Chapter 239
Chapter 239
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 239
Chapter Title: Surviving as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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“As Your Excellency commands.”
As we crossed the hospital corridor, a researcher in a black coat beside the guardsman addressed me with a stern expression. It was Dr. Chianhak, the current advisory committee chairman of the Counter-Terrorism Task Force.
I was on my way to assist the task force at the crown prince’s orders.
The guard mages escorting us from behind cast a soundproofing spell.
“We’ve uncovered the real terrorist plot—their true plan. We’ve already completed the process of checking how far the issue has spread without provoking the perpetrators. All that’s left is the help of Your Excellency Ascanien and the other mages.”
“…….”
“The note we sent from the task force—you burned it, I presume.”
“I did.”
I’d burned Elias’s letter too. Leo and Yulia’s, Heike and Ulrike’s letters had been in the safe, but I’d confirmed they’d all turned to ash in the fire.
Personally, I’d wanted to keep Elias’s letter, but I couldn’t let private sentiments ruin the mission.
“Good. The task force inspector has checked every item in Your Excellency’s room one by one and will send them to your residence. But you haven’t heard the details yet. Allow me to explain quickly now.”
The doctor cleared his throat and composed himself before speaking again.
“As Your Excellency surmised, the contaminated beast incident discovered at 6 p.m. on February 21st was a mere decoy. All Pentalon tourists have cleared Brandenburg entry, and warping from Brandenburg to the interior is now impossible. The 1st Imperial Guard Infantry Division handling Pentalon inspections since last night reported no anomalies in mana.”
They’d deployed a massive number of personnel for inspections. Of course, with so many visitors, it was only natural.
The Imperial Guard Corps, the corps-level command stationed in Berlin for capital defense, currently had three divisions. The 1st Imperial Guard Infantry Division, despite its name, consisted of 15,000 regular mages. Those who couldn’t join the Imperial Mage Association were typically integrated into the Imperial Army this way. It was a system the Empire had established after the Alsace-Lorraine battle from Marco Schreiber’s memories to silence mobilization complaints.
In any case, the lack of issues was good news.
“In other words, no biological weapons have been detected in Berlin or Brandenburg so far. We’ve installed barriers and defensive mana fields from underground to 300 meters above ground along city borders, Brandenburg borders, and all checkpoints. No contamination attempts were found here either, and all mana fields are operating normally without damage.”
“I see.”
“Now, about their terrorist plot.”
At the hospital elevator, the doctor extended his hand to me.
I glanced down at his pitch-black leather glove, then back at his face. He met my eyes and spoke in a grave tone.
“Once you proceed from here, Your Excellency will officially join this counter-terrorism operation. You’ll be taking on the mission to save millions of subjects.”
“I know. Isn’t the entire Eschet already involved in the counter-terrorism plan?”
“Precisely one person is.”
I nodded.
I understood what he meant. The whole team was mobilized, true. But of our seven, only Leo’s name was on the top-secret documents. Narke, being foreign, couldn’t access classified info without special circumstances, and Elias was deliberately excluded by the palace.
I took his hand. The moment his glove pressed my wrist, darkness fell before my eyes.
I braced my legs to steady myself. Fortunately, no one stared oddly, so no visible reaction.
The hospital’s antiseptic smell was gone. Before us now stretched an underground strategy room with gray walls, dim lighting, and echoing sounds.
There stood the one waiting for me.
The Imperial Guard Corps commander I’d glimpsed at the meeting three days ago extended his hand.
“Hugo Strauss. No need for introductions since I know Your Excellency. Thank you sincerely for joining our plan. In the remaining 1 hour and 53 minutes, we must protect the subjects across the 100 km² event site spanning Berlin and Brandenburg.”
The opening stadium held 150,000, but more roamed the Pentalon site for tourism.
Skipping proper self-introduction and formalities wasn’t odd. The situation didn’t allow it.
1 hour 53 minutes. The wall clock’s second hand ticked loudly. Our only time to thwart their new plan.
“I want to know what the new plan is and my role.”
“Your Excellency’s role is to provide us with the most efficient ideas. His Highness the Crown Prince personally ordered it, deeming you the strategist for reviewing this terrorism countermeasure.”
