Chapter 303
Chapter 303
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 303
Chapter Title: The Ancestors' Desires
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“Strange…”
While I was inwardly shocked by those words, Maria widened her eyes seriously.
“Strange? In what way?”
“Hmm, for example, your height is incredibly tall…”
He seemed about to say more but closed his mouth. It looked like he couldn’t find the right words. Yeah, it’d be hard to point out specifically. Maria responded gravely, as if she’d expected as much.
“This is precisely the appearance of future humans. It’s not strange at all—it’s perfectly natural. Humanity has always progressed, after all.”
“I don’t think humanity always progresses. Anyway, leaving that aside, you’re saying everyone in the future is this tall? I’m the tallest among us at 5.1 Pied de Roi.”
I hesitated for a moment. Right, the metric system hasn’t been invented yet. As far as I remember, 5.1 is just over 165 cm, but considering average heights, it’d be seen as around 170-175 cm in modern times.
The Grand Duke Maria nodded without the slightest hesitation.
“Yes. In the future, everyone is like this.”
“Huh… Why? How could this happen in just 200 years? People 200 years ago were no different from us.”
“It’s because our humanity developed a new body. One closer to Christ.”
The old human in his sixties shook his head and stroked his chin.
“Getting closer to Christ just by growing taller? That doesn’t make any sense to me. You claim to be from the future, yet you look like someone who’d only attend a church with a spire.”
‘Ancestor’s sarcasm skills are impressive.’
“Of course, height has nothing to do with Christ. It’s due to other factors.”
The other nobles just wore puzzled expressions. The old human in his sixties, having already witnessed bizarre sights, seemed willing to hear them out for now and pointed out,
“This question might be a bit offensive, but does that explain why you all look so much like men?”
“It’s a question I expected, so no offense taken. It’s easy to misunderstand, but look closely—we’re quite different from your male bodies. We just seem that way because we’re tall.”
‘…Stretching it…’
These days, even old humans are much taller, so it’s hard for tall old humans to distinguish new humans, and vice versa. Sure enough, the old human in his sixties shook his head.
“Different? Hmm, from what I see, you all look…”
“No? It’s just a misunderstanding. We qualify to enter this club.”
‘No one’s even brought that up yet.’
They must be scared of being kicked out. Honestly, if it were me, I’d have thrown out the nonsense-spewers the moment they arrived, but since they’ve listened this far, they probably won’t chase them out now claiming they’re male ghosts—though isn’t ‘ghost’ the real issue to begin with? If they’d come in full new human attire, we’d have been booted before we could make our case, or they’d have disbanded the meeting.
“Fine. Let’s say that’s true for now. But you walk in a peculiar way.”
Impressive that he noticed that already. It meant everything about us looked odd to them.
“Peculiar how… exactly how do we walk?”
“When wearing a dress, it’s important not to walk too quickly. We’re nobles, aren’t we? You should let your body flow naturally with your legs’ movements, relaxing your shoulders. Isn’t that common sense?”
“No? We walk quickly.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re from the future.”
“……”
That’s why we went with the future human concept, but they’re really milking it. The old human in his sixties must have figured arguing would just tire his mouth—or maybe he truly had nothing to say—as he eyed us suspiciously and asked,
“No maids? Don’t you need a servant to tidy your hat and gloves?”
“We can’t bring a maid to a secretive occult gathering.”
“Hmm.”
The old human in his sixties nodded, looking like that made sense.
“And we can do it ourselves. If one were nearby, we’d ask for help, but is it necessary to always bring one along?”
“Because you’re from the future?”
“Yes. Future humans don’t dress as elaborately as you all, so we can manage on our own.”
The Grand Duke said it proudly.
It’s true. Noble attire simplified continuously from the late 18th to the 19th century. This ties to the rise of the bourgeoisie; compressing that long history, nobles criticized royal vanity, and the bourgeoisie criticized noble vanity, making frugality and restraint virtues. 18th-century people might faint seeing late 19th-century clothing.
