Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Mathieu Obini
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Mathieu Obini.
As a newhuman himself, he had the face of someone in their twenties or thirties. His features were soft and round, giving him a friendly impression. If not for that first thing he’d said upon arriving in the empire, his image wouldn’t have been bad at all.
He extended his hand with a smile.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet someone I’ve only heard about in rumors. I’m Mathieu Obini.”
“Pleased to meet you, Excellency Obini.”
I nodded and shook his hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you in France. They say you took first place in the 101st Batch imperial selection exam.”
It hadn’t been that kind of exam, and the crown prince had just slotted me in later through an irregular selection, but I saw no need to correct him. The imperial family had already shaped the narrative that way anyway.
“I see the story made it that far.”
“Of course! We’re right next door, aren’t we? It’s refreshing to meet someone so outstanding that they were selected as top of their batch.”
“It’s nothing.”
I raised an eyebrow with a smile, trying to wrap up the small talk. A bit of praise for Mathieu Obini’s accomplishments, then an excuse about needing to find my teammates, and that would be it.
But before I could get a word in, he beamed and spoke up.
“I watched the video of your exam.”
“Ah, the video.”
I nearly bit my lip but managed my expression.
‘Not just heard about it—he actually saw the video?’
A sudden thought crossed my mind.
Did the footage of us sprinting madly through downtown Berlin really cross the border? Nobles don’t run—that’s convention—so it wasn’t exactly a dignified sight.
Of course, we could chalk it up to allowances for training. The foreign nobles who saw it had probably been through countless such drills and exams themselves.
But it hadn’t ended with just running hard for me. To a third party, I must have looked like a total lunatic from Line 1. I didn’t particularly want to dwell on why.
If the academy had considered the dignity of its members, it never should have put us through that.
‘I want to go home.’
“To counter a mage with mental affinity abilities by sacrificing one of your senses—truly impressive. I understand the Imperial Mage Alliance in the German Empire operates in special forces style, each unit specialized. Eschet’s position isn’t set yet, but it really drove home why Your Excellency was fast-tracked into the imperial service at such a young age.”
“I see. I’m glad you take an interest and say so. I actually read a few of your published papers before coming here—fascinating stuff. I was hoping to chat about them.”
“Oh.”
Now it was time to praise him lightly and send him on his way.
As I picked up a champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray, Mathieu’s gaze clung to me with keen interest.
“I didn’t have time to read many, but your experiment on mana-element binding using thermodynamics stuck with me.”
“Ah, alchemy! Mana-element binding system analysis based on thermodynamic principles. That’s the paper I presented this year.”
“Exactly. To establish an academic framework for alchemy, the top priority is finding concrete ways to suppress and reverse entropy increase. You noted that with the second law of thermodynamics showing clear exceptions as the only established finding so far, success remains uncertain. And you even considered methods to ultimately elementalize mana.”
“That’s right. It might stray from traditional alchemy in the end, but it’s not a bad outcome. Mind if I ask what impressed you most?”
“The conclusion that clinical trials on mages with alchemy-optimized affinities are inevitable—that stood out the most.”
It was obvious he’d next ask about opinions on human experimentation, so I took a sip of champagne and continued right away.
“There’s still a long way to go in this field, but your papers have clarified the direction forward.”
“Oh, most people point fingers at obvious research results like that.”
“From a non-scholar’s view, it might seem that way. Spending big research funds to solemnly declare what was already guessed.”
“Hm.”
Mathieu nodded with a smile.
“But scholarship shouldn’t pander to popular opinion. No matter how certain it seems, if it’s in the realm of inference, we can’t skip verification. There’s a difference between driving a smooth, cleared road and one littered with rocks everywhere.”
“Your Excellency could make a name for yourself as a professor in no time. That metaphor really hits home.”
I’d noticed it earlier—he had a flair for dramatic phrasing.
I smiled and tried to end the conversation. The moment I picked up a canapé topped with a cherry, Mathieu, who had been gazing intently at me, spoke up.
“Both Ascanien heirs entering imperial service before even reaching adulthood—truly, a prestigious bloodline stands out. That’s the talk making rounds in Paris’s mage clubs these days. Our Academy Pruisance dean said he’d have scouted Excellency Ascanien immediately if you were a subject of the French Empire.”
