How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 589

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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 (589)

Catching my breath was an act that clearly imprinted the sensation of being toyed with in Hildegard Wittelsbach’s grasp. The faster my diaphragm pushed out and collapsed, the more my entire body’s senses sharpened to that fact. As he watched me with interest, I couldn’t erase the thought I had inwardly when I first met Leonard Wittelsbach. Ah, this guy’s personality is quite something to behold. He’s no pushover. The fact that his friend’s temperament wasn’t gentle as his reputation suggested, but rather was someone who viciously never let go of what he sank his teeth into—I felt the same on the day I received the artifact from him, and on the day he cast divine-like power on himself. I knew it from documents even earlier. I feel that same sensation from Hildegard Wittelsbach today. This time, not as an ally.

“Mm.”

What are you doing, not leaving? Duke Henri might purge you at this rate. With such meaning, the prince urged me on with his leisurely voice. I threw my gaze into the air without any thought of moving my body that had long since stiffened. Hildegard Wittelsbach’s hand on my waist felt exactly like a farewell greeting.

I think the point where they find amusement is truly wicked. Julia Zehringen flashed through my mind. If it were the Julia I know, she wouldn’t be watching me with interest right now. That said, she’s not a friend who would worry about me, but she would look at me with a studying gaze. His amusement, while certainly bewildering enough to make me laugh bitterly, was within a range I could reasonably accept, while their pleasure spans an area that’s truly absurd for me to accept. But to be honest, I could understand them. That’s what makes competitive spirit boil up from deep within me. I too know why they find it amusing, and why they look down at me with interest…

“Your Highness has many similarities with me.”

“I think so too.”

He resembled me in that his stubbornness and interests had never been corrected. However, I didn’t want to say we were alike in other aspects. I don’t see Hildegard and Leonard as the same person, nor could I. Yet I hope Hildegard doesn’t resemble me. I smiled and turned my head.

I turned my gaze to the clear sound of glass clinking. Hildegard Wittelsbach whispered while touching his glass to mine.

“That seems to have been an answer that didn’t please you.”

I simply remained calm, entrusting my breathing rhythm to the pounding sound that rang in my eardrums. Hildegard Wittelsbach quietly looked at me. He would want to know what kind of mindset it was to speak first but then not want a response. I muttered while looking straight ahead.

“…What to do. To tell you the reason would be rather expensive.”

“That’s an outdated joke.”

“Indeed it is.”

The air stimulates my senses like light flashing on a blade’s edge. The people passing by nearby, their clinging gazes, Hildegard Wittelsbach’s kind reprieve, and his touch all irritate me. Even so, that’s ultimately none of my concern.

So, what will I do? How will I break through this situation? By convention, I should bow my head to Hildegard Wittelsbach and beg—please spare my life somehow. Henri is already a severed string for Laplace. Henri became suspicious of me from the moment the Bavarian prince brought a French commoner, so in this situation, going to Henri and asking him to take me to France would be meaningless. Even going to France, torture is scheduled.

Why? Because Henri deliberately chose Luca Laplace as a spy. Someone whose possibility of getting along with the prince converged to zero.

Luca is shy and not accustomed to speaking German. He’s not suitable for making friends. That means there’s less chance of verbal mistakes too. If they had sent an ordinary social butterfly here, he would have attended drinking parties that were caught every time, making him several times more likely to make verbal mistakes compared to Laplace. While Henri’s plan probably didn’t extend to Laplace being bullied by seniors and becoming unable to speak German, Henri basically intended to plant a ghost-like student and receive reports on movements. I don’t think he was an important enough spy to function beyond delivering news.

Henri must have realized the prince had seen through the plan when he saw the prince bring me, so Henri will ask how much the prince found out from me. If he’s sensible, he’ll cut ties with me after that. He’ll probably kill me. Hildegard’s intimate gesture pushing me into deeper crisis. My skin grows cold, but where the blade that will kill me rests on my waist is hot. I can picture Henri’s gaze clinging to that spot. Hildegard Wittelsbach removed his hand and slowly pressed my shoulder, chest, and forearm. I don’t know what he’s doing.