They exchanged glances and nodded gravely at each other.
‘No way it’s working?’
The future human concept? ‘That could be because they’re from the future’? Or does this subtle difference make us look even more futuristic? Is it really as the Grand Duke said?
‘Are they all crazy…?’
Shortly after, they said they needed to confer and ushered us out.
Maria put on a trustworthy expression and stepped outside. She then tapped her earring artifact to amplify the voices for me. I followed suit.
‘They’re conferring again over this.’
Shouldn’t they just kick us out? I can’t keep up with old-timey sensibilities. Or rather, what do you expect from people researching magic in a world without it?
Soon, the voices from inside came through clearly.
[They look the part, so it might actually be true.]
“Look the part?!”
Grand Duke Maria cast a soundproofing spell and grabbed my nape. She must think old humans look stranger—people usually see themselves as the norm—and was flabbergasted at the criticism. I patted her shoulder and said,
“Don’t deny it—accept it now.”
[I’ve never seen people that tall in my life. Whether their words are true or not, they appeared before us like ghosts out of nowhere, and their unprecedented attire bothers me greatly.]
[So you’re saying they’re really from the future? For real?! How is that even possible?]
[What we study in occultism is impossible to begin with. It could be. They might truly be… from the future.]
‘No… it’s true, but you’re buying it?’
We did send souls from the future. And it’s theoretically possible in occultism. But believing it? Sure, occultism teaches it’s possible, so it’s believable. Occult enthusiasts all earnestly hope for some spiritual phenomenon in their lives, so to an outsider like me, it sounds insane, but to them, it’s not impossible. This group is like one in the 21st century insisting intelligent life on Mars exists and sending signals to communicate. They’re incomprehensible by common sense. But still, believing this? Of course…!
‘…Ah, I don’t even know anymore.’
At this point, I seriously wonder if everyone else is sane and I’m the crazy one.
[That’s how you see it. Their clothing is quite peculiar. They seem like wealthy nobles from their items and jewelry, but why the clothes…?]
[…If they’re truly future wizards, they could greatly aid our research. Could our success lead to magic in the future?]
[Maybe. They’re women, right? They look like teenage boys, though…]
“…….”
One’s right, one’s definitely not. Now the problem’s just me. My conscience suddenly stabs wildly.
[Their height and sturdy frames might make them look that way. Didn’t the prophecy we deciphered a few days ago mention a wizard whose height reached the ceiling? And no matter how you look at it, their attire couldn’t be invented here—if they’re not from the future, it’s inexplicable. Our world’s nobles might dress like that later.]
[Ugh, terrible taste.]
“…….”
Don’t react realistically to weird stuff. I don’t want to hear that from prophecy believers.
‘I wanna go home.’
It’s psychologically damaging all around. I just want to stay a ghost now. Noticing my real-time pallor, Maria patted my shoulder firmly, nodding seriously as if to toughen up.
“Not comforting at all.”
“Why? Our calculations were spot on. Look—they’re not fully convinced yet, but doubts are easing just as I predicted. Sticking to the future human concept without forcing old human acting was the right call.”
‘I’ll never set foot in occult circles again.’
Is this not believing? How gullible did they think they’d be? Maria’s a good person, but I’m not the vessel for him.
Then, the door finally opened. It felt long for the Grand Duke but excruciatingly short for me. They beckoned us in.
“Come in. We’ve decided to hear your story for now. I am Charlotte de France, president of this Éclat Littéraire.”
The old human in his sixties said, clasping his hands. De France means he’s from the Bourbon royal family.
“So, what have you come here to tell us?”
Good.
Process aside, we’re in. Time to pursue the goal. While Grand Duke Maria answered them, I checked names via the status window.
[Joséphine de Orléans]
[Marie Louise de La Tour d’Auvergne]
[Thérèse de Rohan]
[Victoire de Caulaincourt]
‘Families…?’
I checked the other four and barely suppressed a hollow laugh. Every major old French noble house was represented here.