Academy Pruisance was what they called their empire’s imperial academy.
A literal translation would be Power Academy—they viewed magic as a divine power granted to humanity.
I replied with a smile and eye contact, and since he showed no sign of leaving easily, I offered parting words.
“An honor. It was a good talk. Hope we get another chance.”
“Indeed. Personally, I’m rooting for you. Understanding His Majesty Emperor Friedrich’s choice and our academy dean’s intentions in such a short time—what a pleasure.”
When I just looked at him without replying, he continued.
“I’d been vaguely questioning the imperial selection, but I see now it was just my prejudice. Sorry. Our delegation members are still immature and quick to show bias, so I’ll make sure to rein them in.”
Mathieu shook my hand once more and grinned. Then, as if remembering something, he turned back halfway, raised an eyebrow, and looked at me again.
He snapped his fingers and grinned.
“Your eye color is as cool as I imagined.”
* * *
Eye color.
Lately, I’d been hearing about my eyes a lot.
‘Can’t blame them. It’s only natural.’
I’d been living quietly like a church mouse before, so my eye color never became a topic.
At most, it sparked backroom gossip like, “Why are that Ascanien’s eyes like that? Really pink? If so, definitely Pleroma confirmed.” Few said it to my face.
But not anymore.
The more I moved around, the more people noticed my eyes again.
A slight negative side effect of publicly revealing Lucas Ascanien’s abilities.
‘Hm.’
Still, the one who brought up my eyes didn’t have pure intentions.
Curiosity? Half, maybe. The other half, no.
Red-spectrum eyes were taken as the mark of Pleroma. Considering he was a noble, by mentioning my eyes, Mathieu had essentially brought up my Pleroma ties.
‘Not dissing me, though.’
I didn’t sense personal malice from him.
From what he’d said right before, it seemed the delegation all saw me as Pleroma, so he was just saying they knew.
‘Earlier I thought their digs at the empire weren’t my business.’
Now they were.
Not because they seemed Pleroma-related—no signs of that, and Narke would’ve warned me if so.
So why was it my business?
These foreigners saw me as a symbol of the empire’s sloppiness.
The empire appoints a Pleroma suspect as imperial mage—that must sound ridiculous to the clueless.
‘Now I get why he brought up the portal entry.’
No nation on the continent welcomes our empire. It’s the birthplace of the Pleroma cult.
With Pleroma infiltrating borders everywhere, it’s a headache when the problem empire’s royals fast-track a Pleroma-suspect kid to the top spot. Hard to see in a good light.
And that’s not all. Clueless about their place—lacking intent or ability to fix core issues yet craving transcontinental influence—they opened Pentaron. That must’ve made them seem even more outrageous and laughable. The Grand Hotel incident probably fanned the flames.
In short, from abroad: “Does that country have a brain?”
I thought the emperor and crown prince had been hasty in several ways, so no urge to correct their view.
I sipped champagne and looked around.
Far off, my friends were surrounded by people.
Leo and Julia were swamped. Already hidden in the crowd. Handling chat requests from imperial and French nobles would exhaust ten bodies.
Heike and Ulrike were at the buffet table, stuffing their faces with snacks. As Prussian landowning Junker families, they’d draw attention at normal events, but with ruling nobles here, they had relative freedom.
Luckily, as disinterested high schoolers in climbing ranks, they didn’t seem to mind.
Ulrike, standing with a somewhat serious face for a banquet—hand in pocket—spoke up.
“After this ends, gotta head out on duty?”
“Yeah.”
“Planned board games with Narke and Julia after evening security. Wanna join?”
‘Having such casual chats with those serious faces?’
That’s the conversation I overheard as I approached to join. Slightly thrown off, someone suddenly called me from behind.
“Excellency Lucas Ascanien.”
French.
Turning, I saw an ordinary-looking newhuman. As expected, from Academy Pruisance’s delegation team.
‘Antoine Gramont.’
Pre-investigated name: 18-year-old high school division top mage. Unlike Mathieu, he spoke purely in French.