In other words, I should crawl to Hildegard Wittelsbach as I first thought and beg him to please spare my life. How amusing it must have been. That I brazenly demanded he watch for 30 days without knowing anything?

The drug’s effect is trying to bring me to my knees right now. Is this insane. I recognized my knees trembling from the drug Hildegard fed me, regardless of my will, and pressed down hard on the floor. Hildegard’s gaze fell downward then rose leisurely.

“Let me speak honestly.”

Truly an eon-like time.

“The fact that I can actually use divine power, albeit weakly, and that I’m not a beginner at German but fluent like a native speaker, must have strengthened Your Highness’s hypothesis. I think so too. However.”

I continued speaking while looking at Hildegard Wittelsbach’s sharp eye corners and the cold pupils between them.

“I forgot.”

Only silence.

“What that person contracted with me. I only began to guess it 5 minutes ago.”

It’s probably neither the answer he wants nor expects, but it’s the truth.

How will he respond?

Hildegard Wittelsbach set down his glass on the table with a graceful motion and took the wine glass from my hand. He casually drank the wine I had been drinking while fixing his gaze on me. He has the leisure to wet his lips first, roll it in his mouth, and swallow. The nape of my neck grows eerie at pupils where the boundary between pupil and iris is clearly visible. He enjoyed the taste before removing the glass, and only then cast his gaze elsewhere. He smiled faintly while patting my shoulder blade.

“If you guessed rather than recovered your memory, then this attempt was also fruitless. I wonder when we’ll be able to find Lord Laplace’s memory.”

* * *

That was what he always said to me. For the past three days, while taking me to various places to help me find my memory, when I said I remembered nothing, he would smile like that and give leisurely responses like we should look for other places.

I sat at the same table as him and Duke Henri for meals, and when they had audiences with the king to discuss business, I couldn’t be with them so I waited in the reception room.

The Munich Residenz of 1898 was decorated according to Hildegard Wittelsbach’s taste. The Munich Residenz of 1851 looked more like ancient ruins, and being winter, wool carpets were laid and tapestry curtains more splendid than summer hung everywhere.

I hope Hildegard doesn’t resemble me. While waiting for the conversation to end, I reviewed the bewildering thought that had suddenly occurred to me. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed to come from an embarrassing syllogism. Simply from the point that I often saw overlaps between Hildegard and the image he had passed down to Leonard, I seemed to hope that like Leonard, who finds ecstasy and pleasure in places that would leave one speechless like Hildegard, he had few similarities with me in other aspects. It’s not that I want to define Prince Hildegard as I please, but because I hope Leonard Wittelsbach, who inherited so many traits from Hildegard, doesn’t resemble me.

He’s different. Different. My friend has never been swept away by the ambivalence of his traits, running wild in doubt. Traits that become subjects of treatment and correction in some places, are envied in others, admired in some, hated in others, with external reactions constantly changing, leaving me bewildered—while everything in the world might be treated that way, for some reason I wandered as a result of those traits. He treated his traits as reasonably divisible traits and approached his life in ways that didn’t deviate from common sense. If he was born with coldness, he wasn’t subject to special value judgments about it, but instead took practical approaches to properly sublimate it. Even if he had decent talent in magical medicine but no special talent in combat magic and just average skills, he worked endlessly to catch up with natural combat mages. The fact that he could acknowledge his shortcomings and work desperately might be both talent and a posthumously inherited legacy, but the fact that he built the biggest pillars of his life remains unchanged. For that reason, even if he worked hard to become as good as others or better than others, the basic way of thinking that moves him doesn’t deviate from the emotions of a textbook hard worker, and so my reasoning continues like this.