Even the family that becomes the imperial house of the Third French Empire by 1898 standards. Not imperial now, but it will be in the future.
‘The biggest issue here is they’ll have hordes of descendants.’
Just eight now, but hundreds will inherit their blood later. Hundreds might hear the Peruer of Österreich-Este story too. No guarantee all eight ancestors shared Éclat Littéraire events with family, but no certainty they didn’t either—so investigate all for now.
“Can all future people use magic like you?”
“No. The vast majority are perfect non-mages. Even among the few mages, most only have a core and can’t fully cast, so culturally they’re called non-mages.”
Maria’s conversation with the nobles continued. Thus, we successfully navigated our first meeting.
We left the palace and entered Paris’s narrow alleys of the Adme. Grand Duke Maria, who’d turned off the material projection artifact, leaned against a wall with eyes closed. Not actually closed, but concentrating. Immediately, Emmanuel’s voice came as if on signal.
[…returning. 3, 2, 1.]
“…!”
I stood blankly as someone grabbed my hand and flung me skyward.
“How was it?”
‘…Return trip’s different from departure. Entering the body strains more than leaving…’
Opening my eyes, I saw Emmanuel’s face. Grand Duke Maria was already furiously noting today’s report.
I gathered my thoughts, cast soundproofing, and replied.
“Don’t wanna do it again.”
“Haha. Good. Now block Maria’s astral projection.”
“No.”
“Why?”
I was certain. Removing the straitjacket choking me, I said,
“Something’s caught.”
“What?”
“Astral projection. I haven’t grasped it yet because I learned weird terms like astral realm first…”
Stroking my chin toward the air, I asked him,
“Archduke Emmanuel. What’s the ‘world of mana alone’?”
“Isn’t that the astral realm? Why ask suddenly?”
“I’ve heard ‘world of mana alone’ before from someone unrelated to astral projection.”
“Who?”
“Someone. A school senior.”
“The Princeton one, right.”
“Yeah.”
I answered vaguely and stroked my chin.
World of mana alone. Astral realm… Just theosophical term for astral realm. My occult wariness and outdated notions obscure its true meaning.
From studying theosophy under the Grand Duke, astral realm’s key traits: transcends past, present, future; and emotions. Maria Österreich-Este personally deems its essence ‘world of mana alone.’ Familiar scent.
Right, Pleroma touches emotions, converting to new mana, vitriol. But that’s not all that bugs me.
‘…Ah, almost got it.’
It flickers vaguely. Causality or coincidence? Thief as Pleroma possibility, or not; holy relics, jewels, spiritual rituals, world of mana alone, ability replication… Clues scattered, hard to connect.
Key point: ‘world of mana alone’ isn’t occult-exclusive. Mage academia posits it too, calling it ‘B-World.’
Sound familiar? Richthofen explained his transformation via B-World as world of mana alone. Hints at Pleroma with similar ability. Academia assumes B-World but understands nothing—so I must uncover it somehow.
‘…Hmm.’
Good. Got it.
As theorized, Maria Österreich-Este didn’t die by accident.
Then where’d all his records and items go? Mage academia dismissed occult as heresy, ignoring it; Maria breathed life into dusty ancient tomes, axioms, aphorisms with magic systems, realizing countless occult spells—old humanity’s pipe dreams made real. Why no trace in the world 12 years later? Just early death?
Unlikely hypothesis.
“Archduke Emmanuel.”
“What? Don’t wanna astral project again?”
“No, we’ll do it a few more days even if I hate it. Not that.”
“Then?”
“Suppose you face your life’s worst scenario, and someone you never want to meet comes looking for you.”
“Yes.”
“Premise: something catastrophic happens to me or Grand Duke Maria, so you’ll never see Archduke Emmanuel again.”
Emmanuel squinted incredulously.
“Why such ominous…”
“But someone investigates us. You don’t want to meet them, so you refuse.”
“…….”
“How would you make them meet you?”
“If told to Bavarian-style, I’d meet.”
He smirked, flipping open his cigarette case. I stared, then smirked identically.
