How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 601

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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 (601)

Right. Well, what’s the problem? I can use divine power. You want to know why I can use it? I don’t know either. I made a wish and it came to me. I deflected his flying fist with my mana. My blue mana envelops his arm. I quickly pushed the sleeping Rosalie to the back and quietly muttered.

“Honestly, I can clearly see what kind of humans you are and what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Tell me.”

I lowered my wand downward and changed it into a sword. The resistance I feel along the blade changes. I thrust the sword forward like a stab, and he rolls his feet. Wave-like divine power scatters around me with the sword at the front. The grenades contained in the mana I shot rush around him, scattering light. I’ll keep setting them up endlessly. I simply countered with my sword while reciting disruption formulas in one corner of my mind. I whispered while scattering my mana masses in all directions to counter his efforts to position himself.

“Is there even anything to say? Count Blanchart and I are engaged, we’ll be married soon, and you don’t have even as much affection as Count Blanchart, yet you stick by our side and participate in Count Blanchart’s harassment…”

The sound of wind hits my ears. When he caught up to my position, I was already on the opposite side. I scratched my neck and finished speaking.

“You’re just a leech participating in it all.”

I hear the sound of footsteps from over there, then a lowered voice whispers.

“Participating?”

He’s aiming for a move to wake Rosalie. Even if he wakes Rosalie, I can just cast a wide-area sleep magic again, and if that happens, he’ll inevitably suffer some damage too. While he’s reciting magic formulas to wake her, I could counterattack and things could go wrong, and even if he wakes her, it takes time for Rosalie to assess the situation and recite the code, so he doesn’t want to waste even that one second. Both of us try to distract each other’s attention with conversation for even a second, but both try not to fall for it.

Lucien said.

“You’re interpreting our relationship too shallowly.”

“That’s how it looks. Though you’re more of a bastard than that…”

But whether it’s meaningfully complex, I’m not sure about that either. You look like a crazy young man completely obsessed with curiosity. Count Blanchart is the same.

I can’t tell their gender from the name they use. I don’t need to know either. Only their personal physician and clergy would know that. No one else in this world can know or feels the need to know Lucien Noailles’ gender. I don’t particularly want to know either. Whatever gender they have, in a practically genderless Esper society, it holds no more value than fingernail dirt. The problem is that being an Esper, they were born with a body optimized for combat, and they even use divine power, making them definitely burdensome. Esper bodies were made to suit the tastes and needs of this era’s Humans, and naturally not just their appearance but their performance too. Espers and Humans are in an inseparable relationship. Humans are the mothers of Espers, and though I don’t know when it will be, as the flow of the future I experienced tells us, soon they themselves will become Espers too, so the two cannot be separated. Right now Espers think they’re superior to Humans and Humans also think Espers are better than them, but that’s confusion and error from a microscopic perspective. Macroscopically, Humans will become Espers. That’s what these bodies were made for. The current Espers are a prequel. My subjective view differs from the beliefs of people in the microscopic world – I don’t see the prospect that Humans won’t choose to become Espers after gaining freedom and democracy. Doesn’t precedent tell us… it tells us not to repeat the same mistakes. I don’t want to repeat them, and since I can’t stop them alone, I needed the help of fellow Citizens. But how? We know how to escape from the violence of negativity, but we don’t know how to escape from the violence of positivity. How can we escape from the infinite violence of positivity toward ‘something better’ that is invisible, uncatchable, constrains our bodies, and doesn’t blatantly violate our freedom in front of the gift box called the benefits of civilization? As a 21st century person, I had to think about that.

“You’re relaxed.”

A voice from somewhere says. I block the light that suddenly appeared before my eyes with my sword, shake it off, and listen carefully.

“Amazing. Now you’re not afraid of losing to me? You were desperately trying to run away before.”

