How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 605

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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 (605)

“Hmm.”

“If we do that, we should be able to revive a sorcerer who can manipulate consciousness. Of course, saying we’ll bring back the dead is a naive prospect! Hahaha.”

Rohan smoothed over his shocking statement with laughter and drank his wine. Count Blanchart blinked in surprise and said.

“Looking at any tradition, there was no one who knew how to manipulate consciousness before Ion Forso.”

“It wouldn’t be a mistake, would it.”

I added a word to show I agreed with Count Blanchart’s opinion. In truth, Count Blanchart’s opinion was likely wrong. Just looking at Sarah Hohenfelss, she possessed a unique ability to interfere with consciousness. It seems she could use it even when he was alive. I looked into Rohan’s eyes and continued speaking.

“During the period when witch hunts were rampant, the women who went to the stake died under such false accusations.”

Are you thinking those who were killed for ‘knowing magic’ were real mages and trying to revive them? That’s nonsense, so I hope you’ll provide more information. Strangely, the Rohan family was a powerful house that prided itself on being higher than the French royal family, yet they’re showing deference to the Noailles person. Noailles is also a famous family, but they don’t have as much influence as Rohan. Then… There’s a mage with tremendously good abilities in the Noailles family, and this Bourbon gathering revolves around him as one of its main pillars – this could be the reason Rohan is acting so friendly toward Lucien Noailles now. Then is the person who said “it goes round and round” really Rohan as Lucien said? I don’t think so.

My already nonexistent trust dropped a little more. Rohan said confidently.

“No. Of course the sacrificed victims weren’t witches! Those foolish, mad Germans just killed innocent civilians. Those sad victims weren’t connected to any magical ritual. That’s certain.”

It’s a slippery way of speaking that makes it seem like there were no witch trials in France. It’s true that there were many trials in Germany. It’s a past that this generation’s ‘real mages’ find truly disgusting. Even so, it wasn’t a situation where this fine noble lord should defend France. If he shifts responsibility like this, who can console the spirits of those who died innocently in France? I didn’t agree and looked at him with indifferent eyes.

“But about ‘real’ sorcerers. There are records of those who truly had spiritual abilities. It’s not time for that yet. The important thing is… such dreamlike stories might become reality someday.”

I smiled instead of answering.

“How interesting.”

Of course Henri would want such technology to come in. Doctor Mesmer and Father Gassner are both dead, and while it would be good if we could find their research and improve it with magic, even better would be for the dead to return to life. Anyone would want magic that brings back the dead. For example, wouldn’t France want to have one more Napoleon?

Count Rohan didn’t lose his composure even with the conversation not progressing easily, took a sip of wine, and changed the subject.

“Has Laplase found anything?”

“No.”

“I thought so. What about Prince of Bavaria?”

“It seems he wasn’t caught that far.”

“Unexpected.”

Unexpected? Sorry, but you’re right. We were caught. Not me, but clearly from the Laplace stage. Was it Laplace’s fault, or was Prince Hildegard sharp… I think it was both. What is Prince Hildegard doing right now? If I had to pick what makes me most uncomfortable at this moment, it would be Prince.

I quickly erased the thought and said.

“Time is too short to research technology for reviving people.”

“It’s certainly a subject that requires sufficient consideration.”

Rohan nodded his head greatly as if he understood. I gradually stopped my other actions at those words and looked at Rohan. Something’s strange. Even though I’m criticizing his ambitiously stated plan for lack of time, he’s not flustered or making excuses. He seems to have a plan.

Why, do you also have time manipulation abilities? I held a gentle smile on my lips and looked at him with a warm gaze. Count Rohan said softly.

“The important thing is what kind of person should be revived.”

“A wonderful plan.”

“Indeed.”

Since he’s not saying more, it was my turn to speak. I slightly raised my wine glass under the yellow light created by the chandelier’s candles.

“I know a suitable person. I only know of their existence though.”

“If Marie Noailles would just give us a hint, we could find a clue before next month.”

Marie Noailles, is that Lucien Noailles’ surname? Or Cousin Gagyeongja? She seems to be the core of the Noailles household. Does finding a clue mean finding a clue for resurrection research, or finding where the corpse is? Saying they’ll find a clue when given a hint is probably closer to an attempt to locate the corpse.

Then what about resurrection research? There was a place that contacted us to research together. Will everything be accomplished by next month just by finding the corpse location? That can’t be right. Information that the occult was used in Bourbon restoration won’t be easily caught even if investigated outside, so it would be good to extract it here.

So you speak again this time. I said politely.

“For widespread use, we’d need the ability to extract unique abilities into space.”

“Ah…”

That’s an ability Pleroma was just developing in 1898, so France couldn’t possibly have it. The maze-like space Leonard and I had fallen into looked exactly like a spatialized version of Sarah Hohenfelss’s ability. If they’re thinking of captivating the masses, they’d need unique ability spatialization, so I had to convey that they shouldn’t regret it later.

“Even abilities that can’t be used widely won’t be a problem. We just need to properly appease editors-in-chief of various news agencies.”

