Chapter 315
Chapter 315
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 315
Chapter Title: Defying the Seniors
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The sound of the body hitting the floor was accompanied by the revolver landing in my hand.
Mana flowed from the cartridge—whether it was an artifact or from the cylinder itself. I stared at the lump of metal that had just killed a person, then slowly lifted my head to look at the one who had handed it to me. The 98th Batch mages watched to see what I would do.
"Three rounds left. Why don't you give it a try? You need practice piercing vitriol too."
Mecklenburg's words buzzed in my ears and faded away.
"......"
Not content with having killed a person, now they wanted me to use the corpse for target practice.
They had no intention of saving anyone. Neither the government nor the 98th Batch. What had happened to everyone they'd handled so far? They'd only dealt with Class 4 and below, so maybe they hadn't killed them.
"It's best to practice when you have the opportunity. When the first shot scatters the vitriol, you need to follow up with two more in quick succession. Your basic military training from the 3rd Education Academy was probably single-action, but that won't work here where vitriol reforms in seconds. Fortunately, as new-types, you're faster than anyone."
No one answered, and silence fell. Mecklenburg's amber eyes, Elias beside him, the 98th Batch watching our reactions. The burst vitriol and dark red blood.... The blood had flowed up to the toes of my boots. And yet, we hadn't said a word until then. We had so much to say that we couldn't utter even one.
"Can't you hear me?"
"......"
I looked once more at the revolver in my hand—not anyone else's, mine. I now recalled that some in the 98th Batch were the same age as Adrian Ascanien. Before that, I'd been thinking about the dead rampager and why they'd taken a full ten minutes to arrive so leisurely. Now, I understood what the hospital nurse had meant by "make it quiet."
The 98th Batch was too busy watching their faint-hearted juniors. They must be thrilled to finally enforce discipline legally. The dead meant nothing to them.
"We'll end it here for today. I must have asked too much of a mage who's only just started working."
Mecklenburg's voice rang out clearly.
This wasn't just their problem. Showing murder so casually to juniors they'd just met meant this was a shortcut the government turned a blind eye to, even if not officially endorsed. They didn't see it as murder—they truly believed it was the "good method" they claimed.
I met Mecklenburg's eyes, feeling the blood smell calm my breathing while my mana reacted to it at the same time.
"How did it feel?"
Mecklenburg, who had been pulling out a signal device, looked around in disbelief before pointing at himself.
"You're asking for *my* impressions right now?"
"Yes. I'm asking you, Excellency Albert Mecklenburg."
"Everyone survived safely, so I'm satisfied. If I may offer some patient advice for your first time: asking questions first without being given the chance might not sit well with the others."
He glanced at me and my friends, then smiled.
"Your expressions show quite the aversion, but it seems I'll need to help our dear 101st Batch juniors adopt the most economical and rational method soon."
Got it.
Soon, he'd summon us under the pretext of enforcing discipline. If we didn't "accept his help" and improve efficiency, he'd deem it insubordination. So there was no reason for me to shoot the corpse in the first place. Believing we'd avoid their wrath by following their unreasonable orders was the naive fantasy of someone who'd never experienced military discipline. No matter what the 101st Batch did, we'd suffer under the 98th. To improve things, we'd either wait for the 102nd Batch or endure absolute obedience until they lost interest or acknowledged us.
Mecklenburg extended his hand politely, pointing at me as he asked.
"So, now I'd like to hear your impressions."
"You're kind to ask for my opinion too."
My friends across from me stared with terrified eyes. Now I could see it. I turned away from them and answered.
"It was the most shortsighted behavior I've ever seen or heard of in my life."
The air turned ice-cold. I slowly scanned the faces of the 98th Batch—everyone except Mecklenburg—hardening one by one. I etched each expression into my memory, then spoke.
"Hand it over."
* * *
"...Forget the 98th Batch—I haven't even met the 100th Batch seniors, never been to Special Operations Command, and I don't even know how the special whatever operates."
Elias's words from earlier echoed in my mind. The civil servant leading us had the expression of someone enduring us because we were ruling family scions.
Leo, walking ahead, turned back to me briefly before facing forward again. His face was pale. Even seeing his tightly pressed lips and tense eyes, I couldn't miss that it was anger.
I was struggling to think straight too, but I had to suppress my emotions since there was something I needed to know now.
"When do we get issued firearms?"
"......"
My abrupt question drew surprised looks from my friends. They'd wonder why we'd need old-type weapons, and I wasn't certain we'd get them either.
First, what did I need to know?
As Albert Mecklenburg said, I needed to confirm if "everyone" really did it this way.