I have no intention of losing, you pitiful Friend. The problem now isn’t Rosalie, but Lucien Noailles. If Rosalie could use divine power it would be the opposite, but the problem is that Lucien has a body skilled in combat—flexible, fast, and with wide mobility range—and even uses divine power. If this person blocks me while waking Rosalie…

Lucien’s foot flies toward my face with a sharp cutting sound. I bent my waist far back while thrusting my sword forward. Surprising. It’s common sense to place your feet heavily on the ground, but this guy doesn’t care at all and uses even his feet like fists. This is quite different from the guys I saw in Germany? While I was finding it refreshing, he who had planted his foot behind him leaps again. In an instant that can’t even be called a leap, I kicked his foot flying toward me with mana. With a roar, the mana mixed with his mana is reflected back as is. This time I ducked. I got caught. Me.

As I thrust out my right arm to change the sword into a wand and cast a barrier, a loud bang strikes the right side of my face. I brought my left foot down on the floor with a sound and thought.

As expected. He’s not just using his feet. His defense strategy against counterattacks is clear and he knows how to counter with it. While the materialized barrier shatters like glass fragments and cuts my face, my eyes chase the opponent moving in the darkness. I heard French so faint it was hard to understand.

—I shall… reach the land of Chaldea, Babylon.

He abbreviated it. ‘I will also spread my net over him and he will be caught in my snare, and I will bring him… he will die there but will not see that land’. The French converts a bit slowly in my head. Since he can implement magic completely while abbreviating, it must be a formula he’s used skillfully and frequently. Whether it’s illusion or reality, while the sound of the floor breaking surrounds like thunder, I sneer and quickly recite a spell inwardly. O God.

—I will scatter all his guards and troops in every direction and draw the sword to pursue them.

Though the Lord has rejected and scattered us in his anger, now restore us. The mana he cast flashes light in midair then quickly fades, and my eyes scanning the surroundings take on a decent form.

I thrust my left hand toward the sleeping Rosalie while looking at Lucien and muttered inwardly. Why are you so afraid? How is it that you have no faith? Now as long as I don’t lose focus, the divine power trying to reach Rosalie won’t work. She must not be awakened.

Something lightly grazes past my body barrier. His eyes fix on me, and the broken floor shoots up toward the sky. Roars and dust interfere with my senses. He cast a spell without chanting. This guy really was a weapon. Not an ordinary combat Mage who doesn’t hesitate to chant, but someone skilled in assassination and covert operations.

“Kugh…!”

The moment the back of my head hit the floor hard, I cursed inwardly. The heavy foot pressing against my chest pain crushes down as if it will soon break my ribs. The scene of the floor surging up like before was a hallucination. How did I know? Because my unstable body barrier quickly recovered and the illusion he had sent to my head just before falling was extinguished. I twisted my body and grabbed his leg. Divine power transmitted to my heart squeezes my muscles. The foot gradually comes down to the solar plexus that’s hollowed out without ribs.

“Ah, this—”

“Weak reaction.”

A gentle voice flowed out thinly. Weak? Laplace must have screamed quite a lot. My waist lifts off the ground and my center of gravity shifts to my knees and ankles. Despite the increased force pushing with his foot, the divine power he’s sending prevents me from getting up. The heel presses harder on my solar plexus. But some seeds fell among thorns…

“…!”

The thorns grew and choked the seeds… To prevent naturally chanting in German, I inwardly scan the form of the formula and Lucien’s calm face reflexively contorts. Mana must have blocked his leg like thorns embedded in it. I instantly kicked off the ground, straightened my waist and rushed at Lucien who had retreated. Divine power bursts from his hands but it’s already too late. It’s blocked by my body barrier, leaving afterglow. I raised my fist, then, the sound of jawbone turning. Blood bursting from Lucien’s lips stings my nose. He didn’t even cover his mouth with his hand. His eyes wander momentarily from the impact. A 2-second gap. Nevertheless, even though his head must be ringing, he soon looks at my eyes with straight eyes. As if I wouldn’t know what he’ll do. Mana flashes in his eyes.

