Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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“How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family (133)”
“Leo, thanks.”
I smiled as I listened to their conversation, then murmured softly.
It was my way of thanking him for setting the stage. Of course, guys that aggressive would’ve picked a fight with me even without Leo’s help.
[Oh~ This’ll be fun. I’ll watch closely, Luca!]
Instead of Leo, Elias cackled in response.
He’d said something like that during the festival play, too.
I cut off the communication and gazed down at the newspaper I’d brought from Bayern, organizing my thoughts.
In the same situation, attitudes were splitting based on self-interest.
I rummaged through the pile of notes stacked in one corner of my desk.
“Almost twenty of them.”
Out of seventy-two, twenty was a significant number at this point, when most partners were already set.
It matched the volume of requests Leo and Elias had gotten over time.
No matter how loudly a few objected, it was just temporary noise. In the end, the momentum was on my side.
The fact that some were lashing out in fear of losing more was a sure sign I was making solid progress.
“More importantly.”
I’d heard Adelbert Hohenzollern got a 3+ yesterday.
The whole academy was buzzing about it; there was no missing it.
When I checked my office in Bayern, there was a letter he’d sent a few days ago.
“Unlike Father, he didn’t send a messenger.”
Just regular warp mail.
Though that meant I’d checked it too late.
“I should reply now.”
Even with a technique score of 2, he’d consistently aced exams and skipped grades. A sudden plunge like this must’ve been rough on him.
It might seem minor, but messing up your mindset at a time like this could change your whole life.
This student militia draft wasn’t even in the novel, and without it, he wouldn’t have gotten that 3+. A little encouragement wouldn’t hurt.
“If he gets discouraged and holes up in his room, I won’t get any intel out of him.”
I broke the seal stamped with the imperial crest and unfolded the letter.
[To the esteemed Excellency Ernst,]
[…Lately, the capital academy has issued a mobilization order, and everyone’s taking qualification exams. It seems voluntary, but it’s not. Especially for me. His Majesty keeps insisting I join the first team.
…
But I don’t think I can live up to His Majesty or my teachers’ expectations. Have you ever felt like this, Excellency?]
“…Hmm.”
It was obvious why his grades dropped.
Now I understood why he’d stopped me in the drama club looking like death warmed over.
I doubted he’d confide in someone at -5 favorability… but he must’ve been that desperate, enough to vent to rock bottom.
“But I’ve gotta have something encouraging to say.”
I’d been through worse myself countless times, but if asked to cheer up my past self, I’d draw a blank. Back when I had no mental fortitude, words wouldn’t have gotten through anyway.
After agonizing, nothing good came to mind, so I settled on one line.
[Expectations exist to be shattered, Your Highness.]
I wrote it out in my neatest handwriting, added a stock phrase about contacting me anytime if he needed advice, and warped it to my Bayern office.
Honestly, not sure if it’ll hit home. Better to say it in person….
“But the Emperor’s paying attention to Elias, huh.”
I capped my fountain pen and stood.
The clock showed it was nearing 11.
“One last breath of fresh air?”
I debated waking Pie, who was sleeping on my pillow, but headed to the roof alone.
Leaning on the railing, I let the night breeze wash over me as I looked down.
Tomorrow, I’d secure a partner first, then scale up the board as they came.
Lost in those thoughts, killing time, voices drifted from the rooftop door.
“…Like I said earlier, I think that guy deserved the 1+.”
“…We’re gathering people now—really not gonna try?”
Familiar topic. I turned to see two Class 1-B students pushing through the door.
One startled when our eyes met, stepping back.
The other flashed a relaxed smile, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, Lucas.”
As his friend bolted from the roof, he approached me.
“Fancy meeting you here. Ah, do you know my name?”
“How could I not? We’re in the same grade.”
Yulia Cherlingen.
Heir to the Grand Duchy of Baden, future Grand Duke—and Baden’s sovereign.
And one of the students I’d planned to propose partnering with.
“I see. Wasn’t trying to ignore you; Melvin’s told me some stories. Glad you know me.”
He must mean how Luca never memorized classmates’ names.
Luca hadn’t known most of them—including Melvin—for the whole year.
“Anyway, I was shocked by your first prelim yesterday. Didn’t know you had that talent. As a future exam buddy, it was a great lesson—and a kick in the pants.”
“Thanks for the kind words.”
“No problem.”
Cherlingen laughed heartily, then spoke again.
“No matter what I say next, you probably won’t take it well. For standouts like you, praise for skill doesn’t really land.”
“……”
I’d planned to approach him first; guess I didn’t need to.
‘Great minds.’
Even so, his tone and demeanor screamed ruling family heir more than anyone I’d met.
Unlike Leo, who hated the crown prince label, this guy wore it comfortably.
‘That’s why no real connection with Leo or Elias.’