The civil servant glanced back curiously, as if wondering when I'd heard, then answered.
"Fill out a request form, and you'll get them right away."
"Do many people use them?"
"I've heard some carry them for protection against high-risk rampagers. You could die in their hands otherwise."
"For protection. So only in unavoidable situations?"
"By regulation, of course."
"......"
By regulation. The word "regulation" sounded ridiculous.
"Is there a procedure to check proper use?"
"No."
The civil servant answered curtly, then continued in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Use your judgment."
Use your judgment to kill.
Loud and clear. As expected, the state was complicit.
"How many cartridges per person at a time?"
"As far as I know, 30 rounds per person per month."
Should I praise them for the limit? Even the obvious felt like a blessing now. He'd said three shots earlier, so one person's allotment handles ten reports. Minimum five per team means 50 reports. That's just for three-shot bursts, so halve it safely to 25—enough to kill-process most monthly reports per team. The civil servant, now annoyed with me too, cut off further questions.
"Even if you ask me more, I only handle report assignments, so I don't know."
"Yes, of course."
I answered soullessly and looked toward the Victory Monument. It wasn't just the 98th Batch's issue, but they would definitely kill people soon. Even if we rewound time to avoid meeting them entirely, they'd commit murder in a five-story general store and summon us eventually. Running solved nothing.
I pulled Leo back and cast a sound barrier. But before I could speak, he opened his mouth first.
"Right after the first shot, I'll do it."
"......"
I had no idea what he meant by handling it in this situation. I neither affirmed nor denied, just kept walking forward.
Leo's thinking matched mine. We'd always thought we were polar opposites, but moments like this reminded me why we were friends. Ultimately, we saw the same end goal.
Instead of agreeing, I shifted the subject slightly.
"Our assignment's changed, and now I'm worried we'll end up in the brig like this."
"Hmm, your mindset's a bit like a grunt's."
"......"
He meant how could a ruling family worry about that in peacetime. At Leo's—utterly innocent—royal assholery, I was speechless, but it also let me finalize my guess on the risks of our plan. After mulling my words, Leo added briefly.
"Even if we do, I won't change my choice. You wouldn't either, right?"
Yeah. No matter where we hid, the result would be the same, so neither would I.
Leo, facing the 98th Batch, eyed the revolver holster on Mecklenburg's belt. They acted the same as before, said the same things. Who knew what mindset they were in? And so we arrived at the five-story general store again.
"...It's not anything major, but since suppressing the rampager took fifteen minutes, I called you to share some advice."
[Grooo.... Uuuu....]
The mana lamp light stabbed unpleasantly at my eyes. The rampager wandering far off made hard-to-hear noises, oblivious to its fate. None of us responded, and Leo and I exchanged glances. Mecklenburg looked around at us and said.
"Recommended time, good. But sticking to it honestly would kill us. No one's taught you a good method yet, it seems. We'll show you how it's done...."
Albert Mecklenburg drew the revolver from its holster. Time seemed to slow. Leo's mana was utterly still, as if he had no intention of moving, but as he'd said, he'd execute the plan right after the first gunshot.
"......"
"Watch closely."
Yes. I'd confirmed Leo's plan matched mine. But on this one thing, we differed.
I had no intention of leaving this to Leo.
Boom—! Crash—!
By the time I blinked, the lead shot had shattered the barrier I'd cast in front of the rampager, and the revolver rolled on the floor just before the next trigger pull. Leo's eyes widened at losing first move, then twisted.
I snatched the revolver and yelled to my friends.
"All wands up!"
* * *
Our relentless magical barrage gave the 98th Batch no chance to capture it, so they gave up on firearms. Our two teams subdued the rampager with magic alone and successfully sent it to the hospital.
Now it was time for the prescribed procedure.
"Your hips are dropping?"
"......"
At the 98th Batch vice-leader's words, I took a deep breath and corrected my posture.
Discipline is everywhere.
At this point, I almost felt bad for real discipline—maybe call it shit discipline instead. If that sounded the same, oh well. From gifted academies kids attended, to batch-based special high schools, liberal arts clubs, universities, military, some jobs.... At least everywhere I'd been had some form of it, however mild.
And 19th-century Prussia was shit discipline perfected. The 98th Batch ahead of me insisted how progressive and rational it was not to beat us but make us "exercise." Sure, what I was doing barely qualified as corporal punishment by this era's standards, so they could hardly call it discipline enforcement. But doing this to fellow mages on the same level, just different batches? Roots run deep.
"Stop!"
The 98th vice-leader shouted. Albert Mecklenburg surprisingly sat out the punishment, instead laying out a spot and watching us from there. My friends glanced around and stood. I expected what the 98th would say next but stood with them anyway. Sometimes, you just eat shit and obey.
