Chapter 342
Chapter 342
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 342
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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To be honest, it was utterly absurd. How could it not be?
“Hey! Lucas! Hold up!”
*Stop chasing me already!*
Screw the oath. Screw the school. This was exactly why I’d decided on expulsion instead of withdrawal. I wasn’t going to submit a resignation letter. I’d just vanish on my own. Even as I sprinted at full speed, the students trailing behind were yelling their lungs out, calling my name.
“Lucas! Hey!”
“Do you even know me?! Since when have you known me?!”
“What?!”
Whatever. Fine, they knew me even if I didn’t know them. No matter what tricks the System was pulling, this much was obvious.
“Lucas, wait! You’re the student council president—where do you think you’re going? Without you, our school…”
“Will run just fine. Better than when I was there, I’m sure.”
“What did you say?!”
I sighed at that, kicked off the ground, and spun around. The students charging wildly came to a startled halt. If it were me, I’d have taken them down in that opening, but they didn’t—proof of how decent these kids really were. I nodded slowly, spread my hands to reassure them.
“Trust me. You’ll do great. Got it? You’ve all been amazing friends and outstanding students to me.”
“S-so…?”
“Take care of yourselves. I’m out!”
I launched off the ground, kicking up a cloud of sand behind me.
“Lucas! No! Someone cast a spell—grab him!”
“How do we even cast on him?! Will it even work?”
“Hey, Lucas! What about all the stuff you’re leaving behind?!”
“Ah, I don’t know! Just expel me!”
“Doing the recommendation for Imperial First Academy, right? You’ve got to go to college!”
“Not going!”
I shouted that as I rounded the corner—and slammed into a dead end. A wall. I channeled mana into my legs and leaped. I’d scaled the school wall maybe three or four times while filming, but never in real life. And now the System was making me do it.
Thud—
I brushed the sand from my hands and stood. Voices of panicked students drifted from the other side. Only now did I take in the scene before me: streets a bit rundown but far more prosperous than old Anhalt, red rooftops under a brilliant blue sky. The city center of the Grand Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.
Sorry to the strangers down there, but now that it had come to this, I couldn’t stay in Strelitz.
*Good. Nice.*
I’d escaped. Escaped… but…
The problem was, I had little experience in central-northern Germany, and I’d never set foot in the Grand Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. I took a deep breath, snapped my fingers, and recalled the warp coordinates for Berlin. Strangely, nothing happened.
*Why not?*
Magic was working fine?
Another System trick? Well, train stations all looked alike anyway. I exhaled shortly and bolted toward what looked like one. Sliding inside, I bombarded the old ticket seller at the brick counter.
“Hello. Standing room’s fine—whatever’s fastest. What’s the soonest train still available?”
“Eh, Lucas?”
“…”
Why do you know me? I stared down at the total stranger, a rude thought crossing my mind. The ticket seller looked puzzled.
“What brings you here? Isn’t His Highness the Hereditary Grand Duke visiting our country today?”
“Probably. Anyway, can you tell me what trains are left? It’s urgent.”
“Heh heh, trains in this situation? That welcome speech you read me yesterday still sticks in my mind, though. Ah, the sunset of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, like the sun dyeing the vast wheat fields with grace… I’m no good with letters, but didn’t I say it felt too *muse*-like? A *muse* in a welcome address! You went with my suggestion and added the Baltic Sea, right?”
“…Was that me yesterday…? That romantic wasn’t me.”
“Heh heh heh!”
“I’m serious right now. So, what’s the fastest train?”
“Right. Let’s head back to school!”
I nodded with a smile. Once we were out and he seemed fine, I bolted at full speed again.
This world’s Lucas must’ve been incredibly sociable. Student council president and buddies with the train station ticket guy? Next thing you know, he’d know everyone in town.
“Lucas?!”
*Damn it…*
The moment I thought he knew everyone, a man in council uniform popped out, calling my name. You know me too? Perfect. I darted aside to dodge him, but he swung his cane like a staff, shoving me back with mana.
“Back to school!”
“Who even are you?”
“What would your father say? No time for games.”
“Hold on. Who are you?”
I already had three “fathers” barking at me—sure that’s okay? Then a hazy shadow rippled at my feet like a curtain over the sun, mana crashing over my head. I flung mana backward with my arm, but it was a hair too late. The cobblestones rushed at my face.
* * *
I rubbed my jaw, taped with a bandage. Scraped it falling. I must’ve been sticking out my lip unconsciously, because “Father” smacked my mouth with his hand.
“What.”