“That weighs heavy on my shoulders. I’m just a new rider in the Association, yet entrusted with such a grave duty—unexpected.”
The lives of hundreds of thousands at the Pentalon site hung on fewer than ten people, including me. My inference said this wasn’t the end of the terror, but we had to handle this plan first.
This crown prince fellow treated national affairs like a game, assigning me to it.
Frankly, discussing terror with him was absurd. At least he took me seriously.
He shook his head, knowing my intent.
“No need to worry. After 72 hours of thorough preparation, our government and military have a system to defend against any attack. Besides Your Excellency, there are three more leaders including myself and Dr. Chianhak, so plenty of chances to share ideas.”
He checked his watch and patted my shoulder.
“Within 1 hour 51 minutes, if physical opportunity allows.”
He extended his hand.
Another warp, clearly. I swallowed and took it.
The scene shifted. Similar to before, but walls and ceiling of low-chroma turquoise anti-mana ore to prevent mana spread.
An empty room. Only a small desk in the corner, extinguisher, mana lamp illuminating us, thick steel door. And the red button the commander held.
Surveying, I murmured.
“The terrorists tampered with the mana lamp, I see.”
“As expected, you spot it immediately. Yes. This is a replica set from two hours ago by our task force.”
The commander pointed upward.
“It looks like a standard mana lamp.”
“Yes.”
“It is one. However….”
He pressed the button firmly.
KABOOM—! Crash—
I reflexively closed then opened my eyes.
At 30 cm above, the barrier held shattered lamp glass.
The wooden base beside the mana-supplying glass tube was aflame.
“White phosphorus. Fine powder inside the lamp. Fire melts the glass tube, heat transfers via pipe….”
KABOOM—!
The same roar.
Another lamp near the wall exploded.
“Chain reaction, exploding faster.”
“Hmm… White phosphorus.”
“Yes. Your Excellency deemed the white phosphorus matches a code before. With the matches vanishing from police custody and today’s phosphorus bombing attempt, they might not be code but a preview of this terror.”
The commander spoke tonelessly, shook his head, and continued.
“This is just police opinion. Personally, I think those eleven letters are code as Your Excellency said. Foretelling today’s incident. Pity we couldn’t decode early; the match theft blinded us.”
Instead of replying, I stared at him.
No more info on this topic.
I returned to the prior subject.
“White phosphorus has a low ignition point, so it’d ignite easily inside a lamp. But why now, not earlier?”
“Exactly the issue. Ingeniously made. Phosphorus powder encased in protective mana. Inject new mana into the lamp pipe, and the enclosing mana rapidly vibrates, colliding with phosphorus. The spell array triggers it. I said ‘faster’ because: pipe mana plus fire heat transfers to other lamps, raising pressure quicker.”
I nodded slowly, listening intently.
No clue who did this, but a worthy foe. Someone else sparked similar thoughts days ago.
Threatening at least hundreds of thousands, up to millions of citizens? Not amusing.
The commander continued.
“Another problem: unknown drug in the mana lamp pipes.”
He waved, dispelling the barrier, bunding glass shards with mana and dropping them.
From his jacket, a small vial. He uncapped, shook four times. Clear reagent turned black.
“Hm.”
“You know. Rampage drug. We diluted to 1/5 concentration, harmless to health. Phosphorus raises internal pressure to shatter glass; the real threat is this. Perpetrators injected high-concentration rampage drug into pipes. Mana light mixes it into air. Glass shatters, drug enters breathed air. No easy fuel now, so no spread, but in banquet halls or greenhouses, more issues.”
“Elaborate.”
“Yes. A true Pleroma plan.”
“…….”
As I fell silent, he extended his hand. Warp time.
Back to the underground control room.
Now the Magic Minister, task force chair, sat at the table. Others who should attend weren’t; clearly deployed for countermeasures.
The commander silently shook his hand, then addressed me.
“We might dismantle Pleroma leadership via this Pentalon terror. They won’t miss this chance, blinded by gain. Greedy foes kneel easiest.”
We’ll see.
Pleroma leadership opted out of this plan.
