Chapter 300
Chapter 300
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 300
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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“Why do we have to do that?”
“Isn’t that what you want, Sir Everett? Have you ever lost out by listening to me?”
“This is different...!”
“Ehehe~”
Emmanuel clamped my mouth shut. I could see Maria looking shocked. Ignoring that, Emmanuel cast a soundproofing spell and spoke.
“It’s just advice. Does it sound like nonsense to you?”
“......”
“You’ve been saying for days now that you want to get closer to us.”
So that’s it.
Astral projection is the tool to soften Archduke Maria’s heart? What a twisted taste. No, actually, I wanted to criticize it even more harshly than that.
Then, unexpectedly, Emmanuel said something surprising.
“We want to get closer to you too, Sir Everett.”
* * *
“......”
[Stop.]
Someone snatched the cheroot from my mouth, and only then did I slowly open my eyes. I was just about to spit it out anyway.
[How was it?]
Emmanuel pressed a handkerchief to my lips and asked.
Forget how it was—I just wanted to sleep. The chandelier light blurred in my vision. I slid my body down from where it had been propped against the headboard, pulled the covers over me, and closed my eyes. My body was exhausted, and I wanted my mind to follow suit, but the sound of the Archduke scribbling furiously on paper nearby—as if he were about to tear it apart—grated on my nerves. The noise from the fountain pen nib irritated me more than the clip popping off my shirt during the process. Emmanuel chuckled as he tried to pull back the covers I’d drawn up.
[You asked why an occult ritual needs bedding. That’s why I said to listen to someone with experience.]
“......”
Normally, no one attempts astral projection with pillows and blankets fully set up—honestly, it seemed more like he just wanted a nap—so I’d been a bit flustered when guided to Emmanuel’s guest room to use the bedding meant for sound sleep. In my imagination, the bed for an occult ritual was something like a surgical table draped in white cloth atop a pentagram or hexagram lit by weird candles, not this perfectly normal bed. Maybe I’d been underestimating them as total lunatics.
‘More importantly... I braced myself, but nothing much happened.’
First off, I wondered if Luca’s body would return to normal once I separated from it, but I hadn’t even achieved astral projection yet. Second, I’d expected a bad reaction like during the Primrose Pass incident or with Andrea Friedman, and while there was one, it was much milder this time. It wasn’t a drug that knocked you out completely, and every time I started showing odd reactions, the Archduke would cast something like a spell on me from the side—it was so ridiculous I almost laughed. Of course, it came with some bizarre incantation.
Suggesting astral projection was basically saying we were doing drugs. Not old-humanity narcotics, of course. If it were that, I’d have bolted without a second thought. What I’d had in my mouth just now wasn’t a cigarette either. I’d thought I could be a bit freer in the extra chapters, but I hadn’t forgotten my initial resolve. It was thick paper like cigarette paper, infused with a “spiritual ritual” magic drug for accessing the astral plane, lit and smoked—non-addictive and flushed out immediately.
Even so, because of this bizarre goal of entering the spiritual world, there was the issue of seeing things that shouldn’t be visible. Whether it was my hallucination or I’d truly stepped into the spiritual realm, something was floating before my eyes.
‘No matter how I look at it, common sense says it’s a hallucination.’
Given the purpose, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d really dipped a foot into the true spiritual world.
Still, thankfully, my soul didn’t leave my body. I’d done my best following Emmanuel’s advice. With that thought, sleepiness washed over me drowsily.
[You can’t sleep yet.]
Emmanuel finally wrested the covers away. The drug’s effects hadn’t worn off, so the air felt chilly. At that moment, Maria—who’d been staring blankly—turned, snatched the cheroot from Emmanuel’s hand, and inhaled the magic drug.
Emmanuel looked down at his now-empty hand, shrugged at me—recalling how I’d brought up oral microbiomes—and asked.
[Still want to get closer?]
“......”
I looked at Maria Osterraichiste. His back was to me as he continued scribbling on the paper. Whether from the drug or whatever, his head bobbed rhythmically. Even to me, who’d tried astral projection alongside him, the sight screamed lunatic.
[He’s busy organizing his thoughts into poetry. Go ahead—it’s fine.]
I had no idea where he was getting his poetic inspiration from, but this meant the drug’s effects still hadn’t worn off for him. Still want to get closer? After this weird experience, seeing him satisfied, bobbing his head while “organizing poetry,” and still want to get closer? Did he think I couldn’t grasp how deeply into the occult Maria was just from occult lessons? It was definitely beyond my expectations.
Even so, my answer was set.
“Yes. I want to get even closer.”
[......]
Emmanuel looked at me with incredulous eyes and snorted.
[You’re a strange one too, Sir Everett.]
Emmanuel offered me a magic drug that cleared the mind.
* * *
After that, I spent three more days coming and going from Emmanuel’s estate.
Emmanuel’s advice that “astral projection would help” was spot on.
[When you study the occult...]
