Chapter 189
Chapter 189
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 189
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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I slowly wiped my face.
Rough, thick skin brushed against my fingertips.
Unlike Marco ten years from now, the hair of Marco from this era was even darker.
I calculated the balance of this new body as I rose to my feet.
[…Our German Second Empire solemnly swears to protect our territory and our subjects from the reckless Third French Empire, which is flouting the treaty and rampaging with impunity. Subjects, as always, Emperor Friedrich and the Empire will triumph.]
The voice of the former Magic Minister, whose resignation date I couldn't even recall, flowed out from the massive artifact.
"Ten years ago."
I knew exactly what time period I'd dropped into.
The incident broadcasting from the artifact right now was France's mages leading a force to smash through the warp magic restrictions at the border, all to reclaim Alsace-Lorraine, the region seized by the German Empire after the Franco-Prussian War.
It had been a decisive event leading to the fall of the French Second Empire in our history too.
Unlike our history, where a republic had been established, the Third French Empire had preserved its monarchy—the emperor at the time of defeat had been dethroned, replaced by a far stronger mage—and now openly eyed Alsace-Lorraine, the symbol of their defeat. It was only natural; they'd just swapped the signboard, but the contents were no different from the Second Empire.
"So."
What was the problem with this situation that had caused Marco Schreiber to awaken with memories from ten years prior?
I could guess.
I'd made every preparation before arriving here, including an investigation into Marco Schreiber.
The scene I was about to witness would probably be incomparably more insane than anything with Adelbert.
No matter what madness I saw, I had to stay calm. With that resolve, I took a step forward. Or tried to.
[…What have I….]
The moment I abandoned the thought and tried to stand, Marco Schreiber's thoughts echoed in my mind.
It was similar to what had happened with Adelbert.
Except this time, unlike then, the words weren't translated. It was clearly Imperial tongue, yet it sounded like a foreign language to me.
"Assimilation isn't complete yet, I suppose."
Just a hunch, but reading Marco's memories would let me empathize with his emotions.
I stepped aside to let Marco fully replay his memories.
[…What did I just hear?]
My head turned automatically. Frozen in place, Marco realized the broadcast was now giving evacuation instructions for subjects and seized the massive artifact.
But the broadcast ended right after.
Even ten years ago, the emperor didn't disappoint me. Now blaring from it was the Empire's national anthem. In this hair-trigger moment right before war, would they issue one alarm and then idly play the anthem instead of repeating evacuation procedures and updates?
I—no, Marco—raised my head.
It wasn't sunset, yet the sky outside the window was red this early morning. The wailing siren from the government's amplification magic pierced through my body. My ears felt like they would split. My heart began pounding wildly.
[No. Exactly where are they invading?]
Alsace-Lorraine was divided into three sectors.
Lorraine at the top, then northern Alsace, and southern Alsace below that.
[They said southern. Lorraine's at the very top, so not there. It won't be. They mean southern Alsace?]
Boom—!
Marco kicked back his chair, bolted across the empty hallway, and rushed outside the building. By the time he sprinted out of the estate grounds like a madman, extras were being scattered through the air. Marco snatched one flying down from the sky.
[French Army Air Raid Status on Alsace-Lorraine]
His eyes shot straight to the civilian casualty section.
[Injured: 1 / Missing: 0 / Dead: 0]
His heart sank.
"…Dead: 0."
[God in heaven.]
No one had died yet.
He looked up at the street.
The post office. He needed to get to the post office.
He had to check on his daughter and son in northernmost Lorraine right away and let them know he'd pull them out from there.
Prussia might block civilian access, but he had connections in the military; if he begged, they could bring his children out first. If not, he'd bribe the French Army.
Then, in half a day, they'd be together here. Nothing would happen.
His frantically beating heart calmed a bit. An inexplicable hope welled up.
He couldn't delay any longer. France might cut communications anytime; he had to be a minute faster.
He usually left letters and telegrams to the servants, but after decades in this city, he knew exactly where the post office was.
"The biggest post office in the capital is around here."
They could process warp mail quickly there.
But the moment he arrived at the post office, breathless and without pause, despair crashed over him.
"No."
Had there always been this many people on this street? Since when?
The crowd before the post office was packed with people from who-knows-where. Someone had fetched a saw and was hacking at the closed iron gates.
Dozens of post office workers, roused from sleep by the government's emergency call and rushed to work, gaped in horror at the surging mob.
"No, we can't open like this! If you want to send something quick, get in line. Don't push!"
Ironically, the people swarmed like bees even more. He felt someone shoving his back from behind with their shoulder. Everyone was pushing each other.
Boom—!
"Ack!"
Someone was shoved down to the ground. From one side, a young man screamed, blood pouring from his neck.
"Let me in first, please. Baden—no, my mother lives three minutes away by warp in southern Alsace!"
I—
My children were in Alsace-Lorraine, not Baden. Did they think I had family in the Grand Duchy of Baden, which hadn't even been invaded yet?
"You think you're the only one? My family's in the Rhineland!"
"Who here doesn't?!"
