Chapter 307
Chapter 307
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 307
Chapter Title: Black Eagle's Oath
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Elias rolled his eyes before slamming his fist on the desk.
“What?! If I asked you to rip out my heart, you’d do it?!”
“That’s a bit much.”
“Ah~ I’m touched!”
“I said that’s a bit much.”
Elias ignored me, shot to his feet, and flung himself across the table to pull me into a hug. I saw the chess pieces toppling over. The game I’d so carefully set up was over just like that. I hadn’t bothered stopping him anyway—Elias had seemed likely to capture my phone with an en passant, and while it was just a simple blunder, in my current situation it was no ordinary mistake. He’d seriously pondered whether I’d deliberately sacrificed the phone to exploit his slip-up. I didn’t feel like racking my brains any further. More importantly, the porcelain pieces he’d knocked to the floor caught my eye, so I quickly pried him off. While I picked them up, Elias casually stepped onto the desk, leaped, and perched on the back of my sofa.
“I’m touched and all, but if you do whatever I say, I’ll feel bad for you.”
“It’s not about being swayed by your whims—it’s just reflecting your wishes.”
“Wow~ Even so, to agonize over giving me the Black Eagle? What an honor. The empire’s highest medal, no less…”
Elias paused before speaking.
“No need to agonize at all.”
The playfulness was gone from his eyes now. I looked up at him silently, and he gave me a look like he thought I’d forgotten.
“No reason to even ask me. It’s a medal you should’ve received long ago. If things had gone as they should’ve, you—not Adrian Ascanien—would’ve been the crown prince.”
“…”
I didn’t reply, shifting my gaze to the messed-up chessboard.
“Every medal your brother got was rightfully yours. You’re finally claiming what was always meant for you, through your own efforts. Even if that slimy Abraham impersonator or Adelbert had been in charge… hm, Adelbert likes you, so he might’ve handed it over ages ago. Point is, even if some neighborhood grandpa had been on the throne, it would’ve gone to you. It’s what the heir to the ruling house deserves. I know you fought to reclaim your position—why stop you from receiving the proof of that glorious moment?”
I held my breath for a moment at Elias’s words. He’d called it a “glorious moment,” which surprised me. It meant this wasn’t some favor doled out on a whim—it was something I was entitled to, regardless of anyone’s preferences.
Elias unfolded my jacket from the sofa armrest and draped it over my shoulders.
“Take it. Pin another badge on your uniform and come back looking all sharp in black and white.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
Since Elias feigned ignorance, I just smiled. He’d probably find this situation burdensome enough as it was. Instead of pressing him, I shifted the topic slightly.
“You have the Black Eagle too?”
“I do, but… hmmm. Unlike you, it didn’t mean much to me. I got it just for being Hohenzollern.”
“Show me.”
“I don’t even wear the badge.”
“…”
That sounded just like Elias. I just chuckled, and he snickered along.
Then he patted my shoulder and spoke again.
“Remember what I said before? I’m going to form a knight order just for you.”
“Hm?”
“The Black Eagle isn’t the highest honor the Hohenzollerns can give you, Luca. Soon, it’ll drop to second place.”
Elias leaned in close, enunciating each word. I mulled it over for a second before my jaw dropped. If Leo had been there, Elias would’ve clamped his mouth shut by now. Even though it was explanation enough, Elias elaborated further.
“When you chop off the old head and become king, you have to demote all the previous ones one by one!”
“…”
Not strictly necessary, but sure… History’s full of that sort of thing, good or bad. I smiled and replied.
“I look forward to it.”
“Good. But you can’t just look forward—you’ll have to move alongside me from now on.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“More importantly, Luca.”
“Yeah.”
“Remember where the game left off?”
“…”
“Set it up again. Let’s finish it!”
So that’s why he’d barreled around without caring if the pieces fell. He’s using my memory for weird stuff.
Anyway, I reset the pieces to their prior positions. Sure enough, Elias snagged my phone, and I quickly fell to checkmate against him. Didn’t matter. It wasn’t about winning, and like with poker, I always preferred Elias coming out on top.
“…”
The moment I was in check, Elias blinked rapidly at me, struggling to hold back a grin.
“You knew it was check from the en passant, right? The flow was against you~”
Why not resign earlier?
