Chapter 320
Chapter 320
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 320
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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“We played nine games, and you won all nine? The 98th batch?”
“How? Even Bitzleben, who won eight out of nine, is impressive... I can understand that since he’s always been good at strategy. But I’ve never heard anything about that guy from the 98th batch pulling off something like this.”
“Me neither.”
The 98th batch vice-captain held his breath as he listened to the conversation between the 91st batch captains on the other side of the wall. It had been four hours since the game ended. Right now, he was in the middle of fetching the 101st batch’s dispatch records on Albert’s orders.
The main players in this game numbered twenty-nine. The captains and a few vice-captains from the 91st batch A Team through the 98th batch C Team were at the Ministry of Defense and couldn’t participate.
It wasn’t a tournament format; it was a game where you could challenge as many sets as you wanted within nine sets, regardless of wins or losses. So even participating in all nine games was rare. Most people gave up completely after losing just one or two.
And... ironically, the one who achieved nine wins and zero losses in this game was none other than him—himself, Ascanien. Even that Bitzleben from the 91st batch had gone eight wins and one loss. Since the wizards who made it all the way to the Imperial Magic Alliance were the best in the country—excluding elite wizards like Nikolaus Ernst from the Kingdom of Bavaria—they usually traded a win or two when competing against each other. That was possible precisely because it wasn’t a tournament. Going undefeated in matches between the absolute best was rare.
“Impressive. The 98th batch pulled off nine straight wins—something even Bitzleben and Hanover couldn’t do...”
“Wasn’t the 98th batch the one that got overshadowed by Excellency Adrian Ascanien?”
“Yeah. The only juniors I remember from that batch are Albert and Nepomuk, but this Erich guy seems worth keeping an eye on too.”
‘...Keep an eye on what? Please don’t even look my way...’
Who exactly had ended up with that undefeated title now?
Just thinking about it made him want to go out there and bang his head against the wall. How was he supposed to explain that it was all fake, and the real mastermind was Lucas Ascanien? All he could do right now was slip away from this spot as quickly and discreetly as possible.
“I kinda want to see what the top guy looks like...”
With that from the 91st batch C Team captain, the 98th batch vice-captain bolted for the communal training grounds.
“...Of the missing personnel, thirty-five managed to escape as a group and are now contributing to the creation of strategic materials on the Grand Pleroma at the Imperial Magic Alliance.”
Panting as he arrived, he found Albert looking up from his newspaper, with the 101st batch standing at attention. Albert took the records from the 98th batch vice-captain and continued reading where he’d left off.
“Meanwhile, the status of the over one hundred wizards who haven’t returned remains unknown inside the Pleroma. The thirty-five who made it back strongly assert that the Pleroma will no longer maintain its previous reserved attitude...”
Albert folded the newspaper and walked over to the 101st batch. He met each of their eyes and asked quietly,
“As you’ve heard, everything surrounding us is hurtling toward the worst possible outcome even now. You might not feel it since you’re peacefully suppressing berserkers, but we no longer have the luxury of time.”
“......”
The 101st batch had returned after handling a report that came in right after the game. Albert had only just gotten back from the Ministry of Defense himself, and in the meantime, they’d caught another one rebelling against the use of firearms.
In the meantime, the 98th batch vice-captain stared blankly at Ascanien. An expression he hadn’t noticed before now caught his eye. He knew enough not to bow his head or anything—it would be rude—so he was staring straight ahead, but there wasn’t a trace of fear in those eyes. Even if the punishment was light, when seniors... no, predecessors came down this hard, anyone would feel intimidated. That new human from the Junker family, Ulrike or whatever her name was, actually seemed somewhat scared. Yes, that was the normal reaction. But Ascanien looked like he was enjoying the situation, or perhaps even hoping the 98th batch would drill him harder. The 98th batch vice-captain, who’d lived the same age as his brother, could guess the motivation behind that mindset, which wasn’t something achieved with an ordinary head.
Right now, he was holding his breath until a good card came up. Or maybe a good card had already appeared, and he was just observing the situation out of pure curiosity. Adrian Ascanien was the same type. No one would know that about him unless they’d studied alongside him for over a decade like we had. We knew. That this Ascanien and Adrian Ascanien weren’t all that different.
They even looked strikingly similar, except this one had a far colder, more indifferent face. Not that he was trying to play nice, but it was the kind of face that could trigger trauma.
“Erich.”
