Chapter 329
Chapter 329
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 329
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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The sensation of my lungs swelling to their limit was always the worst. I couldn't even exhale. Reflexively, I covered my ears. It was no use. The ragged sound of my own breathing sounded like someone else's screams.
When deprived of control over one's body, humans seem to suffer from some kind of impulse. Now that I'd lost voluntary control of my breathing, I couldn't tell if what I felt was that impulse or fear. Maybe it was the same thing—since my freedom had been taken, the solution ended up being to eliminate me. Half the path to unconsciousness was drowsiness, and half was pain. Slowly, I bent forward. There was no floor. I couldn't tell if I was falling or rising, and my five senses were being devoured by the onslaught of breath.
[Th....]
Splash—
"...!"
Cold water crashed over my face. I reflexively blew out all the air in my lungs. My eyes flew open. The cloth covering my face, the water blocking my breath, the dim light filtering through the cloth underneath, my head thrown back—they all hit me in that instant. Tap. The sound of the old man's cane scraped against my eardrums.
An emotion I hadn't known back then suddenly surged up.
Boom—!
"Ugh...! Kgh...."
Mecklenburg, his face twisted in pain, struck my arm. Only then did I realize what I was doing. My head cleared in a rush. I felt something surging up through my throat. I hurriedly pulled back, and he coughed as he rose from his seat. I realized that Marco Schreiber's face, the chairman's subordinates—none of them were here. Even though they'd just been here moments ago. Like the timelines had overlapped.... I noticed an unfamiliar room entering my field of vision. In that state, I blankly said,
"...Sorry, Senior."
"...I'm not sure if I should be relieved that you snapped out of it."
Mecklenburg, rubbing his throat, sneered in a cold voice. I had neither the will nor the leisure to explain. The world was still shaking without a fixed center. My skull felt like it had cracked open. Nonsensical thoughts swirled in my head. It was only after a long while that I managed to squeeze out words again.
"Sorry. I have bad memories with water, so I messed up."
"......"
"I wasn't trying to hurt you, Senior."
Even if it sounded like an excuse, there was nothing to be done. It was an excuse. He didn't need to know how I would perceive water pouring down from above in pitch darkness, how I would perceive the blackness that robbed me of my sense of direction—and he probably didn't want to know either, so it was best to leave it at this. I was grateful that he, who possessed an unique ability that could kill me at any moment, had waited for my mind to return without using it. But separately from that, I wished the person in front of me would just disappear. That was all. With unsteady, trembling hands, I tapped the floor. A soundproofing spell enveloped us. Now I didn't have to hold my breath. I steadied my breathing and closed my eyes.
"Got it."
Mecklenburg gave a short reply to my words and turned to survey the room.
"We were in the Interworld just moments ago. The fact that it took some time suggests they held off on our transfer from the Interworld state—though there'd be no reason to do that unless there was resistance on their side, which delayed things."
Their side meaning the 91st Class Representative and Leo, I supposed. As my breathing gradually calmed, I lifted my head.
"If they cast a spell to move the arena we were in to the Interworld, then Mimeticis must be down. And the fact that was possible means there was a spy or they were attacked...."
Mecklenburg snapped his fingers. All the water that had splashed onto his clothes when he woke me dried up completely. He must have done it to conserve the stamina of his only comrade here right now. As I looked up at him, he met my gaze and said,
"No need to say who the enemy strong enough for that is. Where we are and who's behind this is clear."
I nodded. Articles I'd read over the past week flashed through my mind again. I'd already realized what had happened, but Mecklenburg stated it plainly, as if hammering reality home.
"It's the same incident as before. Only this time, the targets shifted from magical scholars to us."
"......"
I couldn't afford to get complacent.
Not that I could, anyway.
I'd been so focused on dealing with a collective madness of ethics that I'd forgotten why I'd been pulled from school all the way to the Prussian army. Beyond this official residence, training grounds, and headquarters, the world was still under emergency status—no one walked the streets, only newspapers flew about—and I knew it but hadn't truly felt it.
In the meantime, Pleroma had grown powerful enough to infiltrate the Special Operations Command. Was it an achievement brought about by the kidnapped wizards, or their inherent ability? If the former....