It’s not that he loves the standard because all his circumstances are standard, but because he has the same way of thinking as the smallest unit of people who silently perform their daily routines and turn the great world even when nothing seems likely to change, he doesn’t have the sentiment of being a special—strange—being. He doesn’t love the standard to suppress it because he recognizes himself as an outlier in either positive or negative terms… Except for duties related to status, as human to human, he’s never thought himself greatly different from others. Or because he thinks such differences are what everyone has, he doesn’t place deep meaning there. I felt a stabbing sensation somewhere in my heart. As far as I know, that’s the difference between me and Leonard. And the common ground that allows me and Elias to look into each other’s eyes deeply, even from the position of strangers, lies on the opposite side of such differences.

This is taking quite a while. No matter how slowly I think, when I look at the clock, not even 3 minutes have passed. Even so, it’s now been nearly two hours since the prince and Duke Henri went in to see the king, but a conversation for two hours? Thinking that, I predicted Hildegard Wittelsbach’s next move while continuing my thoughts in one corner of my brain.

The reason I gain strength from Leonard is because he’s different from me. Different, and while remaining different, he personally shows that we can respect each other as humans, that even in areas where understanding isn’t possible, people can respect people as they are. They could avoid reverence, disgust, subtle expectations, or looking down with disdain. My Copernican revolution came through him, who overturned my beliefs. I had thought the sun revolved around the earth, but actually the earth revolved around the sun. Copernicus’s discovery, which broke the firm beliefs of religion and was sometimes used as a tool to attack religion, ironically made me know hope. The single thing religion wants to convey—hope that makes faith possible, the heart that seeks the hope that was at religion’s origin.

All the thoughts I had on the church rooftop are based on this. I should tell him directly someday. I think in turn of Leonard who must be outside, Haike who must be at the hospital here, and other friends who must still be in Italy. He can’t know without me telling him, and I had no intention of losing what I gained only after one ending and regretting it.

So I can’t say Leonard Wittelsbach resembles me in every aspect, nor could I. Since Hildegard Wittelsbach is a separate person from him, it doesn’t matter whether he resembles me or not, but…

I moved my lips and laughed bitterly. Anxiety remains as lingering attachment to thoughts that couldn’t be concluded.

It’s not only Leonard who becomes foolish. Before a friendship I don’t want to lose, even when there’s no sign of losing it, I was having laughable thoughts. Such absurd syllogisms weren’t what I usually engaged in.

Whatever the case, emotion and reason moved differently. Since they share many things but are different people, I intend not to reach a conclusion until I know more about Hildegard Wittelsbach. Especially since Hildegard Wittelsbach of this period was someone filled with coldness, as if proving his changes came through constant effort and self-reflection.

Tick, tock, tick… The sound of the second hand scrapes the floor. I kept looking at the clock. Having some refreshments, it’s now been two hours. At this point, something comes to mind. It has been for a while.

Then, the door opened. Blue uniform. A servant of the Munich Residenz spoke to me.

“Excuse me. Lord Laplace, it’s time for your appointment.”

Appointment when? I looked at the servant absurdly, then looked at the clock again. I slowly nodded and rose from my seat.

* * *

The place the servant took me was another room in the Munich Residenz. A space where I couldn’t tell much difference.

Naturally, Henri was in the room. Henri and several mages in formal wear. I knew and followed. Why would he who should be having an audience with the king be sitting here? Because the meeting with the king had long since ended. The moment I was about to say, “Greetings, Your Highness Henri,” I trembled from intense pain in my left arm. I was momentarily startled and couldn’t make a sound. As I held my arm with a bewildered face, Henri pointed to the sofa in front of him with a stern expression. I did as instructed. I couldn’t very well keep standing.

Intense pain struck again, and I bent over. The inside of my left arm, near the elbow, tingled as if electrified. Ah, damn. I gradually had no choice but to realize. I now understood why Prince Hildegard had pressed my forearm and shoulder hard. He hadn’t done meaningless things. He had already predicted something would be planted in me. I swallowed and looked at Henri and the mages beside him. The mage standing to Henri’s right asked in French.