Not a bad thing.
If he were a tyrant, Elias would’ve decked him, so Cherlingen would likely be a decent ruler.
Just a typical noble fully at ease with the class system—not deep bonds with Leo or Elias. That’s all.
I nodded, signaling him to go on.
“Sorry to say this without much prior chat, but you’re getting flak for brute-forcing with mana quantity to snag that 1+. You know?”
“I know.”
“It’s partly true. But not the whole story.”
I stayed silent, waiting.
I had a hunch.
Instead of praising me, he was proving his worth.
A natural strategy, but not like the note-senders.
He chuckled amusedly, leaning on the opposite railing.
“Most say it’s mana brute force because they saw no special flair in your moves. Agree?”
“Yeah, agree.”
“And that’s not them being clueless about technique—it’s because your form was perfectly textbook.”
“……”
“It reminded me of Leonard’s style. Clean, restrained—downright enviable.”
Guys who excel in one area really have an eye for it.
Unlike the ‘mana brute’ complainers, he’d analyzed my moves properly.
“This attack style’s easy to read. Sure, that’s losers’ excuses, but undeniable for 99% of people. So everyone cooks up their own tricks and quirks.”
His face grew serious.
He stared into space, continuing.
“And chasing quick wins like that derails everything. Real growth comes from the straight path.”
Like Leo.
He looked beyond flashy results, to the long game.
“But that readability isn’t a big issue for you. Few can handle your mana anyway. Your only real flaw now? Lack of data—hard to adapt flexibly to opponents’ attacks. Just a guess.”
“Hmm, not far off.”
Even when more efficient moves from study would work, my inexperience keeps me stuck in basics.
“You felt it too, huh. So… a partner who covers technically when gaps open could plug those rare score leaks. Partner picks are part of teamwork eval, after all—your score too.”
I smiled silently at him.
Cherlingen grinned confidently, extending his hand.
“Dunno your preferred attack style, but I can fill any gaps, Lucas. Want to team for the second exam.”
Intelligence gleamed in his golden eyes amid the dark.
A smile assuming no rejection.
The kind only from knowing your strengths cold.
He was approaching me purely politically.
And my intentions weren’t far off.
This exchange wasn’t just an exam—it might seed the shifting Anhalt dukedom succession.
‘Even his speech patterns check out.’
Subtly formal, like addressing a political peer, not a high school friend.
At this stage, where rapport costs little, why pass up allying with me?
Which meant no reason for me to refuse.
Having future Bayern and Baden rulers as allies? Jackpot.
“Sure.”
I clasped his hand, smiling.
Calluses thick with effort—like Leo’s or Elias’s.
* * *
The fresh air woke me right up.
My planned partner approaching me first sharpened my focus too.
‘Favorability up 3 points.’
Creeping toward 15.
I flipped through the paper Leo left.
‘Time to analyze.’
With changes just emerging, a media breakdown was due.
[Bayern Magical Medical Center: “Lucas Ascanien’s core perfectly normal”]
[Bayern Magical Medical Center: “Past status unknown, but currently normal”]
Papers nationwide pumped similar stories, varying only in wording.
[Can ‘Pleroma’ be cured?]
[Anhalt New Church Union blasts: “Era of Pleroma treating Pleroma”]
[Lucas Ascanien, Ascanien family’s sole lifeline]
[“Can’t entrust subjects to a Pleroma”—Imperial Second Academy opposes decision]
My magic analyses were mostly positive—set aside.
Other mentions skewed negative at first glance.
Seven of ten cited ‘Pleroma’ or ‘vampirism,’ voicing concerns.
‘Not a great look.’
But expected.
Public negativity built over years won’t flip overnight—or it’d scream manipulation from on high.
What I needed was real-time intel. With public perception lagging behind headlines, reflecting old biases—what then?
One place mirrors unspoken psychology first.
‘The market.’
I grabbed yesterday’s financials Leo left.
Anhalt lagged other nations industrially.
But Adrian Ascanien, around my age now, eyed steel, rail, defense. Early stages, but shifting.
Anhalt’s ag base means new policies could shrink or scrap on leadership change—core anxiety.
With Georg Ascanien bailing early, even minor news rocks it hard.
I underlined firms tied to my brother’s development—and their financial partners.
Results…
Nimaier Engineering -6.4%
Anhaltbaumer -7.95%
A&P Special Steel -5.9%
…
‘Chaos.’
I smiled.
Nationwide peers steady, but brother-linked firms tanked uniformly.
Nationwide Pleroma fears pulling Anhalt investments? Nah—other local stocks unmoved.
Only his policy joiners plunged.
‘Perfect.’
Stocks reveal more than economics.
Short-term, sure—but that’s key. Raw, immediate reactions post-news.
Bottom line: one meaning.
The market lost firm faith in Anhalt’s ducal heir.