An unfinished worry resurfaced in my mind.
'What if we rewind time all the way before the wizards' disappearances.'
Narke had said there was nothing we could change. Was that true?
Retry Lv. 6
— Checkpoint
* 1. 'Emmanuel Wittelsbach's Mansion'
* 2. 'Grade 3 Berserker Elimination'
Emmanuel Wittelsbach's mansion.
Returning to the time when we intervened in Emmanuel's labyrinth. Having to go through everything we'd experienced so far again—yeah. I could endure it.
But returning to square one, the problem was this: If I went to all those elder wizards with their immense pride in their own magic and warned them that Pleroma would become active soon and might even kidnap them, I'd be lucky not to end up in a mental hospital. Even if they believed me after twists and turns, I'd have to explain where I got that info. If Pleroma postponed the current incident and caused another mass disappearance, I'd be the prime suspect for interrogation.
"......"
Dozens of possibilities surged up, overwhelming my mind. There were hopeful hypotheses, but they paled against the feasibility of the negative ones. It wasn't much different from my previous conclusion. Individuals are powerless against the flow.
I didn't fail to understand Narke's assertion that it was something that had to happen. Should I go to Abraham and tell him to govern properly because this would happen? I couldn't give him any hints about my ability. I shouldn't. Then the Bavarian royal family? This was far more hopeful; I could put out the immediate fire. But how long would the Hohenzollerns and imperial government heed the Bavarian royals' advice? Even if they did, could they stop it?
If I rewound time and something I hadn't experienced happened because the future changed. If that something was even worse. The worries shifted to more fundamental ones. Was stopping Emmanuel Wittelsbach's rampage unrelated to this incident? Stopping the Pentaron terror? Rewinding time didn't end there. Maybe this happened because I prevented the Pentaron terror. Maybe the world became like this because I intervened. The Elias I read about at 18 wasn't this tumultuous. These crises came much later. I could never be free from this doubt and guilt.
No matter how much I struggled, maybe I couldn't change this flow that was wrong from the first button, as Narke said—but what I had to do first was clear. No matter what, whether rewinding to before the disappearances in the worst case or before the Interworld transfer, I had to keep Retry in mind.
But right now, there was a more decisive problem than anything else.
If I rewound time now, I'd be with the Leo from the time I was saving Emmanuel Wittelsbach, not the Leo I'd spent today with. The Leo I'd meet upon returning would understand my explanation, wouldn't blame me, and might even say I did well. He was that kind of friend.
But the me who made that promise with him couldn't do that. I hadn't made that promise with half-hearted resolve that it was fine either way.
"Do you think Leonard Wittelsbach was captured and brought here too?"
"I'm curious where that renowned rotational thinking of yours went that you're asking me."
Mecklenburg scolded me without even looking. I wasn't leisurely enough to take offense at his words now. No time for a war of words. When I answered with silence instead, he spoke again.
"...Can't be sure. What shattered your Interworld and mine wasn't Pleroma—it was me. Pleroma cast the spell over the entire arena, but the transfers to the Interworld happened individually. They must have been wary of us combining forces."
"But why am I here with you, Senior...."
"Because I shattered your Interworld too. I boldly said I admired you, so maybe you've studied it, but I'm skilled in spatial magic."
Mecklenburg let out a long breath and slowly paced the room.
"...That's why we're here together. No idea where the other two went. Not even certain where Pleroma originally intended to take us. But this must be one of their bases."
"......"
"Rest up. Nothing special in this room, so let's go out and find an escape route."
As I nodded and wiped my face with my hand, lost in thought, Mecklenburg sighed and approached me, saying in an irritated voice,
"I know it's hasty, but there are no other options. If anyone was coming to rescue us, they'd be here by now. Even someone like our Sir Nikolaus Ernst, who couldn't be found during Pentaron despite all searches, might come save us—but better to rely on the Pentaron hero right here now."
"......"
Always mocking. Cynical bastard. Seeing he didn't think much of Nikolaus Ernst either, this guy really doesn't mesh with me.
His words meant not to expect outside help and to handle it with our own strength, so snap out of it. I swallowed a sigh and stood. Staying here would just lead to detection by Pleroma. Whether rewinding time or not, I had to find Leo and get out—sooner the better.