“Why are you here?”

“…”

When I didn’t answer, he flicked his hand. The irritated exclamation of “Ah” was quickly swallowed. My arm felt like it would tear, so I deliberately kept my mouth shut and looked at him. I could feel blood rushing to my face from gritting my teeth.

“I asked why you’re here. Have you forgotten your original promise?”

“Yes. I forgot.”

I answered truthfully while putting strength in my throat.

“I remember nothing.”

Then the mage exchanged glances with Henri. Their expressions grew increasingly serious. Surely they would think this—they would believe my memory had been wiped after the prince had already extracted everything from me. France is a great power incomparable to Bavaria. This way, there’s no guarantee the relationship between France and Bavaria would remain as it is now during the Bourbon reign. I had unintentionally caused trouble for Bavaria. The pain striking my arm made my body twist. I wanted to scream. Blood circulated too quickly, making my vision flash white. A mage said a word.

“Your Highness Henri.”

Then Henri, who had been sitting with a displeased face putting on airs, nodded. Someone chanted and flicked their hand. I couldn’t move my left arm. My left arm stuck to the sofa so I couldn’t even get up. It was truly a useful restraint.

“You broke your promise.”

Henri clasped his hands and leaned forward, whispering. They’re being careful with words even under silencing magic, knowing this is the heart of Munich. I looked up at him with my body tilted, eyes wide from the pain that magical power created between my muscles. Henri maintained a gentlemanly attitude and spoke as if regretful.

“I have no intention of doing anything major here. That wouldn’t be proper. I’ll give you a chance, so return to France immediately tomorrow. But before that, there’s something I need to know. I hope you’ll cooperate briefly.”

“No, wait just a moment.”

I barely managed to speak while holding my breath.

Speaking softly isn’t everything. Henri pretends not to be angry thinking of appearances, but I can immediately tell he’s being petty from the start.

But there was no way he would listen to a timid 19-year-old commoner. It was natural. I had to endure this knowing I would experience such things by coming. Tears were coming from simple pain regardless of my will—a novel experience. That’s probably because the pain isn’t a single strike and retreat, but continuous like being stabbed with multiple needles.

Looking down at my left arm that had sunk as if paralyzed through blurred vision, I raised my head. Light burst from the wand thrust at my forehead.

—Enter through the narrow gate.

I held my breath looking at the wand of one who wore ordinary formal wear, unrecognizable as an arcane mage. Confusion spread across his face. He shouted again solemnly as if facing Satan.

—Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it!

The light shot at my eyes stings my optic nerves. I only squinted while feeling the intense pain in my left arm. When I didn’t faint, his pupils wandered. The faces of those standing beside Henri now moved between me and the wand as if noticing something strange. Henri raised one eyebrow and stuck his head toward me.

“What’s this?”

“No, wait…”

The arcane mage hurriedly shouted once more.

—Watch out for false prophets! They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit…

My gaze shot to Henri. One mage carefully released magical power. So minutely that only an excellent mage could detect it. Henri began uncrossing his arms and uncrossing his legs. As if…

Like a signal.

The moment Henri’s shoe touched the ground, the mages’ wands rose in unison. Their legs stepped back and thick silencing magic surrounded us. Thousands of small blades that instantly spread through the air and multiplied pointed only at me. My eyes widened and my lips parted. The wind created by magical power slightly scattered my swept-back hair. I mustn’t let my gaze be distracted even for an instant. Because.

“Kuk—”

My neck snapped back over the sofa. The magical power that struck before the blades pushed my upper body while a roar burst from beneath my feet.

—Give.

As I snapped my fallen head back up, the sight of mages staggering and being pushed back stretched slowly. The magical power pressing my arm stopped briefly. I rose from my seat and thrust my arm instead of a wand.