Info from a high-ranking favored Pleroma, at least monsignor level. No point sharing; I’d end up in Imperial Intelligence torture chambers.
I gathered my thoughts and spoke.
“You seem to have solutions already. No need for me here?”
“What solution do you propose, Your Excellency?”
“Channel divine power at mana pipe starts. But perpetrators watch those. So remove ceiling finishes in boiler rooms or storage between rooms, expose pipes, cast purification there. Midway injection solves faster.”
Not called for such obvious fixes.
As expected, the commander smiled. Tension for 1:40 to opening lingered, but confidence from preparations showed.
“Correct. We’re preparing that. Post-measure: with Bavarian Royal Pharmacy College, developed air purification neutralizing rampage drug in 5 seconds. 72 hours ago, installed new U.S.-developed mana sprinklers on all venue ceilings. Lamps explode? Citizen protection activates flawlessly.”
As he finished, advisory chair Dr. Chianhak spoke.
“But problems remain.”
“What?”
“First, we don’t know exact contamination extent. Detected anomalies in opening steam room lamps, uncovered truth—but stops there. No heat rise elsewhere; unknown spread.”
I nodded.
Makes sense.
“Second, no way to recover phosphorus powder. Suppose we suction pipe air from both ends. Mana lamps included, site-wide blackout inevitable. No delay in cooling spells, as you know.”
“Hm…”
So, they summoned me for the optimal quick solution.
“No need to recover phosphorus immediately.”
All stared silently.
I continued.
“Attacking pipe holes signals execution near, you said.”
“Yes. Perpetrators watch pipe starts, inter-pipe valve joints. Need spells there.”
“Building cross-sections?”
Unnecessary, really. But better to feign thought.
Pretending to study, I tapped the gap between floor height and ceiling height.
“Cast cooling between floors.”
“…….”
“Precisely, mana lamp pipes run between ceiling finish and slab. Drilling walls messy; limit spell to that concrete height. Even programmed mana agitating gas won’t ignite; cooling drops temp near freezing, far from flashpoint. No easy reaction like before. Spectators may complain of floor chill, but better than firestorm.”
Dr. Chianhak stroked his chin, nodding. I pressed on.
“If not, direct ceiling cooling indoors—but brace for complaints as indoor temp nears freezing. Obvious, of course.”
Silence. I checked the clock.
1:34, now 33. Hands jerked.
I eyed the table group.
“Perhaps disappointing—no special drugs or spells. But with 1:33 to opening, no new facilities or techniques, this is my limit.”
“No, not disappointment. Impressively quick countermeasures. Low-cost, high-efficiency; economists would applaud your cost-effectiveness. Regret not having you sooner.”
The Magic Minister’s words.
This era’s people spoke too literarily compared to modern—overdrawn metaphors.
Anyway, they’d thought of it too, just slower.
Relieved. With these brains, failure would’ve sent me packing.
The commander spoke.
“If Your Excellency deems this best… fine. No other ideas?”
“No.”
“Then, selecting cooling spell sites is key. All floors, rooms in site buildings need 1,000 mages minimum. Sudden disappearance of ice/cooling specialists raises suspicion. They’re organized, watching via division. Limited manpower; target contaminated points precisely, minimize cooling areas.”
Beep—
1:30.
Answering, eyes met. Expressionless stances, but tension thickened.
Terrorists peak at climax tension. Post-opening lull possible, but mistaking for true respite spells doom.
Mobilize mages, set timings, standby—execution time demands decision now.
No drug catch in barriers means deliberate avoidance. Easy pipe drug detection? Unlikely.
New shopping district, international theme parks for Pentalon tourists, museums, greenhouses galore. Can’t inspect all.
I inhaled deeply, eyed them.
“…Summary: staggered cooling exposes us, prompts instant lamp detonation site-wide. To block, simultaneous full-site cooling—but manpower short, mass specialist pull risks suspicion. Thus, find injection points, selective precise cooling.”
“Correct.”
“But selective impossible time-wise. Mass mages for blanket cooling faster, safer.”
“We agree.”
The commander nodded.
Bluntly demanding my masterstroke.
“Of course. Then, a slight workaround?”
“Workaround?”
“Put on a show.”
“A show?”