I raised my eyebrows. What kind of crazy bastard am I looking at. Control the media, so you won’t need to cast magic nationwide? From their perspective it’s an obvious statement, but by my common sense it’s far and distant, yet my heart and words moved differently. I smiled and answered.

“Then anytime.”

Prove it to me anytime. Then I’ll bring you information.

Count Rohan, understanding the meaning, raised his cheeks in a smile and soon raised the corners of his mouth satisfactorily.

* * *

I wanted to whistle. Even without positive prospects that they’d accomplish something substantial in 1851, just learning about France’s key figures working underwater and their roles was enough to make me happy about what I could gain by returning.

The Blanchart family held a small reception to welcome our return. I heard we only left the day before yesterday and returned today, yet they’re welcoming us this much – they must love their daughter tremendously. No, perhaps Count Blanchart seemed to hope Rosalie and Lucien would marry. It’s not impossible for Humans and Espers to be bound by the institution of marriage, but even though Espers don’t feel the necessity of marriage, Count Blanchart holds hope.

Even now as I’m waltzing with Rosalie, Count Blanchart is watching us with a smile covering his face. Burdensome enough…

“What kind of person is Marie Noailles?”

I cast sound-blocking magic and asked Rosalie. Rosalie is stiff as if dealing with Laplace even though I have Lucien’s face. During the waltz, I used magic to touch his stiffly frozen legs, signaling him to move more normally. Rosalie said curtly.

“Why should I tell you? What’s the reason for casting sound-blocking magic and speaking formally?”

“Sigh, fine. Just speak casually.”

Forget security and everything else. Surely there isn’t anyone here trying to read lip movements? Rosalie had a talent for making me lose my fighting spirit. Yet even so, he remained stiff without knowing it.

“Won’t you answer?”

“She’s greater than you.”

“In your eyes, wouldn’t anyone be better than me, Count Blanchart.”

I held his waist and supported his back when he leaned backward. Rosalie doesn’t make eye contact with me. He seemed to have no intention of answering questions about Marie Noailles.

I thought of Sophia Nussbaum, who had become my most recent friend, and said.

“Actually, when I went abroad, I became close with a friend our age there.”

“What? A girl or boy?”

Rosalie frowned at the mention of making a friend.

“…Does that matter? Listen. I have something I want to tell you.”

“What.”

“When I proposed Brüderschaft to you, it wasn’t to torment you. It wasn’t to tease you, nor was it just empty words to comfort you. That doesn’t mean I think nothing of the things you’re presumed to have done.”

“I know.”

Rosalie’s gaze shifts to the floor on my left. He said in a crawling voice.

“Why are you saying this now.”

First, as long as this extra chapter exists, I thought I should clarify it sometime. Second…

Sitting in today’s meeting made me realize. I can’t leave Lucien Noailles as he is. I need to build trust by telling Rosalie the maximum truth without lying. To avoid lying, some utterances become crude. The more I move toward bewitching words, the further I get from truth. No matter how necessary it is to speak, my words right now must not be false. I didn’t want them to be.

“That friend is comfortable to be with. Even though we haven’t known each other long, I feel that way. In the past, I wouldn’t have thought it comfortable even after years together. It might be because that friend has a good personality and we communicate well, but I think it happened because my mindset changed.”

Rosalie looks at me listlessly with a ‘so what’ expression. I also shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s right. So friends I make nowadays are precious and new to me.”

“That makes sense. Everything would be new to someone like you who always stuttered and couldn’t speak properly.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what.”

I answered with laughter instead. Though he spoke curtly, Rosalie’s eyes tensely follow me. You were that kind of person – he wants confirmation. That Laplace made a friend and returned is like a bolt from the blue to him.

Without special circumstances, it’s hard to understand why one would stutter around peers. The stuttering friends I saw during school days were all surprisingly absorbed in hobbies like comics or games, and they particularly disliked me. When I tried to study their culture to become closer, they hated me more. They firmly rejected attempts by outsiders to approach their group. Sometimes I wondered if they somehow found out that teachers secretly asked me to look after the isolated ones, or if they disliked my approach because my friends went to bully them. Even before that, they hated or avoided me to the end. Contrary to Rosalie’s wish for me to recall ‘stuttering’ memories, all I have are such memories – a quiet friend one day flips his desk and shouts with his whole body red. Is your life worth living?

I remember all the classmates were bewildered that day. I wasn’t bewildered. That friend had realized the teacher asked me to take care of him, and since he originally disliked me and felt awkward, his pride was hurt enough to get angry at me. That much was his situation. After the taciturn friend who silently looked at drawings rain or shine vomited all the pus that had filled his inner self, I gave up. I seemed to have mistaken their timidity for gravity and prudence, and until that day I seemed to have hope born from shallow, petty misunderstanding, but no longer.

So certainly the story I’m somewhat confiding to Rosalie now is far from Laplace’s life without people nearby. All my time was filled with people, yet I grew more distant from people. The more I recall such thoughts, the clearer it becomes that I cannot deceive Rosalie with any intention. The system seems to help me not to even dream of deceiving…

I raised my hand to spin Rosalie around once and finished the dance shortly after. Rosalie sat in a reception hall chair, catching his breath, and asked.