—And it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap!

“…! Aaaaah!”

The blue-green magical blades began returning. The impact was instantaneous. They all crashed into one mage standing behind Henri. It shouldn’t hurt since it’s his own magical power, but what an act. Knowing he couldn’t subdue me with magical power, one mage rushed at me. Quick judgment. The biggest mistake combat mages make when engaging in physical fights is that they habitually try to maintain more than a certain distance…

They let their opponent take the initiative. Having kicked off the ground and quickly reached him, I grabbed his head and threw him to the floor.

“Uh, uh, aaaaah!”

Magical power burst from his body like blood. Before he could bounce back up, I kicked his chest and flicked my hand. The wand in his grasp stuck to my hand like a magnet.

I immediately turned to face the blue-green magical power rushing at me. Then I muttered quietly at it.

—Enter through the narrow gate.

Shocked pupils and mouths opening in unison, but it was too late. The divine power that collided with the magical power gnawed at the magical power’s center. The pushed-back magical power splashed in all directions like water streams. Even though it wasn’t used on people, people’s eyes closed. Knees touched the ground followed by heads falling forward. I stood among the people with rolled-back eyes, slowly catching my breath. Who should I start with? I came here to do this. Begging Hildegard Wittelsbach for my life is orthodox but amateurish. Would I choose such a method? Something that would crash my value?

If Henri would execute me and Prince Hildegard would appreciate me, then choosing who to be executed by, who to beg for life from, would be wrong.

“You didn’t make a promise with me.”

No, you didn’t. You made a promise with Luca Laplace. Not Lucas Laplace. I answer their question now as if talking to myself. Then I remembered where the pain had been. I picked up a blade-like sharp piece from a teacup broken by the magical windstorm and pushed away the flesh of my forearm. I took out the artifact inside, shook it off once, threw it up and caught it. I thought about stepping on it and breaking it, but… I’m thinking of giving this to His Highness Prince Hildegard as a souvenir. Let Bavaria see what kind of techniques Henri has. I grabbed the collar of Henri, who was drooling in sleep, and lifted him up. The magic was cast too weakly, so he flinched and swallowed. Before his pupils could contract, I closed his eyes with my other hand and said quietly.

—Enter through the narrow gate.

“What should I say? How should I put it… Hmm, yes.”

I grabbed his collar and shook him while pressing my thumb against his throat. As I lifted him up, a choking sound escaped. I brought my face close to his and spoke in a proper voice.

“I’m doing well according to your wishes.”

“Ugh…”

“You’ll want to praise Luca Laplace… Though the Prince of Bavaria and their nation won’t comply with your demands, that’s due to their duty to prioritize their people above all else, so there’s no reason for you to feel uncomfortable about it. If you’re a true person, that is. Of course…”

I shifted my gaze to Henri’s lips and whispered.

“So you’re feeling very good today.”

“…”

“Smile.”

Henri’s lips twitched upward in a spasm. I dropped him to the floor and turned my head. Now it was his subordinates’ turn. You won’t doubt what Henri says. His Highness Henri always speaks only the truth. As I was formulating what to say…

I fixed my gaze on one spot.

Someone had arrived without any sign of presence. The door had definitely been locked, but now it was open. To hide one’s presence like that—impressive skill. Hildegard Wittelsbach was leaning against the doorframe at the far end of the room, watching me. Her crossed fingers slowly tapped against her forearm. Emerging from the shadows, our eyes met and she smiled.

“How could this not be interesting?”

“I suppose so, Your Highness.”

I looked at her while wiping the blood flowing like sweat with the inside of my wrist.

“So now I must ask.”

“Speak freely.”

“Your Highness. If you’re going to take me in, now is your chance.”

I smiled crookedly like her and said.

“Will you let it slip away?”

Hildegard Wittelsbach’s lips curved in an arc. Her well-formed face tilted in an exemplary manner.

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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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