“Why are you acting up today? You have to meet His Highness the Hereditary Grand Duke. Our Müller family owes so much to the Grand Ducal House of Mecklenburg-Strelitz—we need to catch his eye.”
“Why me?”
“Huh.”
Wasn’t that Hereditary Grand Duke the guy I knew? Catch *his* eye? He’s the one who needed to impress *me*.
With some breathing room, I checked: my eyes were blue. Age eighteen. Today, the Hereditary Grand Duke was visiting the school in his territory for an experience day. Oddly, despite dumping me at school, my bag was packed with stuff for Bayern—tons of money, artifacts, elixirs, like screaming “Go to Munich-Freising.”
*Got it. Prepping for Munich-Freising, loud and clear. But why drop me in northern Germany? Can’t even escape now.*
And finally, my name: Lucas Müller. Nothing else. I clutched my face and asked.
“How old are you?”
“Don’t even know your father’s age? Turned fifty-six this year.”
Full fifty-six… Older than my old-human dad. He looked mid-to-late forties, so definitely new-human. Post-new-human era, even old-humans preferred no beards, making it hard to tell. But less of an apparent-age gap than Father Ascanien’s meant mediocre mana. Didn’t know Albert Mecklenburg’s age, but this Lucas had never properly met him.
Fine. Conclusion: the Müller family I was in was minor nobility in the Grand Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.
“I need the bathroom.”
“Go on, but hurry back.”
“Yes.”
I said that calmly, shut the door. Then, naturally, sprinted full tilt again.
*This damn System won’t allow warp?*
Fine, let’s see how far it goes. I’ll just run till I drop.
I ran like hell, sparking a twenty-minute chase, and got caught again. “Father” grabbed my collar and shook me.
“I can’t live with you like this! His Highness has arrived! I never dreamed the responsible, respectful kid would stress me out today of all days…”
“Ha…”
“Right, Lucas. Just through this door. Everyone’s waiting…”
A high schooler I’d never seen acted like we were besties. I glared at the weathered leather-covered auditorium door and sighed.
*Berlin, maybe. But escaping here? No dice.*
Deep down, I probably knew. Just didn’t want to accept reality while wasting time here. I needed to hit Munich-Freising right now for practice! Sure, barely five minutes outside, but did I have the mental bandwidth for school life?
Then the student handed me two files.
“Here—the pledge and your prepared speech.”
“That *muse* speech, huh.”
“Muse? Uh, well…”
“Thanks for grabbing them. I’ll do great.”
I tilted my head with a smile. Better to comply and bide my time. Deep breath, open the door: seated students everywhere, politicians on the podium.
And a familiar face. A slightly boyish Albert Mecklenburg. Our eyes met—his smile vanished. Knowing what that meant, I muttered curses inwardly, smiled, and stood before him.
“Your Highness Hereditary Grand Duke Albert Mecklenburg, an honor to meet you.”
He quickly tugged his lips up, so I turned to the students and said.
“Good morning. To commemorate His Highness the Hereditary Grand Duke’s visit to Mecklenburg-Strelitz National Magic School, the weather’s splendid.”
Teachers smirked at the quip. Students didn’t laugh—telling how dull this was. Still, I kept smiling and boomed.
“First, the pledge.”
Students rose at my words. No emcee teacher? I’d wing it 21st-century style.
“Pledge!”
They raised hands. I skimmed the text, scanned faces, and read.
“We, Lucas Müller, student representative of Mecklenburg-Strelitz National Magic School, and 103 others, solemnly pledge to diligently pursue studies for the prosperity of the Grand Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, and to hold respect for all who strive for it. September 12, 1891. Student Representative Lucas Müller.”
Respect, my ass… Who puts that in a pledge? Felt the ruling family senior’s hand—forcing this rural magic school visit from Imperial Second Academy.
“Now, the welcome address. Probably. Honored to speak before the principal.”
I glanced at the speech—mine, or rather the other Lucas’s—back of the pledge. Sunset wheat fields, sentimental drivel. Shut it quick. I scanned the room and improvised.
“A historic day. His Highness Hereditary Grand Duke Albert Mecklenburg and Interior Ministry officials visit our Mecklenburg-Strelitz National Magic School. We all know this school runs smoothly thanks to Strelitz Interior and our faculty. Right?”
Mild cheers from students. I pressed on.
“And today, unusually, His Highness visits. Studying brilliantly at Berlin’s Imperial Second Academy, renowned for noble character—always an example for us students. Thrilled to meet him, I’m sure we all feel the same. Big applause for our guests!”
Thunderous claps filled the hall. A teacher glanced around, advised me.