“......”
[You encounter countless techniques and items the magical academia hasn’t uncovered yet.]
I set the magic-drug cheroot down on the silver tray and drank the elixir Emmanuel had prepared.
This made it my fourth astral projection attempt.
Maria had already come to his senses and changed into fresh clothes. He tugged his tie straight as he spoke, his voice now clearer.
“The magical academia rejects ‘traditional magic’ for religious reasons. But that’s not good for magic’s progress. We must rediscover lost techniques and our own relics to contribute to universal happiness.”
Maybe because he wasn’t rigidly sitting at a desk studying, Maria had started opening up more since the astral projection attempt. He was sharing his philosophy right now. Thanks to the elixir, I felt heat returning to my body bit by bit and kicked off the covers.
“The Lion Duke’s treasure chest doesn’t seem all that related to universal happiness.”
“It might look that way.”
Maria sat on the sofa by the desk and lit a real cheroot.
“That’s your magnum opus, Sir Everett, not mine. I’m searching for the Lion Duke’s treasure chest like you, but it’s just a means to an end. My true magnum opus is supreme knowledge. With what I uncover, I’ll elevate this era’s magic to the next level.”
“Hmm.”
“The Lion Duke’s treasure chest isn’t a box full of money or jewels. Sure, since the owner was nobility, it’s probably gold... hahaha. It’s simply a box containing records from those who discovered magic before us. Can you imagine how much we could learn from it?”
I knew it. He’d developed a technique to duplicate unique abilities but had no ambition for promotion—it was obvious. I lowered my rolled-up sleeves and asked.
“What exactly is in those records?”
“The method for all humanity to wield magic.”
“......”
A chill ran down my spine, and I looked straight at Maria. Noticing my gaze, he glanced back, then swept back the disheveled hair that had fallen over his forehead from sleep. Wrong. Now wasn’t the time to fuss over his appearance.
“I think it’d be better not to find it.”
Everyone wielding magic?
A pipe dream. What most non-mages wish for. At the same time, what those monopolizing power in this world fear most. Why were the Catacombs persecuted? It wasn’t their fault. It all stemmed from noble mages fearing a commoner revolution.
I admired his goal too, but I knew the truth. The world stayed the same twelve years from now. No pessimism or cynicism—just the timeline I’d lived through.
He dies two years from now, and my investigations said it was an accident, but maybe this radical goal killed him.
The Archduke nodded as if understanding, but his words opposed me.
“How many suffer because they can’t use magic? Why do only nobles monopolize mana?”
“......”
“Why can’t the bodies of those whose ancestors were commoners accept mana? Whose scheme is this? Christ’s will? The work of the one supreme Elohim? Is this truly what Malak wanted? Did Yahweh send prophets for this? Have you never thought it strange? What would Augustine and Aquinas say if they reincarnated and saw this? I wonder if those two could even lift their heads at the state of things today.”
He called the same essence by four different names. Why mana concentrated in nobles. Sure, some commoners are born with it without inheritance, but they’re rare. Magic was a noble privilege from the start. He was questioning why.
His rebellious tone made me wait calmly. With faint sorrow in his expression, Maria persuaded me.
“Why has God permitted this evil?”
“Why did God allow murder on earth?”
“......”
Interpreting my words alone, Maria smiled regretfully and replied.
“You don’t agree with me.”
“Of course not. No one knows this world’s absurdities better than I do. Why wouldn’t nausea rise? There’s no essential difference between the irrationalities there and here, so I just endure the urge to vomit as always. And I’ll keep doing so.”
“......”
I’d said something incomprehensible to Maria, but he listened silently.
“I’m not claiming I’m right and Your Highness Archduke Maria is wrong. Nor am I trying to break your will. But even if Augustine and Aquinas returned to life, what changes? Contrary to your expectation, they wouldn’t bow to the reality where only nobles wield magic. Humanity must still accept that this world is the result of our own failings.”
Maria understood immediately. He raised an eyebrow and let out a hollow breath.
“...Yes. Forget what I said earlier. I only understood you superficially, Sir Everett. Now I see you share my sentiments. You’re quite weary... but your concern for the world seems the same as mine. Isn’t it?”
“......”
“Same for me. And yet I remain a Christian, believing in the love Christ taught. That’s why I must find my magnum opus now. Because Christ showed me love, I must atone for the sins I’ve committed against my brothers. If all can wield magic, couldn’t the inequalities worsened by magic be alleviated somewhat? Couldn’t we check those who wield power through magic?”
“You don’t call it a sin against God.”
“God willed us to love one another, but we humans didn’t—so it might as well be a sin against Him.”
That was so him. With nothing more to say beyond respect, I smiled in lieu of a reply. The Archduke grinned and clapped.
“Now, since we’re on the topic of the chest, let’s get back to it.”
“What?”
“Let’s try astral body state one more time! We’ve made no progress investigating the Lion Duke’s treasure chest so far.”