Absurdity nearly drew commander’s scoff—crown prince thought checked it. Minister awaited.
Dr. Chianhak, grasping, shook head gravely.
“I understand. Child’s play, but valid workaround. States have systematically used entertainment to distract citizens since antiquity—textbook tactic.”
Boasting this. I noted my stopwatch hitting 1:28.
He addressed others.
“But today’s target isn’t subjects—Pleroma. Unplanned, but Pentalon branch-wide ice/snow performance ideal. Cooling mage pull won’t seem odd. Your Excellency Ascanien proposed this, right?”
“Hm.”
Even fed, some complain.
Sudden pre-opening add-on screams suspicious. Perpetrators sharpen senses. Sudden unscheduled cooling show? Fear disruption, extreme action possible. Oversensitive? Thieves get jumpy.
Safer way exists.
I shook my head.
“Similar, but no. How about this?”
* * *
I gazed at the sky.
9:40 p.m., time for total dark. Yet bright as 6 p.m. sunset.
Fires everywhere. Fire specialists and circus veterans from across Empire deployed site-wide.
I stood before Heiligthum—new Pentalon art museum. Spree River ahead; kids on sculpture boats launched sky lanterns. At height, they scattered, mana turning to fiery shapes aloft. Novel? Not to me. Kids shrieked wildly on deck.
Fireworks mana rained down. Bourgeois Old Humans strolling museum park laughed, snatching with hands. Fire too.
I snatched floating embers—mana-treated, non-spreading—like water droplets rolling in palm.
‘Hand warmer material.’
Hot. February 24th winter night, riverfront—heat tempted coat discard.
Casual thought fled; 20 minutes to opening.
I released the fire skyward, eyed approaching Old Human.
One unwrapped scarf, fanned, shook head.
“Hot.”
“Cooling spells per floor indoors soon. Stay inside.”
“Oh.”
Middle-aged woman eyed me, rolled eyes, smiled greeting. No overt dislike, but recognized, surprised.
I held door; outgoing indoor breeze raised her brows.
“Hm, inside cooler indeed. Thanks.”
“No trouble.”
“Cooler better; tell them sooner.”
She joked, waved, entered.
Outdoor heat blocked from indoors—lest all phosphorus ignite—via outer wall mana barriers. Inside cool, yet people sweltered.
I smiled farewell, shut door. Tapped artifact.
Natural cover set. No more delay.
Head up casually. All sky-bound flames; none watched me.
Task force awaited via artifact. Soundproofed, I uttered preset code.
“Nervous as start nears.”
[…….]
“Read Ezekiel 34 from the beginning?”
* * *
“Getting chilly.”
Inside opening stadium, Elias murmured at outer 1st-floor seats, eyeing high distant screen.
Beep—
Alerts began.
1 minute to opening. Most officials, spectators seated. Faces rigid.
Elias eyed Leo beside.
“Luca?”
Leo shook head instead. Gaze on dim mana lamps lighting seats. Open ceiling minimized risk here. But eyes drawn. Opening now start or end? Fork.
Leo opened pocket watch, eyed dwindling seconds.
BOOM—
Fireworks chain.
Petals scattered. Endless sky divine power sparkled starlike. Space-magic expanded for 150,000 felt otherworldly. Cheers drowned 10-minute band prelude.
Beep—
‘10.’
Official artifact beeped 10 seconds as Elias, staring front, addressed Leo.
Nothing heard. Leo stared ahead wordless. Elias hadn’t sought reply? Stood grim silent.
Over 50 nations’ flags unfurled below seats. Countdown roars swelled. Few blinks: 4 seconds passed.
‘5.’
Brass highs rapid. Trumpet blared.
Cheers deafened; ears snatched faint.
‘4.’
Sky divine power ceased.
Mana lamps dimmed; night sky brightest. Somewhere, stage pulley creaked.
Off-beat; ‘3’ alert skipped quick.
‘2.’
Music ceased.
Leo snapped watch shut, lips moved.
‘1.’
Lights on.
Emperor visible one side. Mana screen close-up: 150,000 frenzied cheers battered ears.
Emperor spoke sternly.
[Beloved New and Old Humans of all nations, welcome to Berlin.]