Mecklenburg held his breath and positioned himself by the door. I drew my wand and focused mana on my ears.
"......"
No signs of life outside. Mecklenburg exchanged glances with me and turned the doorknob.
Creak—
No one in the hallway, just dim mana lamps illuminating the corridor carpeted in red. We held our breaths, focusing on surrounding vibrations. Scanning each room for faint mana signatures—this process, though brief, felt like dozens of minutes by the time we reached the end. I could see tension in Mecklenburg's jaw.
At the dark staircase, Mecklenburg signaled me with his eyes, twirling his finger up and down. I nodded downward. Check if the retreat was intact first. Mecklenburg nodded and cautiously stepped forward. Then, we simultaneously spotted the same thing.
"......"
Light flickering from the first floor. Mecklenburg bit his lip. I tapped the floor with my foot.
"Soundproofing spell from here onward, 50 meters in all directions."
Boom—!!
Even before I finished, orange mana exploded like lightning. Shocked screams came from below.
"Uwaaaah!"
"W-Wait! Just a moment!"
"...?!"
Mecklenburg and I grimaced simultaneously. Grabbing the railing, I leaped over a step, propelling mana through my legs as I landed.
Boom— rumble rumble—
"W-What? Wait, wait!"
The two retreating figures hurriedly dodged my spell. But they couldn't go far.
Thud—!
They were struck by my mana and collapsed. New humanity or not, they rose on their upper bodies despite the hit and reached out toward us.
"W-Wait! Don't you know us?"
No, I don't. Instead of saying that, I narrowed my eyes and turned to Mecklenburg following behind me. Right then, I realized something was off. Mecklenburg's face was shocked, mouth agape.
"Why are you seniors here...."
"Looks like the same happened to you."
The two wizards brushed off their clothes and stood, their faces etched with despair. Mecklenburg, frowning, glanced at me and introduced them.
"These are 81st Class seniors."
81st Class.... Ancient history. One wizard gave a weary laugh and offered a handshake.
"Peter. This is Margarete."
"...Pleased to meet you."
I shook their hands. The 98th Class mocked us for handshakes, but the 81st had broad minds.
"What brings you here? Not here to rescue us, I assume."
"We were training in Mimeticis, got pulled through the Interworld to here."
"......"
The two 81st Class wizards exchanged troubled glances.
"Let's move for now. Talk on the way."
Mecklenburg followed behind them warily.
"You must have heard, but Pleroma grabbed our scholars indiscriminately. I'm probably on the missing list back home too?"
"Yes."
"This is the prison Pleroma made to control us wizards. They call it lodging, mildly enough."
"Just you seniors here?"
"More, but they've been summoned out."
"......"
I stared piercingly at his back, silently listening.
"They brought us the same way as you—suddenly, an Interworld opens without knowing what spell, someone hits your head, and here we are, almost a month now, it feels."
A month. It's barely been a week plus. Time dilation here? I pulled out my pocket watch from my clutch, checked it, and memorized the status window time.
"No way out?"
"If there was, we'd have done it. Tried everything."
To Mecklenburg's question, one wizard replied bitterly. By then, we'd reached the dining hall of this massive mansion.
"Anyone else arrive besides us?"
"You're the only ones we know of so far."
They brewed simple tea and set it before us, sitting. A candle flickered in the table's center. No one spoke first. After a moment, the wizard named Margarete said with a worried face,
"Government still not coming to save us?"
"...Haven't heard anything yet."
"We heard they went under Special Operations Command. Don't they discuss solutions there for this chaos?"
"We're handling berserkers, so we don't discuss emergency responses."
"......"
Margarete nodded.
"I see. Drink some tea and calm down first. Then we can discuss countermeasures. At least necessities keep coming...."
"That's fortunate."
I cut in abruptly, replying, and Mecklenburg shot me a rude look. Peter nodded with a bitter smile and pushed snacks toward us, as if urging us to eat. Margarete cautiously asked,
"So, any artifacts or escape tools you have now...?"
"Unfortunately, just wands."
"Troublesome. Figured they wouldn't let anything dangerous in here."
"You want to leave, I see."