The vice-leader tilted his head, face humorless.
"I don't know what makes Ascanien think he can stand."
*'Oh, right. If I don't, that'll be the next issue.'*
Breathing was a problem, not breathing was a problem. I swallowed a sneer and placed my hands on the ground again.
"The rest of you, face forward."
The other six turned to face me. I felt sweat beading on my chin and thought: How could I leave this to Leo? It was obvious how we'd be reamed. If he'd taken Mecklenburg's revolver instead, he'd be in my spot now.
Soon after, Mecklenburg had me stand. With a faintly regretful look, he said.
"If today's events reach Command, you know what'll happen. Let's end it here. Do you get how dangerous that was now?"
"Yes."
"And when we deploy together in the future, you'll refuse the 98th Batch's methods like today?"
"Yes."
"......"
Of course I'd refuse murder. Even if they drilled me daily, I'd never retract that answer. It wasn't something to even pretend otherwise.
The other mages behind scowled fiercely. Mecklenburg shook his head worriedly, and after my friends returned to school, I did thirty more minutes alone.
Once dismissed, I dusted off, gave a curt nod, and left the Imperial Mage Association's 98th Batch training ground.
*'Funny. "You know what'll happen if Command finds out?"'*
Nothing.
They couldn't report it anyway. They were furious we'd seized field control from the 101st Batch. Go ahead and snitch about us hijacking the scene—then explain dawdling ten minutes, arriving leisurely, and killing the rampager with "protection-only" firearms the moment there was no threat. Sure, go report that.
Dragging "use your judgment" matters officially isn't easy, and while leadership overlooks killings, they're complicit.... But they couldn't discipline us—non-commoners, with foreigners on the team—and openly side with the 98th. Just as Leo said.
The reason the 98th "tempered our spirits humanely via exercise instead of beating" was precisely because we were ruling family like them.
*'Of course, I don't plan to keep taking it.'*
We'd blocked one murder, but I had two problems now. First, they'd keep killing rampagers. Second, without changing the power structure, they'd force it on the 101st Batch too.
So this was just the beginning.
I snapped my fingers, reciting coordinates for the school warp point. As darkness fell, a surprised voice rang out.
"Whoa~"
I'd planned to flop onto the warp point if I collapsed, but someone kindly grabbed my arm. Elias. Eschet friends gathered at the school warp point.
I led them to the dorm and beelined for bed. Soon, knocking sounded. Multiple voices, but only Leo entered—probably blocking the rest.
"You okay?"
"Of course."
I pointed at my core, gesturing *why ask when you've felt it all day?* Leo, exhausted from the ordeal, smiled faintly and said clearly.
"I said I'd do it, Lucas."
"......"
Knew that was coming from the start. Leo seemed to be calming himself, speaking only after a while.
"It's not that you're wrong. I concluded taking the gun was the only way to stop immediate murder too. If I'd taken it instead...."
Telling the truth about stealing his thunder would burden him. I pondered a light response, but Leo saw through me. With his signature cool smile, he said.
"Fine, if you're playing it that way, I'll say it: You okay going through this? I can endure it. They can't go too hard because of my status."
"I can endure it too, no? If it were Luise or Heike, it'd be worse."
"......"
Leo was speechless. Staring at the floor, he sat silently and cast healing magic on my limbs.
"Ah, refreshing."
At my admiration, Leo eyed me like *what's with this guy?* Déjà vu hit. Before I could ask, an unexpected line came.
"Thanks."
"......"
"But you don't need to make that many enemies. Especially you."
"Is that so? Thanks."
It felt loaded, so I kept it short, not dredging his past. New-type bodies were great. I recovered fast, jumped up, flipped my desk, grabbed a notebook and pen, and sat before Leo again.
"No need to make enemies that bad, but we'll turn the 98th against us anyway. Even if we'd stood by without taking the revolver, we couldn't have gotten along. Think about what Mecklenburg said right before rewinding—answer's there."
"...Yeah."
"Discard relationships we can't choose. Turn one to enemy without turning all—easy."
Meaning the whole Imperial Mage Association and the Special Operations Command we'd join. Still worried, but a faint smile crossed Leo's face.
"...Who knows. Beyond not antagonizing, we might make them ours."
"......"
He was saying we'd crush the 98th ourselves. Scheming treason with this FM stickler? My lips curled unwittingly.
Right, what was I thinking before the guy who enthroned a new emperor?
I stood and said.
"Now the issue's how to seriously recruit the whole. Time to bring in Elias and Narke."