The 98th batch vice-captain snapped to attention at Albert Mecklenburg’s call. He could feel the mana of a soundproofing spell around them.
“I heard as soon as you got back. They say you took first place in this strategy game.”
“......”
The 98th batch vice-captain bit his parched lips lightly. What should he say? That it wasn’t really me...? The rankings were under his name, sure, but...
Albert Mecklenburg, watching him, shook his head with a smile.
“Congratulations. Truly remarkable results. But who was the sub-player again?”
“......”
Hearing that, the 98th batch vice-captain felt all the tension drain from his body. He knew it now too. That the nine wins and zero losses weren’t his achievement as the main player. Amid a whirlwind of emotions, he answered in a hoarse whisper.
“Lucas Ascanien.”
“I see.”
Albert Mecklenburg smiled and patted his shoulder.
“You seem a bit out of it today. Can you handle the rest?”
“Ah... Yeah. Of course.”
That’s how it had always been. Though today wasn’t quite the usual “always.” The 98th batch vice-captain swallowed those words and addressed the 101st batch.
“Everyone except Ascanien, dismissed.”
The six from the 101st batch saluted and left.
Do you know what you did wrong...? Are you going to improve for sure? He should reflect Albert’s earlier scolding, but the words wouldn’t come. Ascanien was standing straight as ordered from the start, but he looked at the silent 98th batch vice-captain with clear puzzlement. The gaze said, If you have something to say, just say it already. The vice-captain had so much to say himself that he couldn’t bring himself to speak. After a long pause, all he managed was,
“How did you do it today?”
“......”
There were tons of things he needed to ask. This question should have been precise: “How did you beat all the seniors in the strategy game about four hours ago and go nine wins zero losses?” Otherwise, how was he supposed to answer about handling the dispatch report or reflecting Mecklenburg’s lecture?
But even to the vague question, Ascanien seemed to read his mind and slowly opened his mouth.
“You mean the game?”
“...Yeah.”
“Clausewitz said: The plausibility of the real world replaces the boundlessness of the concept of war.”
“......”
The 98th batch vice-captain flinched first. He’d just ribbed him earlier about studying Clausewitz’s On War, and now he drops the name? By now, it was easy to think Ascanien knew Clausewitz, not to mention various theories of war and military science, better than he did as a 98th batcher. Ascanien continued calmly.
“Excellency von Reichenau, who knows Clausewitz’s theories well, must have already understood not only the meaning of those words but also what I’m trying to say.”
“Y-Yeah...”
“In the extremely constrained environment and resources of a game—that is, within strict plausibility—non-conforming actions are far more limited than in reality. This artificially created small world is no different from an academic model, and when facing an academic model, the best approach is to think theoretically. So I approached it using some military knowledge and economic logic.”
“......”
“Should I explain more?”
“No.... No.”
He got it. After breaking down “The plausibility of the real world replaces the boundlessness of the concept of war” twice, and now offering more? He didn’t know how far this guy thought the man in front of him was an idiot, but even after spelling it out like this, assuming he still wouldn’t get it felt a bit much to the 98th batch vice-captain.
“I had no intention of offending you, Excellency. I was just probing the appropriate line.”
“......”
Ascanien, as if he’d been through this many times and could read minds, answered perfectly. That familiarity only made the 98th batch vice-captain more embarrassed, so he nodded for now.
But even understanding didn’t make it easy to accept how he’d won the game. Anyone could study that stuff. War, strategy, military science—they’d crammed it insanely at the First Education Academy. And he could grasp why economics was mentioned too. Economic thinking—the basic premise that individuals are rational beings who anticipate benefits and costs before deciding—is clearly required to predict human behavior in a model. But studying it didn’t mean everyone took first place.
He couldn’t voice that question again. He didn’t want to. But Ascanien kept staring ahead and spoke.
“To continue with the plausibility logic I mentioned earlier, I could keep winning consecutively precisely because it was just a game. As you know, Excellency, mathematics offers no firm foundation in the calculus of the art of war; from the start, war involves gambles of possibility, probability, luck, and misfortune that thread through every warp and weft of war... War is closest to gambling in every realm of human action.”
Ascanien tilted his head slightly, seeking agreement. Another Clausewitz quote. The intent was clear enough, but more intuitively: I won because it was a game; it wouldn’t have gone like this in real combat—a humble remark.
But the 98th batch vice-captain thought differently. Ascanien hadn’t achieved this merely through knowledge, contrary to his words.