Then couldn't they wait a little? The French Army didn't have the trick to swiftly dismantle Baden's barriers and magic. House Cheringen was on the frontier and stronger than most, and neighboring Bavaria rivaled Prussia. In the end, so, so, the people here...
Didn't deserve to go in before me. They had to not. They weren't desperate.
But I had neither the strength nor the will to argue how desperate they were. Those not desperate had the energy for shouting matches, but I had none to waste on that.
In an instant, the place turned into pandemonium.
My ears went numb.
The shouting faded, and ironically, now people's whispers rang loud.
"How far have they taken?"
"Southern Alsace."
"…Knew it would come to this. It's been French land for 300 years; no way they'd become German just because of some treaty."
"Those mad Froshpressers must've colluded with the mainland to break down the barriers our court set up. And doing it on December 31st, no less. You got family there too?"
"My cousin's in Baden…"
After that, memory fails.
When I came to, I clutched a cheap fountain pen from the post office. The nib was busted, ink leaking everywhere, staining my hand black. Ignoring it, I smeared the pooling ink with my fingers and scrawled.
Sending all the cash on hand in haste. Need more? Send word, I'll wire any amount. Give it to the French Army and get out through them if you can.
I wrote that much and tore off the letter sheet.
If caught with this, Prussia would execute me. I used words the children could understand, phrasing it obliquely.
I don't know if I wrote legibly. When I snapped back, I was at military headquarters.
"No."
"If you say Marco Schreiber, they'll let me in."
"We're on duty; can't fraternize with civilians. Go home."
"Don't you know who I am? Ten minutes—no, five… no, even one minute, just once…"
"I know. You're the former Deputy Magic Minister. I know your children are in Alsace-Lorraine."
"Not just there. It was Prussia's relocation order, wasn't it? Forcing mainland Germans into that underdeveloped land no one wanted to move to, all for that damned Alsace-Lorraine assimilation plan! My kids were dragged there just for being politicians' brats!"
Raising my voice, the aide waved me off.
"I know you served the state and His Majesty the Emperor. I'll pass it along, so calm down. Berlin's safe for now; meet some friends and compose yourself before the next update."
"You'll tell them?"
"Yes."
"You have to tell them."
The aide nodded indifferently. I staggered out of headquarters like a man unsure if he was alive or dead. My reflection in the door showed bloodshot eyes.
Snap—
I grabbed a flyer drifting from the sky.
Update time: just minutes ago.
[Injured: 2 / Missing: 0 / Dead: 0]
Injured up by one, but no missing or dead. Was that why people with no ties there—like that aide earlier, surely no connections in the Empire's southwest—were so nonchalant?
Tension eased a fraction; a giggle escaped.
After that, I kept going to the post office, lining up, waiting for letters, lining up again… sent servants to check mailboxes, checked extras.
Over four hours, two updates, casualties barely changed.
[Injured: 4 / Missing: 0 / Dead: 0]
No one dead.
The article said the Imperial Army had halved the French force in southern Alsace.
[Amid the enemy's fierce assault, our Imperial forces struck back with resolute will, halving French strength. Our army's superior strategy and prowess shone in this battle; the foe retreats miserably before the Empire's might. French lines are pushing south even now.]
Warp control magic repairs underway, barriers expanding. Paths to northern Alsace and Lorraine blocked.
The Empire's defenses were reliable.
As long as the French didn't reach Lorraine.
Only Lorraine.
Clink—
Someone set a plate of soup before me.
"Master. Stop checking the stats. We'll report them. More importantly, you need to eat something light, even now."
"……"
"Think about what you'll chat with the young masters when they arrive. Casualties aren't rising much; they'll all return safe. Especially yours—they're nobles. Safest of all."
The exasperated butler comforted me at my side.
"…Right."
Worrying changes nothing; time to toughen up.
Seeing them after so long, we could swap trivial stories from their time away. Five years there; they might share ways to aid poor Alsace-Lorraine's subhumans.
They'd grown attached, sure, but no more living in that mad land. If the Imperial government blocked relocation to Berlin, we'd all flee to Austria. I'd say that. Long out of office, money rotting away. If it spared the kids war's perils, I could board a ship to America tomorrow.
Yeah. America sounded better. Freer there, and with Britain quiet, no warring neighbors.
"Tomorrow's New Year's."
"Yes."
"Been ages since I'll greet New Year's morning with the kids."
"……."
No one replied; they knew my words were a spell cast on myself.
Much later, someone broke the silence.
"Yes. You will."
The casualty figures said so. France wasn't ready for Franco-Prussian revenge yet.
Relief aside, my aged nerves frayed from worry; my head throbbed.
Per my doctor's orders, I took a short nap.
Awakening near 10 a.m., I called a servant.
"Casualties? Updates every two hours; one at 9, right? Any letters from the kids?"
"……."
I lowered the arm over my eyes and slowly raised my head.
"Hey."
"Nothing yet. But…"
I shot to my feet.
Now I noticed the gray paper in his hand.
Snatching it, French text jumped out—all but the numbers. I pored over every letter, fearing misreads.
Third French Empire's…
"……."