“I’ve heard so much. Congrats on first place selection.”
“Thanks. Antoine Gramont, right?”
“Oh, you know me.”
“How could I not?”
“An honor. But… your eyes really stand out, just like they say.”
“…….”
Now, hearing that felt like a challenge to throw down.
Unless they were totally clueless, it probably was, to some degree. I smiled and replied.
“I know.”
Gramont blinked, face smiling. Maybe he hadn’t expected a response, or had nothing to follow up with after tossing it out.
He narrowed his eyes playfully and grinned.
“Is there a spell on your eyes?”
“I don’t know about that either.”
“It’s your eyes? No other pinks in Ascanien, right?”
‘Hm.’
Mathieu Obini had age and experience, so communication went smoothly. This one, not so much.
Unlike Leo or Narke, who acted beyond their years publicly, this guy seemed exactly his age. I wasn’t much older myself, so no judging by age—youth doesn’t mean all immature—but unlike other nobles, he plainly showed he didn’t know how to slyly weave malice into words.
‘That’s why Mathieu said he’d rein them in.’
Hard to rein in when they swarm like this.
If he were my peer, I might snap, but it just amused me into a laugh.
“That’s right. Got any good ideas on my iris color’s cause?”
Instead of answering, he shrugged with a meaningful smile.
“Just wanted to say it’s unique and cool. Does your magic come out pink too?”
“All red-spectrum. Guess you haven’t seen the exam video.”
“Not everyone has to watch it, right? Haha, show me later? It’d be a huge honor.”
‘Not everyone has to’—sounded a bit salty, saying what he didn’t need to.
‘Talk of me must be nonstop in France too.’
He didn’t grasp the public attention I got. Similar vein to Philip, different flavor.
“I’ll consider if the chance comes.”
I smiled and said so. He seemed to instantly get I wouldn’t show magic.
“Heard you’re number one. I’m top in high school division too—nice meeting someone in the same spot. Since we met, mind a spar later?”
“Number one, huh.”
At my words, a muscle in his mouth twitched.
Handling types like this wasn’t hard. I stared him down and grinned.
“Figured, since you made it here. Rest easy.”
With that, I turned and left.
Better not stir up annoyances.
Mathieu had said he’d rein them in because of guys like this. The leader had gripes with the empire but no intent to mess with me personally—likely because of the age gap, not seeing me as a rival.
Just negative questions: Why appoint a Pleroma kid when they can’t handle Pleroma as is?
But peers? That shifts. Questions turn personal.
‘Why make me your rival?’
In a world where Pleroma runs rampant, no good comes from strutting like that.
I got why foreigners hated us as a Pleroma hotbed—emperor’s karma, not my problem—but if they’re gonna act superior, at least be discreet.
After mingling, eating, and drinking moderately at the banquet, we headed out at 3 p.m.
Free time now.
Academy Pruisance team and us could do as we pleased, as long as we guided them to lodging and provided security at 7 p.m.
Warping to our team lounge at academy corps HQ with friends’ help, Elias—who’d walked fine all along—suddenly clung, staggering.
“Luca.”
“What.”
“Walk for me. Man, how many hours did they make us stand this morning? And tomorrow too?”
“Walk straight.”
As I peeled him off and scolded, Elias grinned.
“Aww, you were super nice when I hurt my leg.”
“Not saying you want to hurt it again?”
“Nah, can’t. It’s the leg you protected~ Anyway…”
Elias whispered.
“Saw those guys today, right?”
I knew what he meant.
“Yeah.”
“When’d we hire mercenaries? Why act like that with no real combat experience?”
The opposing team hadn’t outright insulted Elias, but subtle disdain for the empire must’ve seeped through.
I shrugged.
“Tell me about it. England’ll be the same.”
At least not Pleroma-linked—small mercy.
Thinking that, I dumped Elias on the sofa and sat beside him when someone knocked on the lounge door.
“Come in.”
An academy corps staffer opened the door.
He glanced around, seemingly searching, then fixed on me and composed himself.
“Ah, Lucas Ascanien.”
My name drew all eyes in the lounge. Chatter quieted.
“They asked if you could guide the French team around the city from 4 p.m. That okay?”