“Um, Lucas Müller will meet His Highness privately today and guide the school for the week.”
They’d scripted that into the welcome. I nodded indifferently. Mecklenburg spoke from behind.
“Delighted to meet the student rep. Heard your reputation even in Berlin—light of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.”
“Thank you. Thanks to the Grand Duchy’s unwavering support for studies and magic. And, I have something to say.”
“Go ahead.”
I turned to the faculty.
“I’m withdrawing, effective today.”
“…”
Silence like cold water. Eyes wide—teachers, students, even mouths agape. Amid the heavy scene, my mind was serene. Obviously, the withdrawal declaration wasn’t literal. As student rep and shining star, would it fly? Sounded impulsive, but calculated. Now, watch.
“…Hahaha!”
Albert Mecklenburg, staring blankly, burst into cheerful laughter, then firmly.
“Denied.”
* * *
I needed to avoid one-on-one with Albert Mecklenburg. Best route: caught by teachers and father. Only shot was withdrawal. But “possible” wasn’t “likely”—screwed now.
*Hm.*
Nobles, especially ruling house, watched their words. Thought their “denied” worked everywhere. It did, breeding arrogance.
Anyway, “Father’s” wish granted—I’d caught Mecklenburg’s eye. In the school reception room, he sat primly, eyes crinkling at me. I smiled back, greeted.
“Senior, you’ve been pissy with me forever.”
“Senior, huh.”
Arms crossed, he pondered, smiled.
“Lucas, honestly, I don’t like ‘senior’ from a same-age peer. No idea what you’re thinking, but how about dropping formalities and getting friendly?”
Ah, the good-guy act—long time no see. At least for me. Soft smile holding, he continued.
“Worried about your earlier outburst? No need to fret over such a trifle. No harm to House Müller. Heard you’ve been stressed with studies. Truth is, I sometimes want to quit school too—we’ve got that in common, eh?”
I glanced at the seat he indicated, said.
“Funny how I stripped your mask. Sorry, gotta go.”
“No can do.”
Feigning gravity, he went on.
“Told you I’m here to check my future land’s magic school. You, student rep, were to guide. Plus, you’re acclaimed as exceptional in our duchy—I need time talking talents like you.”
“Knew you’d cling, so I said withdrawal.”
Processing drama would take longer than this.
“And I denied it.”
He leaned forward, murmured softly.
“Really curious why you look like my Berlin friend.”
“…”
“Baron Müller doesn’t resemble you, no Ascanien lookalikes in your house that I’ve heard… Saw you, felt off, asked Interior Minister—apparently you’re famously Ascanien-like. My memory wrong? Or did everyone’s brains get tampered since morning, and I’m the only one seeing truth?”
Here’s the real talk. Why I said “clinging longer”: predicted withdrawal fallout would take time—yet I blurted it anyway. He’d frozen on sight; obvious why. I met his eyes. Overlaying someone else—same at twenty-five or eighteen. Subtle urge to reclaim ego from friend Ascanien’s stomping. Right in that phase.
Truth: no clue what crafts these worlds. Why different eras. System wants something, or possession itself suffices. But clear: no direct Munich-Freising drop, escape fails—must build with Mecklenburg. His extra chapter, so pull into my orbit.
But no blunt grabs to botch it. I looked down, muttered.
“No idea how to explain looking like your friend, but if it bugs you, one fix. I’m heading to Munich. Won’t cross your sight awhile—let me withdraw.”
“No clue why Munich, but no. You’re Mecklenburg-Strelitz’s prime asset—what happens if you vanish? Withdrawals tough by rule anyway, can’t warp abroad as student—why Bayern?”
He pointed as he said “can’t warp.” Peering at my hand, he mimed rolling sleeve.
“…”
Mid-forearm: thin metal clung skin-tight. Pulled—no give, enchanted.
*Ah…*
Wrong to curse System blindly. Now I got it. Warp-blocker. Ruling house studies Berlin but ties local nobles? Wizards are assets. Observing me, he asked gently.
“Signed contract on enrolling, right? Why now?”
Didn’t know as Imperial Second like you. Truth useless.
Anyway, other national magic schools same. Undo this, warp to Bayern border. Start against Munich-Freising dog-death odds. He lacked tool now, but authority clear. His grinning eyes shifted—knew my want, thought he had leverage. From what I knew, likely.
Then, make him *want* Munich with me. Ally handy. I smiled back at his smile.
“Indeed.”
“…”
“Guess no pushing withdrawal. Nice few days ahead.”
* * *