[Third French Empire's Overwhelming Victory: Southern Alsace, Northern Alsace Recaptured; Advance into Lorraine]
"…Lorraine?"
Had I misread?
Lorraine. Lorraine. Lorraine? Muttering like a lunatic, the servant reluctantly spoke.
"French Empire paper, issued 30 minutes ago. A friend rushed it over…"
He trailed off.
"What the—?"
Prussia had clearly halved the French in southern Alsace, blocked their path. When did they reach northern Alsace and Lorraine?
Trembling wildly, I tried reading the body. My gymnasium-level French failed me.
Desperate, I fixated on numbers. Stumbling through:
[French casualties total 10, all minor injuries…]
"……."
"Master."
"Clearly…"
Clearly, the Empire had claimed half the French dead…
I leaned back against the bedhead. Vision spun.
"……."
No, Froshpresser lies. Propaganda to crush our morale. Had to be.
But why no replies from my kids? Why no more Imperial stats?
"The Empire."
Eyes snapped open to a conclusion I'd never considered—or refused to imagine.
What if the Empire faked the reports?
"……."
Our proud German Second Empire, Prussia, the Hohenzollern court boldly lied to subjects.
Why hadn't I doubted? Barely rising injured, that fantasy 'zero dead'? Obvious it couldn't be real.
I'd been the fool. My hope destroyed natural suspicion.
A deafening roar split my ears.
Awakening again, my friend sat beside me.
"You alright?"
"……."
"Stupid question."
He sighed deeply.
"Listen, Marco. This doesn't mean your children have met misfortune already. Got it? What I'm about to say is just numbers, unapproved by His Majesty."
Approved by the emperor?
Too late for credibility.
"France already planted their flag in Lorraine's capital. Don't know Lorraine casualties. But Alsace… sigh… should I even tell you…"
"Tell me!"
A shout I'd never heard from my own throat burst out.
My friend's face twisted in grief.
"They slaughtered every mainland German passing through Alsace."
"……."
Intelligence unreported yet: over 300 dead on our side. France had sharpened knives for Franco-Prussian payback.
Someone gripped my back and neck.
"No."
No.
Not a dream, but Lorraine's fate unknown. My children there might still live.
"I hope not too, but prepare yourself first…"
"French propaganda."
"…Straight from Prussian intel. No imperial approval yet…"
"Can't know yet. My kids wouldn't go like that."
"You're calling grown mages over 30 your 'kids.' Fair enough; to us nearing 100, they're young."
"Yeah."
"……."
"So they can't go first. Against nature. Children before parents."
"All our lives defy nature, Marco."
"……."
"Your eldest daughter's early 30s? Young, but old enough to accept fate…"
"What are you trying to say?!"
Boom—the nightstand shattered under my fist.
Mana refluxed from every facial orifice. Veins burst. Vision warped black to red repeatedly. Stark contrasts slashed across; the world shattered to pieces. Impossible. Empire swore Alsace-Lorraine safe from France ten years ago, safe… Our German Second Empire stands against ——— to protect our lands and subjects. My subjects… Emperor Friedrich and? The Empire triumphs as always.
"Marco! I know how you cherish your children. So I'm just, uh, uh, th-that—… [The train to Lorraine departs now.] The train to Lorra&*n departs nowThetrainto%&rin%@@ nowdeparts + Father!
Screech—Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Boom—!
.departs now train to Lorraine the .departs now train to Lorraine the .departs now train to Lorraine the….
Screeech—
Steam locomotive roared in my ears.
I opened my eyes. White light stabbed my optic nerves.
"Hard to believe, I imagine."
I—no, Marco—looked down at my feet.
A massive coffin draped in the Prussian flag.
No, a box?
[Why lie to subjects?! All 353 dead were civilians!]
"Can't express the grief of losing your children."
[Well… the 300-odd mainland Imperials were all mages, reserves—not civilians. Thus in combat stats. We never published soldier figures publicly; the stats you saw were civilians only.]
[No reserve call-up till Lorraine fell, I hear. Some suspect abandoning Alsace-Lorraine subjects was strategy…]
[I can answer, but know this reeks of treason.]
"……."
"Excellency Marco Schreiber, as Emperor Friedrich's vassal, your children's noble blood guarded Alsace-Lorraine from the vile Third French Empire. The Empire owes them much."
[We lost 353 proud Imperials, loyal subjects of Emperor Friedrich. We won't forget their sacrifice and devotion defending Alsace-Lorraine for the Empire.]
Overlapping voices from nowhere droned on.
No train returned.
"Regretting it much?"
A bizarre voice—not man, woman, newhuman, child, elder, youth, anything. Many voices blended.
Marco turned.
Sunlight pierced to his brain's end. He turned, but no one at eye level.
"Mr. Marco Schreiber. Former Deputy Magic Minister, His Majesty's loyal retainer. Sent your children to the frontier for his expansion, only to get this—must feel awful."
"……."
"Can't turn back the departed Lorraine train, but we can salvage it. Interested?"
Marco's gaze drifted down slowly.
A small child, height barely to his chest, smiled with eerily bright yellow eyes.
"Just a handful of your blood, and we rewind it all."