“Ha… no answer.”
“Why say this?”
“…….”
“Tell me. There’s a reason you’re suddenly bringing it up. If it’s my field, I’ll advise.”
I watched Emmanuel dab my sweaty brow from astral-disguised B-World jaunt with a handkerchief. He just raised brows expectantly. I spoke without hope.
“Honestly, I firmly believed this was the most detached from what we’ve done…”
“…….”
“But my judgment’s off. Feels like every door leads to one point.”
Frankly, spectating occult madness was easy. Relaxing compared to my usual, novel meeting someone utterly unlike me. But is it trivial? Am I missing the essence?
Emmanuel, peering intensely, smiled unexpectedly—no grim tale.
“Know why? Everything in this world converges to one.”
I looked up at him. Even without specifying, an answer came. Lamp-shadowed face no longer seemed playful.
“Nothing happens without reason.”
“…….”
Nothing more to think now. Just proceed.
Thereafter, we crossed to 18th-century France identically next day, day after.
French nobles grilled 19th-century geopolitics first two days, then occult and mage academia from third.
‘Geopolitics over occult, even for them.’
Makes sense. Knowing family destinies, who cares about occult now. But for me tracing clues, their occult refocus is welcome.
“Grand Duke Maria. Nice to meet again.”
“We saw you yesterday.”
“Still.”
The youngest old human here hugged me lightly, smiling. Similar age, wants to bond. Feeling guilty, I quickly greeted others and sat.
Not just him turning friendly. Initially insulting our looks to our faces, now all adapted. Grateful they accept 180cm+ beanpoles rare even among era’s men—Grand Duke still thinks they doubted much—but conscience hurts.
‘Gotta leave soon…’
Why’s Grand Duke perceptive only now? She gripped my shoulder sternly. I asked the root cause blankly,
“What.”
She shook head. Ignore conscience. New humans won’t grasp my unease.
“Now, let’s start today’s research properly. Time for the lion test tale.”
I sighed at Grand Duke, half-listening to club president.
How to narrow suspects from hundreds, maybe thousands of descendants here? Must ponder. All top nobles; over half retain status later; crucially, French beyond German intelligence reach.
Impossible to investigate hundreds back in 1898 full-scale, so pinpoint here. How? What can I try?
Fortunately, not hard.
I signaled Maria and spoke.
“Before today’s research, a question first.”
All eyes on me. Pre-cleared with Grand Duke, so topic shift fine.
“Your descendants will become mages like us.”
“…….”
Members’ faces stiffened more. Already sensing responsibility.
“Your magic research will pass down generations if not hidden. Occult magic seems absurd, but I’ve seen it work in our world via her often.”
“Calling your sister ‘her’—future people take etiquette seriously?”
Someone queried oddly as I gestured to Grand Duke. I brushed it off, continuing.
“Anyway, so I ask this: If you became mages, what spell formula would you develop?”
Unexpected topic. They just stared silently.
Expected reaction. This question achieves my real purpose here.
“What’s your most desired magic for? Personal desire fine, family glory too.”
“What if we say?”
“I’ll help. This meeting stays secret forever; you’ll gain spells for posterity. Can’t use now, but if mana chance comes like ours, then.”
President nodded. No initial wariness in eyes, but curious why.
“Why such favor? We’re interested in mage academia but not casters like you—just occult researchers.”
“Think of it as descendants’ favor. Can’t say more due to causality.”
Causality what? Spouted randomly, but my sincere tone/conveyance worked; no rebuttals, just gleaming eyes. They have much to say but await me.
“Be honest, I’ll help somewhat. Don’t miss this once-in-lifetime chance.”
Once-in-lifetime for me, but whatever. I smiled trustworthily.
Thus, they wanted time to think—meet next day. Needed to organize goals/fields. Oddly systematic, but truer to history’s good for me.
Next day, I sat alone at the ten-person table. Awkward solo. Then one noble entered, sat before me.
“Duchess de Rohan’s ready already?”
“Yes.”