I shrugged at him and toppled my king sideways. That’s what I’d dragged it out for—to show him this. Sure enough, Elias grinned ear to ear. With a reaction like that, how could I skip it?
“You don’t do this for just anyone, do you?”
“You won it fair and square with your skills.”
“Ah~ Playing chess with Luca is fun, but…”
“Fun, but?”
Elias propped his chin on his hand and muttered.
“You should be my comrade. What’s the point if I only beat you?”
How do you “comrade” in chess? I figured it was his usual nonsense, but his next playful remark revealed his intent.
“There’s someone else I want to check. Every time I win like this, it makes me look forward to what’s ahead.”
And so, until Elias wore himself out last night, we kept playing games his way. As always, I conked out first.
“You look tired.”
Abraham’s hollow voice pierced my eardrum. My mind snapped back to the present.
He spoke to me here just as he would to Nikolaus. With a soundproof spell up, no one else seemed to hear. Empire newspaper reporters were in the room now, snapping photos of the medal ceremony, while the emperor’s chief advisor read the proclamation granting me the Black Eagle.
[Lucas von Anhalt, as a mage of sturdy ally Anhalt of Prussia, has greatly contributed to the peace of our Prussia and the German Empire…]
“Not tired.”
I replied within the soundproof spell.
If I seemed tired, it wasn’t from humoring Elias all night—it was guilt and debt toward him. Abraham, on the other hand, wore a satisfied smile precisely because of it. His golden eyes glaring down from the podium were insufferable.
‘This guy’s the type you grow to despise the more you know him.’
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on Abraham’s obnoxiousness. The chief advisor took a breath, his voice growing more solemn.
[Our imperial house clearly recognizes the disgrace wrongly cast upon Lucas von Anhalt these past ten years, and hereby declares, in the name of the Hohenzollerns, that it was untrue.]
“…”
I locked eyes with Abraham, who gave a faint smile.
An unusually blunt declaration, unlike any medal ceremony I’d heard of. Everything here had passed through Abraham’s hands—to win me over, and to create a tool to check Adrian Ascanien. Unlike before, the Pleroma label that had dogged me was now officially repudiated by the imperial house.
‘Wonder what Adrian Ascanien’s thinking, hearing this now.’
[Thus, we Hohenzollerns, on behalf of the 1.9 million souls of this continent saved by Lucas von Anhalt last February, bestow upon him the Black Eagle medal out of boundless gratitude.]
Abraham’s soundproof spell dropped. His voice boomed heavily.
“Can Lucas von Anhalt swear to serve as a member of the Black Eagle Knight Order and pledge loyalty to the Kingdom of Prussia?”
Abraham’s eyes had never burned so brightly. His irises seemed to swirl with mana—an illusion, maybe. I didn’t want to know Elias’s expression right now. Should’ve linked a core with him too. I answered those eyes.
“I swear.”
I knelt before him. Abraham’s solar brilliance mana brushed my cheek and settled on my shoulder.
“From this moment, Lucas von Anhalt is a member of the Black Eagle Knight Order, and Prussia bestows upon him the Grand Cross of the Order.”
Whatever my feelings, this was a medal from the empire’s foremost power. As a member of the ruling house, my standing now matched Adrian Ascanien’s.
Moments after the sword was sheathed, Abraham’s cool hand touched my uniform. I could see the muscles in his irises shifting with his pupil movement. His gaze wasn’t on my clothes but my eyes—outwardly cold, yet relentlessly reading me beneath. As he pinned the cross-shaped medal on me, he said.
“The empire’s most infamous Pleroma has become its most anticipated mage.”
“I know. I’ve finally arrived where I belong.”
I said it deliberately. Even words that could sound ridiculous didn’t faze Abraham.
“I think so too.”
“…”
“Satisfied?”
The answer to that was predetermined—for Abraham, for me, for my friends.
I smiled and replied.
“Hardly. We’ve got to play to the end.”
* * *
“Ah~”
Narke raised an eyebrow with a laugh, holding his pie and rubbing his forehead.
I’d come straight back to the mansion after the medal. No obligation to handle the remaining Peruer myself, but personally, the theft wasn’t fully resolved. Narke would agree. So no time to linger there. Abraham would scoff at the phrasing, though.
‘And yet here I am, playing around…’
I stifled a sigh at the chessboard before me. Narke laughed as if he hadn’t read my thoughts, lamenting.