…and yielded no fruit. I complete the spell with Mark 4:7. Your magic will yield no fruit. In his mind, worldly worries and the temptation of wealth and various desires must have surged—’Those sown among thorns are others who hear the word but desires arise and they yield no fruit’, the context of 4:19 supports 4:7. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. So it’s a divine power spell. Soon he fixes his pupils clearly and looks at me. With my front hoof stepping on his right hand, I press down his left hand with one arm. I place my hand on his forehead, which was again interfered with by my spell. The Lord does not guard the city… The resistance coming through the hand trying to send divine power is fierce. As I try to completely shatter his body barrier, he kicks the ground and chants.

—But.

Light flashes from behind.

—Others fell on good soil.

And grew and increased and yielded thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold. He must be in a hurry, doing it verbally. At Lucien’s chant, I raised an eyebrow. Split-second judgment tells me. The restriction of my ‘yielded no fruit’ will be lifted. It’s already lifted. Before the strong impact hits, I shifted my center of gravity to the leg stepping on his right hand, crushed the bone, and rolled on the floor. I hear death throes as mana the color of his eyes surges up and rushes toward me. I swept my sword to parry the attack and thought.

He knows what magic formula I used even though I didn’t speak the spell. Now he’s defending against my spell with other verses from Mark chapter 4. I should pretend not to know what it means, but this is why the same Christian cultural sphere… It’s nothing special. Mark chapter 4 has a scene where Jesus Christ preaches about faith to his disciples using seed parables, asking if they really can’t understand. I used the verse about seeds that fell among thorns being blocked by thorns and unable to grow, and applied that ‘non-growing seed’ to the opponent. You don’t know the truth and can’t know it, so you can’t attack me. Noticing this, he applies the next verse, seeds that fell on good soil and grew well, to himself. If I knew what formulas were attached to each spell, I wouldn’t need to think about the verses, but since we have knowledge from the same Christian cultural sphere, it’s the opposite. Just from words, I can predict what formulas Scholars would have attached. The formula devours the formula of my mana that had been blocking him. That’s all. As Lucien staggers to his feet, his divine power dominates the space along with air that strongly pushes the body away.

I strike the floor with the staff I changed to, and wind cuts his divine power in half. Wind that shakes the Building as if it will collapse scatters my hair and disturbs my vision. Whether his wand changed to a sword, a sharp blue light flashes briefly. I speak in the noise.

—Others are those sown among thorns.

If he reflects my formula, I will reflect too. It’s a ping-pong strategy too ridiculous to call tactics. As long as he gets drawn in, I’ll go easily, so likewise, I’ll settle this with Mark chapter 4 again this time too.

If you do not understand this parable, how will you understand all the parables? But others are like seed sown on good soil… They hear the word and accept it and bear fruit thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold. That’s me. Since I said it, I will become it, and by faith I will do the work of striking you. He still doesn’t speak. Does he have confidence to produce maximum output without chanting? I wonder. He starts avoiding close combat. Since there were losses to his right arm and head, approaching with physical fighting is disadvantageous. Instead, he tries to pierce needle-like attacks into my shoulder from afar and shatter my body barrier. Obvious. After breaking the barrier, he’ll intervene in my mind again to put me to sleep.

I kicked the ground. As I rush at him who keeps trying to increase distance, he finally draws a sword with his left hand. I retreat back to maintain distance. Ambidextrous, he’s trained well. What remains for him are intact legs and left arm. Then to avoid being caught by the weakness of his non-functioning right arm, his center of gravity would have shifted a bit more to the right, and that would create its own balance state, but…

I tilt my sword toward his left side and push forward. Bang, as it clashes with my sword with a roar, he staggers.

“…!”

Whatever magic he used, my body barrier cracks and a strong impact hits my head. He clearly held a sword, but it feels like stone-like mana is harshly pounding my body. Presumably—Thus David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone, and struck the Philistine and killed him, but there was no sword in David’s hand. I wonder if he used this formula. Whatever he used, no problem. I deliberately chanted.