He answered gravely, then intensely without prompt,
“Want to become King of France?”
“…….”
“Why no answer?”
“…No… wait a moment.”
Ambitious start…
Brain buffers. Similar goal pre-Catherine the Great/Maria Theresa reigns? Fortunately, no Rohan coup toppling Bourbons in my memory.
Anyway, realizing I’m the only commoner dizzies me. Grasping frayed sanity, I asked,
“…What must be done to become King of France?”
“Our house must rise; to do that, crush other nobles’ spirits first. Ensure no one knows we were originally there.”
“Precisely. Understood.”
Right so far. But me doing that?
Such act’d make me history’s worst mage. Can’t hide from continent/America’s billions sans universal magic. But no need weigh feasibility now. I jotted a simplified divine power formula from memory.
Next entrant’s request mundane: Joséphine de Orléans, the 20s noble I first greeted. Orléans smiled relaxedly, shyly asking,
“Way to connect with loved one?”
After 200% coup-ready guy, this deflates. Yeah, expected this.
“So, manipulate emotions? Temporary yes, permanent no. Even temp needs potion, not formula—can’t provide drugs.”
“I see. Then…”
Orléans smiled ruefully, paused, then prepped words. Not spur-of-moment.
“Magic to stay secretly by loved one? Rejected, so invisible man? Haha. Possible?”
“…Well…”
Reminds of someone. Humans’ inner thoughts fun. Suppressing chill/chuckle,
“Exactly how? Breaking in? Stalking everywhere?”
“Not exactly but…”
‘It’s exactly that, what’s ‘not’…’
Under grilling, admitted yes. Congrats on successful creep surveillance desire.
Next, noble with little interaction; still major 1898 survivor.
“Duchess Victoire de Caulaincourt, right? First, what magic drew you here?”
“Came to revive dead sibling. Don’t think possible, but trying. Does Grand Duke Maria know such?”
“Regretfully, not standard in our era.”
“I see. But can’t change future? If I pursue mage academia, possible?”
“What do you mean?”
“Advancing mage academia overall advances resurrection research too, no?”
Eyes fixed unblinking on my Peruer artifact. Eerie.
Varied requests followed. Two families wanted French king: one self, one husband. These nobles need citizen revolution soon. Hope families ignorant of each other’s ambitions.
“Why investigate like this?”
Post-meeting, real Grand Duke Maria asked, hand on shoulder. I tapped his Peruer in my ear, shifted guise, replied.
“Not curious why they obsess mage academia? I am. Might advance our history’s too.”
“Hmm, goals not so pure, unexpectedly?”
“Didn’t expect pure.”
Maria Österreich-Este’s among noblest. Held unknown techniques, never for personal gain. Expected not all like him. Now, pinpoint who/which house’s descendant ties to jewel theft.
And I found the answer.
* * *
“Meow!”
Exiting extra chapter, animal noise. Something between neck/bed. Vestibular barely functional, I bolted up, grabbing Pie.
“When’d you come? Scared me.”
“Just now!”
Pie shot sentences at my head like our soul-state chat with Grand Duke Maria, continuing.
“Narké said he’s coming soon—really now~”
“…Insight covers that?”
Feels like Buddha’s palm. Unsure if apt for him.
Incredibly, door burst open post-sentence.
“Ah, Lucas.”
“…….”
Panting from run, Narké smiled. Removed hat, perched on bed. From Hermitish Gesellschaft? Hair yellow. Remembering something, I spoke.
“Perfect timing.”
“Huh?”
“Got a clue.”
Narké, not here for clues, raised brow, flustered. Burst laughing.
“Why.”
“No, we looped roundabout; you straight-lined. Was gonna suggest looping together…”
Narké shrugged, smiling leisurely.
“Clue’s good. Spill.”
Already read mind with ability.
Since I nag stop reading thoughts, wants me verbal. I smiled lightly at his relaxed face, spoke clearly.
“Investigate Orléans house descendants. Focus on direct heir of old human Joséphine de Orléans.”