“Oh dear… Getting taken by a pawn? That’s no good…”
“Say I got taken by a queen since I got promoted. Why not use Insight?”
“No fun~”
Narke swept up the pieces, sorted them, and reset the board.
Another game? I’d had no time to relax with friends lately, so I suppressed the urge to say so.
“You value fun more than I thought.”
“Hm, take away fun, and what’s the point of living?”
Not a remark I’d expected from Narke. Elias would’ve said it.
“On that note, make some room.”
Elias, who’d been sulkily watching Narke and me play chess, spoke up. I shook my head and stood. Elias’s eyes widened—had he wanted to play with me, not Narke?
“Not the time for that.”
“Then?”
Even as he said it, Elias sat me back down and plopped beside Narke. I ended up staring at the restarted board and said.
“Given any thought to who erased that Orleans’s memories?”
“His family did it. That Peruer you described—his Orleans ancestor knew about the artifact. The whole house is in on it.”
I’d briefly explained what I’d learned from Charles d’Orleans to Elias and the others yesterday. Elias moved a piece and said.
“The French royals are politically shaky right now. Napoleon and Bourbon supporters are still around, especially in Europe’s strongest bourgeois nation.”
The whole house knowing about the artifact… Good theory.
But that was secondary. What I wanted to know was who developed memory-erasure tech. And where the holy relic went. Charles d’Orleans hadn’t been hit with Pleroma memory wipes, nor relic ones.
‘If they stole the relic, they should’ve wiped that too.’
I hadn’t asked about the relic directly? He’d answered fluidly, and Narke—who was handling the relic theft—had watched his eyes during the Q&A but hadn’t flagged him as suspicious. He was just sitting there now like someone without clues.
“Wow~ Spot on. Not him. Like you guessed, the Orleans house or some group had tech to neutralize security spells… and used the same for both thefts.”
“…”
“Sorry. Got curious why you asked out of the blue, so I peeked a bit.”
“No big deal. Anyway, like you said, Charles d’Orleans didn’t act alone. Someone’s backing him as frontman…”
“Surprising there’s no Pleroma behind it for once. Gotta be those Orleans guys 100%, right? That tech’s theirs!”
“Something bugs me.”
“Like what?”
“…Never mind. Good idea anyway.”
I decisively cleared the board this time and fetched stationery.
“Need to write to Marian Baum now.”
And head to Bavaria once the reply comes.
“What? Now?”
My info on Archduke Maria Osterreichesste was incomplete.
Let’s rethink from the start. In reality, Maria dies in 1888. A club that “advanced mere plans by a few years” suggests its founding and her death are close.
‘Reality’s Maria died shortly after founding the Hermetische Gesellschaft.’
I shrugged on my jacket and double-checked.
“Guys. Know when the Hermetische Gesellschaft was founded?”
“Ten years ago. So prestigious they say it’s hard for newbies like us to get in.”
Elias snarked. Narke, who’d been chin-propped and smiling, shook his head.
“They’re wary of Pleroma. After chatting with us so long, they suspected we’re Pleroma mages. Same reason they think we’re spies from other clubs. Our mana reserves were too high, probably.”
I turned slowly at that.
“Pleroma. They’re targeting the club?”
“Yeah, there’ve been attempts to infiltrate.”
“It’s a relic-trading club.”
“Might score good stuff. Or find resurrection rites in their elite gatherings… Their ‘resurrection’ isn’t proper magecraft—it’s sorcery, right? Haha.”
“So, Narke. Think occult fantasies like that are feasible?”
“Tough, but not impossible. Magic’s logos; if occult stumbles into logos, sure. But they haven’t pulled off anything yet~?”
“Yeah, if they’d innovated even one formula, they wouldn’t be a secret club. One usable spell means no work till death—wouldn’t leave it for love of occult alone.”
Elias nodded, and Narke gave an ambiguous smile.
“But astral projection? Doubt they even succeeded there, haha.”
“Ehhh?! No way!”
As I’d thought before, Maria’s tech wasn’t in use at the Hermetische Gesellschaft. I nodded and jotted the letter to Marian Baum.
“You guys think they know nothing. Yet Pleroma keeps sniffing around. Why try infiltrating?”
For one relic?
Something about that question stirred countless ideas in my head.
Elias answered firmly.