—Though I have indeed erred, my error remains with me alone.

Lucien’s mouth closes. In Job, Job tells his Friends while suffering—you have no right to persecute me. Therefore, what effect the formula attached to Job 19:22 that I recited was developed to produce is obvious, and he has no choice but to roughly know. Know it. I said it to piss you off. After his mental attack magic trying to penetrate the barrier completely lifted, I smiled and put strength into the sword pressed against his. Lucien says in a faint voice.

“You fight boringly.”

“Is this the time to talk about others?”

With a sharp metallic sound, he lands behind.

At that moment, unfamiliar light flies from the opposite side. I immediately turn my head there. I parried Lucien’s mana rushing at me without even looking. Rosalie—

“This—”

Rosalie, who was about to chant, grabs her throat. Lucien’s eyes unexpectedly widen slightly. I muttered.

“I guess it’s your first time seeing unbreakable sound-blocking magic.”

It’s my first time too. Now, what I need to point out here, though I’ve used it tediously already, is that sound-blocking magic is ultimately technology to block noise at conversation decibel levels and has a hemispherical shape covering from above like a lid. In other words, since the bottom is open, to block vibrations passing through the floor surface, you need to additionally layer formulas that make different shapes on the standard sound-blocking magic formula, and you need to be careful of reduced friction when moving. Unless you want to slip during important conversations. So the standard formula used in real life doesn’t lay sound-blocking barriers on the floor surface. There’s no need since no Human puts their ear to the floor. However, during combat, you sometimes need to block even the floor despite the complexity. If you can layer and distort shapes like that, if you just know how to make new shapes, is there some law that sound-blocking magic must be applied outside people?

There isn’t, but we can’t do it. Because it’s difficult. Because the mana in people’s bodies would block the formula’s application. Cold sweat flows. The mana in Rosalie’s throat struggles to push out my sound-blocking magic stuck in his vocal cords. He screams but only his face turns red while no sound is heard. Now, let’s see if that ‘code’ can function without chanting too.

“Rose.”

I placed my index finger on my lips and narrowed my eyes sarcastically. Such fake magic formulas usually function through chanting since it would be a big problem if they functioned just through thought. So go ahead and try. Rosalie’s bloodshot eyes are clearly visible above the flashing mana in the darkness. Veins clearly stand out on his jaw. Hurt pride? I suppose so. I block Rosalie with one hand and look at Lucien with the other. The blood that was dripping from his mouth has stopped at some point. Conversely, my eyes grow hot. Due to running too many formulas at once, blood rushing to my head bursts the capillaries in my whites. Fishy blood flows from my nose and seeps into my mouth. I swept my upper lip with my tongue and swallowed the blood. Lucien was strong enough for this standoff, at least as strong as my Friends, as strong as my seniors, and now one more has gotten up. If I’m not going to kill both of them here, I need to put them back to sleep. I need to put them to sleep, but…

At the cutting sound, I rolled my fingers holding the wand to change it to a sword and spun my body to the back. My sword touches the throat of Lucien who warped behind, and the mana from his sword strikes my vision like a stone once again. I can feel his soft skin shallowly swallowing my sword.

I said to Lucien with my distorting vision.

“You rushed in so confidently, but now you can’t handle it alone?”

Now Lucien doesn’t speak. That means his stamina consumption was significant. After acting all high and mighty, now you need to conserve stamina?

“2 against 1.”

With an explosion, I flicked my fingers to parry the mana Rosalie thrust out.

“Be very ashamed, kids. At this level, you should be happy that I don’t have memories of the past.”

My eyes are still on Lucien’s deep blue pupils. Every time Lucien’s pulse beats, the smell of blood flowing from his throat awakens the mana throughout my body. It’s been like that all along. He’s a living fountain that awakens my mana. I swallowed the mixed smell of blood and said.

“What do you think?”

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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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