“What’s new.”

“Just this and that.”

“Ah, so frustrating. Won’t you tell me?”

“I’m choosing how to convey it with the least awkwardness. Be patient.”

“Then think first, then speak.”

“I should have done that.”

I closed my eyes, then while acting Lucien’s expression, spoke without acting in my words.

“It’s new that I don’t have to live imitating fragments of others who might be anywhere in the world without knowing what I am, considering that as myself.”

“…”

“The friends by my side now may not be many, but I can treat people more sincerely than ever before, so I don’t feel lacking. Rather, I feel fulfilled.”

Rosalie said nothing. Eventually he asks me with veins bulging in his neck.

“So you want to forget the past, that’s not it, right? After babbling about Brüderschaft or whatever…”

“Right. I don’t think it’s something to be angry about. I want to be that way with you too, Rosalie. That’s why I’m talking to you like this now.”

Knowing you won’t even understand it all. I continued.

“We could become such friends, couldn’t we.”

As long as you don’t betray me. As long as you don’t try to get Laplace in your grasp again. If you betray me once more here, I can’t remain in this route either.

Rosalie turned his eyes away. Soon, after a brief silence, he mutters.

“She’s someone who greatly contributed to your and my engagement. She also took good care of His Majesty Henri…”

Rosalie now answers what I asked about Marie Noailles. Though I didn’t press for information, I nodded first. So Marie Noailles is above Henri Bourbon? Simply amazing.

I tilted my head slightly and asked.

“It seems like Lucien lied.”

“….”

“The words about going around in circles were said by that person. It wasn’t someone from House of Rohan, but His Excellency Marie Noailles who said it. Am I wrong?”

Rosalie doesn’t speak and only stares persistently into my eyes. Then she stood up from her seat.

“Let’s go now.”

“Hm?”

“Count Rohan is looking for you.”

When I turned my eyes to where Rosalie’s gaze was directed, Mr. Rohan was there. I looked at Mr. Rohan behind us and broke the sound-blocking magic.

I suppose today’s trust ends here. I lifted Rosalie’s hand to ceremonially kiss it and turned around.

* * *

Mr. Rohan invited me to his house.

Earlier, I had said I would tell him about a predecessor mage with abilities useful for enthroning Henri, so prove whether it’s worth investing in you. Mr. Rohan apparently had no intention of postponing those words. He took me to the basement of his house, where a coffin greeted us along with a priest I’d never seen before.

As I was trying my best not to show my displeasure, Mr. Rohan spoke.

“This is the only answer I can show you.”

“It’s a coffin.”

“It is a coffin. Here we have moved the bones of a 15-year-old boy who tragically lost his life during the witch hunts. Shall I show you inside?”

I lowered my eyes and shook my head.

“We must open it for now. That way….”

Mr. Rohan opened the coffin lid. In the brief moment it was lifted and set down, I saw white bones. Several leg bones were arranged on red velvet. I closed my eyes. The priest closed his eyes, made the sign of the cross, recited the Lord’s Prayer while stroking the coffin lid with his hand. He shouted biblical verses incomprehensibly, then struck the coffin lid hard with his hand and finished the ritual. Looking back, the Bible was originally used as spells even in human society. The authority of priests conducting exorcism rituals, when that expanded to mage society, in a society of people who believed that way, magic studies shared the same origin as demonology. In other words, what the priest is doing now simply borrows the authority of Christianity formally, but looks like a new type of magic rather than a religious ritual.

The priest quickly stepped back three paces. The three people standing in a circle around the coffin all fell silent and stiffened, barely breathing.

The coffin swayed slightly from side to side. I narrowed my brow, doubting my eyes. This time, the sound of breathing in with a “huh, ha” came from inside the coffin.

“Mother.”

Chills ran from my back to the top of my head. The priest and Mr. Rohan didn’t take their eyes off the coffin. Their eyes were blazing with fervor. Then the sound of surprised wailing came out of the coffin.

“Mother! Mother―! Mother, where is this? Where are you?”

A child’s sobbing voice comes from the coffin. In a place where the dead should lie silently, the breath of the living goes in and out. The words heard are somehow different from modern French. The person inside pounds on the coffin lid with banging sounds. The priest steps back one more pace. What was inside pushed the lid with all its strength, came out, and looked at us.

“This….”

There were no white bones. A child with a face covered in freckles and hair braided on both sides was looking at us in a daze. Dressed in typical 16th-century clothing. He turned his head frantically looking for where his mother was. After escaping from the coffin and feeling relieved for a moment, fear filled the child’s face again. But not as much as ours. All three of us were pale with terror, and that was because, looking again, there were no white bones in the coffin. Where the bones disappeared, there was flesh. Instead, a living person had arranged bones, attached flesh, and was dressed in clothes. Then Count Rohan trembled and raised the corners of his mouth. He said.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

“…Huff.”

I opened my eyes in a room filled with familiar scents. My chest was shaking violently. Cold sweat entered my eyes, blurring my vision. My head, which had fallen to the side, swept over the familiar room’s scenery. When I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them, I met eyes with Leonard, who was sitting at the table in front organizing documents.

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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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