The higher one rises to supreme command, the more important spirit, intellect, and insight become in a commander’s activity, while boldness—an attribute of emotion—is pushed aside accordingly; thus, boldness in itself becomes worthy of respect. Boldness guided by superior spirit does not crash into the essence of problems or clumsily violate the laws of plausibility; it is a lightning-quick, genius-level judgment when making choices—a trait that powerfully aids high-level calculations performed almost unconsciously. The more boldness inspires spirit and insight, the farther they fly together, broadening vision and sharpening results. ...Therefore, we cannot conceive of a great commander without boldness.
If he was quoting Clausewitz to downplay his achievements, then he deserved this passage in return. To the 98th batch vice-captain, Ascanien was the commander and strategist Clausewitz described. Otherwise, he couldn’t accept how he and his peers and seniors had been overwhelmed throughout the game. The more Ascanien showed humility, the more pathetic he felt for screwing up all nine games.
“Do you have more to say?”
“......”
Something more important mattered.
If this Ascanien was truly like his brother, he wouldn’t stop at proving his ability here. Never. The 98th batch vice-captain mumbled,
“You can go. Before that.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“...Cal.”
He couldn’t get the words out, like a stone was stuck in his throat. After waiting a while, Ascanien smiled as if wondering what was up, leaning forward slightly.
“Cal...? What are you trying to say...”
“...Call me senior.”
“Ah.”
“...When we’re alone. We’re, both vice-captains and all.... You know.”
Ascanien stood frozen, mouth agape, eyes widening slightly. The vice-captain realized how blatantly obvious the caveat “when we’re alone” was to anyone, wishing he could bite his tongue. Ascanien suppressed a laugh and straightened his expression.
“Yes, I will.”
Ascanien clicked his heels, saluted, and vanished. Meanwhile, the 98th batch vice-captain just stared blankly at his retreating back as he walked out instead of warping.
He felt defeated.
Yet it was comfortable. He knew what kind of comfort it was. The same kind of survival strategy he’d already offered to the other Ascanien.
* * *
“You got off a bit lighter today?”
At Elias’s mutter, Ulrike replied energetically.
“That Reichenau senior seemed kinda spaced out. They didn’t even make us do push-ups, so yeah.”
“Must be thrilled about taking first in training.”
Haike added curtly. Thrilled enough not to punish us...? I had to hold back a laugh at my friends’ exaggeration.
Thanks to that, Ulrike still had energy left like a proper high schooler. She dashed to her room to toss her bag, then bounded back to the central hall in the corridor. It was the barracks for the “Prussian” forces, so I hadn’t expected great facilities, but whether because the post-magic era was far wealthier financially or because wizard privileges were strongly enforced, the barracks surprisingly resembled a noble mansion. No adjustment issues at all. The layout even allowed hanging out with friends like this.
I flopped onto the couch in the hall. After taking off my hat and messing up the hair I’d slicked back boringly, Cherlingen, who’d been staring at me, said quietly,
“Lucas.”
“Yeah?”
With a faint smile, he asked,
“You took first place this time, right?”
“Huh? What’re you talking about.”
Ulrike’s immediate question was followed by Leo’s gaze locking on. Narke had been smiling from the start, probably knowing I’d essentially taken first. Cherlingen glanced at Leo like that, then stood.
“Lucas. Wanna come with me for a sec?”
No reason to refuse. Once we were out of sight of the friends, Cherlingen burst out laughing dramatically.
“Ha, this is fun.”
“What is.”
“Dunno, everything.”
Cherlingen, going down the stairs first, turned and offered his hand. I stared at it, then asked his intention.
“Escort?”
“Something like that.”
Ridiculous.... He should’ve been born in the 19th century, where only old humans existed. Not even the 21st—just straight 19th century. I grabbed his hand and twisted it around instead. We were both laughing, so it wasn’t negative.
We reached the garden behind the barracks. Cherlingen snapped his fingers, and a trolley with a tea set flew from the open mansion back gate, landing beside the table.
“...What did you just do? I can’t believe my eyes.”
“Let’s have tea here.”
“You’ll get in trouble for bringing stuff like this from school. This is new.”
“There’s too many people there. Ah, some spilled already.”
Cherlingen wiped the water from the teapot and prepared tea, handing it to me. What followed wasn’t about the game or anything—just normal talk. About the missing professor wizards, trends in Class 3 berserkers... Once I realized it wasn’t actually normal, I shifted the topic slightly.
“I need to get like ten more uniform sets.”