“......”
Going to the astral plane now to find the treasure chest...? Is that even possible in astral projection?
Despite just changing clothes, the Archduke shrugged off his jacket and flopped back onto the bed.
“This time, we’ll try a slightly different approach. Sir Everett, cast a mind-manipulation spell on me?”
“Pardon?”
“This time, through hypnosis, I’ll send my astral body to the old-humanity era. Post-magic era info has limits.”
“...And?”
No need to ask more.
Now I was sitting by the Archduke with Emmanuel, waving my wand. Emmanuel had asked if I could get close to the Archduke, but now he was sighing at him instead. I touched my wand to the Archduke’s forehead and said what he’d instructed.
“Yes... you are 100 years before Ion Porso. It’s the 18th century A.A. Let’s go back slowly.”
“We’re actually doing this.”
Emmanuel let out a hollow laugh.
“Actually doing it?”
“Before, he said he needed to get friendly with his family’s divine power mage. He admitted it scared him from his own house and borrowed one from ours.”
“For this?”
“Probably. Why do you think I brought up astral projection a few days ago? He kept talking about going back in time with it and such.”
Ah...
A true occult maniac beyond expectations. Too many kinds of lunatics around.
I didn’t expect the Archduke to accomplish anything here— was astral projection even possible?—but helping him probably wouldn’t drastically alter his future. If it was something he’d do anyway.
I tried to forget I was participating in this absurdity and asked.
“But how do you search all of France with astral projection? Pick spots from the treasure chest map and travel there?”
It wasn’t even a real map—just coordinates to decode, no drawing or solid clues.
“Something like... a purified spirit guides itself to the right place. Astral bodies can fundamentally go anywhere at will. That’s why he’s so desperate for astral projection.”
“......”
“I know what you’re thinking. Hahaha!”
“Yes...”
At this point, it was getting scary. I was the one who’d truly experienced soul-body discord, so logically they should fear what happened to me—but they terrified me more.
Frankly, it boiled down to whether spirits even exist. No matter how tied to my experience, on some level it was unbelievable.
And so, two days into attempting astral projection to the 18th century. We did the same the next day. Soul detached, I pressed to his forehead and said.
“Come back now. You’re returning to 1886. To Prince Emmanuel’s house.”
“Your voice is losing sincerity.”
Emmanuel snorted beside me. As I was about to quietly ask if he expected sincerity, the Archduke bolted upright.
“...!”
Emmanuel looked startled as the man who’d been peacefully asleep suddenly rose. I was shocked too by the abrupt reaction. As if he hadn’t been sleeping, the Archduke grabbed my shoulder and shouted.
“Sir Everett! In the 18th, 18th century too...!”
“Yes, go on.”
“There’s an occult club!”
“...Obviously there would be.”
“No!”
Emmanuel shook his head. Don’t engage anymore, it said. But the Archduke spilled on.
“The Bourbon royal family discussed magic. One of the royal social clubs hosted by the queen—it’s actually a literary club for noblewomen. But over time, occult elements like magic research crept in...”
“So. Get to the point.”
Emmanuel cut him off.
“The Lion Duke’s treasure chest is being studied there. Once research ends, they’ll burn it or hide it with new ciphers. That’s how we occult enthusiasts are.”
“...Yes, so...?”
“Let’s go together, Sir Everett. I share what I’ve learned, they share what they know—mutual exchange for huge progress. We need to find how old-humanity bodies can use magic too.”
Emmanuel let out a hollow laugh. So did I. Suddenly dragging me along? How do I even go? Not just spectating spiritually—actually participating?
I wanted to grab him by the scruff, but couldn’t. I persuaded calmly.
“...We new humanity can’t join.... We look different from the start. You don’t even know how high society ladies act, Your Highness. And we don’t have era clothes anyway.”
Maybe clothes get handled spiritually too...
I held back such ridiculous questions.
More than that, I wanted to ask if astral projection was even real, but since he wasn’t babbling nonsense from nothing, and spiritual realms might not allow talk, I went practical.
Thankfully, Emmanuel straightened up, then laughed incredulously and voiced my thoughts.
“First off, maybe Your Highness just had a vision.”
The Archduke seemed surprised Emmanuel used honorifics seriously again, but his expression showed no backing down. Emmanuel noticed quick and switched to my strategy.
“Even if you found such a place for real. You think just wearing a dress suffices? As new humanity, your bone structure gives it away. No shoes, hats, jewels—nothing prepared. Speech, gait— all unprepared. Cultural knowledge? Help has limits; don’t overreach.”
Spot on. Tailored persuasion should sway him. But the Archduke shook his head.
“Trifles like that? Artifacts can handle it. What can’t my techniques do?”
“How do you transport clothes? Just clothes enough? Speech and gait then? Stands out hugely.”
“......”
Emmanuel was right again. But that wasn’t the point now.
‘...Hold on.’
A mad possibility from the original past flashed in my mind.