“They poke everywhere. Pleroma’s unrelated to this case.”
Elias wasn’t speaking carelessly. He knew I’d slapped every decryption method onto a simple anagram. He was countering my tendency to overcomplicate.
“Thanks for the input.”
Light thinking’s important too. I finished gearing up to leave, then returned to the room. A messenger dove sat at the open window. As I tied the letter, my hand brushed its leg, and the mana in the pigeon’s body faded.
I opened the unfamiliar shop-logoed envelope and muttered.
“Reply’s here. Time to go.”
* * *
“Thought this was private.”
“It is.”
I pointed to my thin navy jacket. Marian Baum just stared indifferently.
“Apart from casual clothes, it’s all theft-related. Didn’t think you’d bring it up, but France’s jewel heist—wasn’t just ordinary theft?”
‘Just ordinary theft.’ That’s how the public, clueless on France’s motives, saw it.
Not downplaying the gravity. War fears hung in the air here. Tension etched every face in the cafe.
France claimed no need to steal—they had money, resources—and especially not historic jewels from another crown.
In Austria, rumors spread that France sneaking into their palace meant intent to violate sovereignty—testing if they could invade and colonize. How they’d colonize a powerhouse aside, it was reaction enough for Austria.
Back to point: Austria-Hungary investigators didn’t even know the Peruer was an artifact.
Our agency probably didn’t either, except maybe Abraham—and even that wasn’t certain. To avoid fallout, we hadn’t shared it contained deployable tech.
‘Someone might’ve figured it anyway.’
No need to fan flames. I replied.
“No reason for plain theft. Anyway… Didn’t I mention in the letter I wanted help with my current case?”
Marian Baum ignored the follow-up, answering.
“Pentaron’s fallout’s barely clearing, and you’re still swamped. Come home sometime.”
“The catacombs are my home now.”
“Come before you’re kicked out.”
“I will…”
“So, you asked if we know magic that erases memories on divine power entry.”
Marian Baum narrowed his eyes. My latest question.
“Yes. Know details?”
“We made it. Specifically, it triggers when mental manipulation divine-power magic enters the body. If it reacted to all divine power, purification or covenant spells would’ve wiped memories too. But you said ‘divine power,’ not mental manipulation, right?”
“Unclear, but not worth splitting hairs. Same mechanism anyway. Any leak paths?”
“…”
Marian Baum stared, then lowered his voice.
“That Peruer you mentioned? The one France’s royals stole?”
“Yes.”
The smile faded from his face. Outsiders using catacombs formulas? Absurd. He pulled a blue-inked fountain pen and scribbled on a napkin.
“For your sake, I’ll trust you. That French thief had this spell?”
“Yes.”
Marian Baum’s face hardened.
“No way it leaked. Even catacombs folk need clearance. Unless a top brass betrays us again…”
“That’s what I’m checking. Teacher Baum, investigate catacombs leadership with trusted allies. I’ll contact outsiders with case info.”
I read the formula. Abstract. Magecraft uses math models—this defied disassembly, graphing, familiar forms. Looked like scribbles. Amid his souring expression, Marian Baum explained kindly.
“Not ignorance of canon. New magic needs odd shapes.”
“Good. Borrowed external scholars or occult magecraft help creating it?”
“No occult help. Pleroma steal it? We didn’t even share files when they visited our parish.”
So neither Pleroma nor catacombs gave Orleans this tech… Where’d the house or backers get it?
I shook my head to reassure him.
“Too early for leak assumption. Could be independent dev. Interrogation points away from Pleroma too.”
“Not Pleroma? Who else steals with tech like this?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Not simple jewel theft like they think—it’s ‘tech’ theft amid ascent prep. They eye unique ability replication, beyond magecraft, and succeeded.
Feeling Marian Baum’s confused gaze, I said.
“Better Pleroma has it than others.”
Why?
Shrimp backs crack in whale fights.
I swallowed it, checked my watch. Time to chase clues validating my hunch.
* * *
“Without an appointment, I can’t let you in. I told you yesterday.”
A new human butler smiled ambiguously at me. Before I could speak, he slammed the door. Through the bars, he glanced between Leo and me.
“…Terribly sorry, Your Highness Crown Prince and party, but come again and we won’t entertain you.”
Second day trying to see Emmanuel Wittelsbach. And naturally, rejected twice.