“They keep punishing only you? Getting called out alone a lot?”
“Yeah, that’s why. Might not get called anymore from now on, though...”
At that, a smile spread across Cherlingen’s face. He knew it was about the game. I finished with a grin.
“For the next few days, anyway. Gotta change five times a day to stay comfy.”
“Hmm, but you never seemed unclean. You like things super tidy, huh.”
“Cleaner the better.”
Truth is, I’d been spending time like this with Cherlingen a lot lately. Might as well focus on relationships with classmates as Lucas Ascanien. It felt like some kind of contrast.
Cherlingen gazed at the black night sky and said calmly,
“I wish it could always be as peaceful as today. Austria’s leadership is in an uproar over this, making ethnic minority infighting worse. The Austrians, dissatisfied, are cracking down on minorities again... cracking down...”
“......”
I couldn’t help but clutch my head at that.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing...”
Considering who shot the Austrian crown prince in my old world and from which country and ethnicity, how could I not react? Cherlingen sipped his tea and continued.
“That’s why there’s analysis that Pleroma might reach into Austria this time. Leo probably got the same intel.”
“...Total mess.”
“Yeah. So I kinda get why Excellency Mecklenburg keeps stressing efficiency.”
I nodded at his words.
“Even so... I think you’re right, Lucas. Using firearms appropriately against enemies is fine, but not directing them at civilians—especially the people we’re supposed to rescue.”
Of course.
That’s why you’re friends with Leo and Elias. Not the most adventurous types to hit the novel’s forefront, but they share certain traits with Cherlingen. Proving my guess, he continued on the topic.
“Hope fewer people go berserk tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Divine power grants nationwide keep rising, but no sign of berserkers decreasing.”
“Haha, last year around now, it wasn’t like this. Berserkers didn’t even exist back then? By now, I’d have finished prepping for tomorrow’s classes, wrapped up assignments... dragged Leo away from the classmates clinging to him for group training at the personal grounds. Drinking the booze Elias brings while chatting about what we wanna do next. I remember that.”
Cherlingen looked at the sky, then grinned at me. I grinned back and said,
“We gotta stop it before today becomes a memory.”
“Good resolve. But sometimes letting things flow is right.”
I just looked up at his face. Cherlingen scanned the direction of the other batches’ barracks and continued.
“Trying to change what can’t be changed just rots you. To not end before the world does, don’t shoulder too much alone. It’s not your fault anyway.”
Wise words. What I’d wanted to say to someone, and what someone had already said to me before. Before I could reply, Cherlingen looked at me and asked,
“So, now that you beat Erich von Reichenau, next up is Albert Mecklenburg?”
“Beat? Come on.”
I said that, but I smiled.
Erich von Reichenau, 98th batch A Team vice-captain, was on my side now. In some sense. Cherlingen saw it that way too.
“The 91st batch probably doesn’t have the best image of me.”
“I know. They’ve been working at the palace with Ascanien since he was a teen, right?”
Cherlingen laughed and added,
“Adrian Ascanien, I mean.”
“Yeah. They treated thirteen-year-old Adrian Ascanien like a senior, and while he moved into the imperial government, most stayed in palace wizard roles for a decade. Some went into the Prussian army full-time, others into various governments...”
Cherlingen nodded, filling in,
“But none succeeded like Adrian Ascanien.”
“...Direct as ever. Anyway, they’re loyal to Adrian Ascanien already, but I can’t be sure they’ll extend the same to me, his little brother. Especially if some pretended loyalty outwardly but resented him inwardly. Still, not harder than the 98th batch.”
“Time to win over the 91st batch, huh.”
I replied to Cherlingen’s succinct remark with a smile.
And the next morning.
“......”
From the moment I entered the conference room, everyone from the 91st to 98th batches stared at me. Confused expressions followed. I saw them casting soundproof spells and whispering among themselves.
‘...Rumors spread faster than expected.’
The 98th batch vice-captain didn’t seem the type to act dishonestly, despite his actions. I could see him sitting there with his head bowed, looking like he was on pins and needles. Ignoring the stares, I sat down.
Thus, today’s meeting—announcement—ended quickly like yesterday, wrapping up with the same words.
“Today as well, only the representatives from each batch and team will remain.”
Representatives meant captains. I stood. The moment Elias poked my back signaling to get out quick, the 91st batch representative wizard stood and beckoned me.
“Ah, 101st batch Vice-Captain Lucas Ascanien stays too.”