Mecklenburg looked exasperated at my rude remark. How did this spineless guy end up jealous of Adrian Ascanien? Margarete replied with a what-are-you-saying face.
"Of course. Do we look like we don't want to leave? No idea how the government's spinning the coverage, but right now we're...."
"Nice mansion."
"......"
Now Peter's face was hardening too.
"I heard you loud and clear."
I stood, smiling, and extended my right hand to Peter.
Puzzled but with a rotten smile, he took it. I yanked his left arm, tearing the sleeve. Peter's mouth fell open.
"...!"
"......"
Two long surgical scars.
Looking at the long cross on his wrist, I met Peter's eyes. Mecklenburg stood.
"You've been baptized."
"......"
"Use Vitriol too, probably."
"...Well...."
Peter pulled his arm away, glaring as if I'd seen the rudest guy ever.
"It was under duress. If we used Vitriol proudly, why wouldn't we have when you attacked? We're the ones suffering."
Peter stared straight at me, whining.
"Since we'll live here ongoing, but Pleroma doesn't choose means or methods. How much could we resist? You'll soon...."
"Enough."
All three gazes turned to Margarete. Irritation gleamed in her eyes. She took a deep breath, stood, and stomped.
Rumble—!!
"...!"
The world before me crumbled; I shielded my face with my arms. The brown wooden floor turned to white marble. Reflexively, tears welled from the reflection.
'What the...!'
Momentary panic hit, but I quickly grasped it. Air entering my mouth and throat exploded inside, attacking my mana. My trachea and lungs burned.
'These bastards....'
They'd developed something new. Mana drained out, but I couldn't last long like this. Already, the parched trachea reeked of blood.
Boom— kaboom—
Pitch-black Vitriol burst before my eyes. Peter and Margarete, now drawing wands that hadn't been there before, unleashed attacks on us.
Now I knew why Pleroma changed the airborne chemicals. Indiscriminately blocking mana with chemicals would ruin research on captured wizards. They made it possible, but only the baptized could endure inside. And the 81st Class—whether traitors or brainwashed—weren't our side. They'd reported us to HQ after we crash-landed here due to Mecklenburg's coordinate disruption. I called to Mecklenburg somewhere outside my vision.
"Senior!"
Boom—!
I turned my wand to a sword, slashing Vitriol. Red gleams bouncing off their defenses and attacks hindered judgment.
"We'll die like this. What now?!"
"Talked big in the exam, now dumping it on me?"
Mecklenburg yelled back while blocking incoming Vitriol. Sirens blared in the hall. Pleroma footsteps approached.
Sizzle— bang—!
Vitriol grazed my face. My ear burned like fire, something trickling down my face to neck. I kept batting away incoming Vitriol and slammed my staff down.
[If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you!]
Rumble— clang—!
Vitriol flew straight at my heart. I deflected the hardened glob and crouched.
'Damn.'
Not working. Too many people. Even with amplification, the collapse was temporary; Pleroma chants noisily shook my ears. Mecklenburg's breathing behind me quickened.
"Senior! You block blood, can't you block Vitriol?!"
"Listen, the viscosity's completely different! Besides...."
Mecklenburg gritted his teeth, focusing on defense. His unique ability took a lot of power. Especially after using it in the round 2 exam earlier. No need to hear more. Pleroma reinforcements arrived faster than Mecklenburg could drop them with his unique ability.
"...Huff."
Boom— crash—
"Ugh!"
Mecklenburg lost balance; his staff slammed down. Then an attack hit him. He was defending, but it wasn't enough.
Hot liquid flowed from my nose. Vision spun. Without handling this air, no chance against this many Pleroma. Should've been by a river at least.
'Whew.'
Illusion of everything turning red before my eyes. My internals were so wrecked, it might not be an illusion.
Unclear if I'd survive out of here.
No choice now.
"Senior. Defend properly."
"What?!"
"Quick!"
I bellowed, turning my sword back to staff and slamming it down.
Rooooar—....
—Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.
I opened my closed eyes. Blinding white hid everything, but I clearly heard people collapsing.
Mecklenburg behind me staggered back.
I took a long deep breath and continued the incantation.
—Stretch out your hand, and through your holy name, perform healings, signs, and wonders.