one right now.”

“Ah, ahhhhh—! Just wait!”

I thrust my fist that I had pulled taut upward to right in front of his nose and stopped. Then I flicked my hand. The guy trembling opened his tightly shut eyes. I smiled and let go of his head that I had been gripping.

“Just kidding, Senior. You’re quite timid.”

The student nodded with a half-dazed expression on his face. The students who had been watching also stood there in a daze before getting excited with faces that had found good gossip material, chattering among themselves as they began to disperse. The voices that had been murmuring continuously from behind could now be heard clearly.

“Hey there! I said stop it!”

Then the Germans stiffened and looked up, asking among themselves.

“Isn’t it time for His Highness the Prince to attend class?! Check the schedule properly…!”

“You bastard, did you lose your damn mind? We don’t care about that right now. We got beaten up! Over here! Here!”

However, these people who came running in unfamiliar uniforms glanced at me briefly, then instead began taking away the senior mages who had been beaten by me. The German looked bewildered and then shouted.

“You shouldn’t be taking us away, you should be taking that frog-eating bastard!”

The sound fades out… I chuckled, mimicking the end of his words. One of the uniformed people now stood before me. Since he was looking at me as if demanding an explanation, I smiled with an exemplary expression and answered.

“It’s part of brotherhood, Your Excellency.”

He just looked at me silently. Like someone who felt no confusion even at this sudden change. The reason was obvious.

These people were neither police nor school staff, but likely attendants of Hildegart Wittelsbach. They had come following orders.

Listening to what the German mage senior said, they had been tormenting Lucas Laplace only during times when the prince couldn’t know about the outside situation. That means when the prince had leisure time, they had already been sanctioned several times. The cultural level of treating freshmen in the 1850s casually condoned such violence, so there was no reason for those shameless bastards to greatly avoid it just because the prince was there. If the prince had seen it and remained still, they would have openly tormented him under the pretext of entertaining the prince. Then was their effort not to leave bruises on the face also an attempt not to displease Hildegart Wittelsbach?

That must be it. There were no Laplace family elders here, and in the case of human male students, it wasn’t an era when neighborhood adults or professors would find it strange if some results of fighting remained on their faces. This was purely the result of being mindful of the prince who drew the line on this phenomenon.

Then…

What about this time? The prince has a schedule now. Since he had a schedule, those three also felt free to use force. But his attendants discovered this scene and stopped us.

The answer was obvious from the start. Unlike before, today Hildegart Wittelsbach had his attendants monitor me. He sent people who should have been by his side to me. He was taking trouble he hadn’t bothered with before.

I pressed my lips together, feeling uneasy as I looked at the bloodstains remaining on the ground. When it comes to carrying out plans, the most realistic response to these hierarchy-obsessed people who constantly interfere is to completely overturn the hierarchy from the very beginning. It’s not that it’s a good method, but in this crazy era where being a foreign freshman gives violence legitimate justification—that is, in a situation where neither police nor professors can rescue me—the limitations are clear. However, while I didn’t feel sorry for the seniors who had been violent enough to warrant immediate prosecution, there was no reason to dirty my ethics and emotions by excessively punishing them. These people wouldn’t need hospitalization either; if they got treatment today, they would suffer during meals for about a week or two before healing completely. As long as the necessary impression was made, I didn’t want any response beyond that. I just needed enough control to make them stop their bullying.

One more thing.

According to the plan modified midway, Prince Hildegart Wittelsbach would soon be informed of what happened now. For that purpose, I used only my fists without magic. The key issue still lies here—will he step forward directly like before, or will he merely observe by using people like now? If so, until when?

I didn’t have a trigger as powerful for Hildegart Wittelsbach as the one I had used on Leonard Wittelsbach. Therefore, my expectation is the latter. Hildegart Wittelsbach will not appear directly before me in the future. I have neither reason nor value for him to do so. The me that Hildegart Wittelsbach sees is not an important figure, but merely a suspicious first-year student. The strategy I used with Leonard Wittelsbach no longer works.

I checked my watch and looked up.

So, how can I now draw the prince’s attention?

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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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