Chapter 390

Snow we’d tossed into the air drifted down onto my cheeks. I frowned at the faint chill seeping into my skin, glanced at Yuri, who was still happily flinging handfuls of snow around, then looked back up at the sky. It was hopelessly clear.

“Where should we go now, Lukas?”

“The infirmary.”

“Can’t we play a little first? I found where a Eurasian red squirrel lives. Come on!”

Yuri chattered nonstop until my ears hurt, dragging me along by the arm.

“Hold on, Yuri. Before that, say your name again. Slowly.”

No response. Ignoring anything that didn’t interest him really was typical for his age. I rubbed my forehead, let out a sigh, and asked calmly, “Do Eurasian red squirrels even live in Russia?”

Of course they do.

Good thing I swallowed the sarcasm. Yuri puffed out his chest as if he were speaking on behalf of all of Russia.

“They do! And unlike the German ones, ours have thicker fur and they’re chubbier.”

“What? I don’t think squirrels would be that different.”

“They are! Russian squirrels are way chubbier.”

“…Okay.”

Was a squirrel’s weight really that important? Better to just agree and move on.

I silently followed him, and before long we reached the woods behind the monastery. Yuri dashed ahead, crouched beneath a stone pine, and started digging at the dirt around its base.

“Look!”

“I thought you were going to show me a squirrel. You’re showing me its food?”

Inside the little hole he’d dug were pine nuts and acorns. Chuckling, I crouched down beside him. Yuri picked up an acorn and asked, “Think we should eat one? They forget where they hide these anyway.”

“They forget…? That’s kind of tragic. Have you actually eaten one of these before?”

“I found one lying around after winter ended once.”

“Oh.”

Very in tune with nature, I see. Other than acorn jelly, I’d never eaten anything made from acorns. I stood up and gave his shoulder a light pat.

“Don’t steal the squirrels’ food. We’re heading to the infirmary now. And before we go, tell me your name again.”

Let’s have a proper conversation there. I lightly tugged on the hood of his robe before letting go, hoping he’d get the hint. Yuri stumbled a few steps from the pull, then quickly shook off my hand and went right back to bouncing around. So much for that.

I folded my arms with a faint smile and let out a quiet sigh. Just then, Yuri rounded a tree, urgently waved me over, and whispered, “Over here!”

I narrowed my eyes toward where he was pointing. A small black-furred animal darted from tree to tree.

Right. A squirrel.

I wasn’t particularly impressed, but Yuri looked absolutely thrilled just to have spotted one, staring at it with his mouth hanging open. He waved me over again and ran toward the field beside the woods. Part of it seemed to belong to the monastery, open enough to walk around, while the path leading out to the wider plains was blocked by a wooden fence. In front of it were a few rough pens divided by crude fencing.

Yuri pointed at one of the rabbits inside.

“We raise rabbits back here too.”

“What for? To eat them?”

“Yeah.”

I briefly wondered if he’d misunderstood my German. Then I decided not to think about it and pointed toward the next pen.

“No chickens?”

“We keep ducks and geese.”

“To eat those too?”

“Yeah.”

“…….”

Self-sufficient… I guess. Resting my chin on my hand, I looked at the rabbits inside the pen. A metal inspection plate fixed to the outside of the fence had the year 1888 stamped on it. Yuri held out a piece of shriveled chicory from a small wooden bucket toward the rabbits as he spoke.

“We almost never leave the monastery. The only time we get to go outside is when we’re helping out in the village, like earlier. Better remember that.”

“Got it. But…”

“So if a teacher sends you on an errand, you have to go. Once I got sent to buy butter, so I got to play outside for a little while. But if you wander off and get caught, you’re in huge trouble. This is a monastery. No matter what we end up doing in the future, we’re supposed to live an ascetic life while we’re here.”

“What do you want to do when you grow up?”

I watched as he offered a reed to the ducks and asked. One of the ducks had been sleeping with its head tucked beneath its wing. It noticed the reed moving, curiously sniffed at it, then promptly turned away and went back to sleep. Yuri answered quietly.

“I don’t know yet.”

“…….”

“I feel like I could become anything. And I want to be anything.”

I nodded. After a long silence, I replied, “Yeah. I think you can.”

Provided that becoming Pleroma’s Messiah counted as “anything.” I immediately changed the subject.

“So, what’s your name?”

“I told you. Yuri.”

“I meant your surname.”

Maybe he thought it was strange how stubbornly I kept asking. Yuri stared at me for a while before breaking into a grin.

“You should forget the things worth forgetting! Now I’m wondering if I should even tell you.”

I slipped an arm around his shoulders and tilted my head.

“I won’t forget this time. Tell me, Yura.”

“…….”

The pair of wide eyes beside me blinked rapidly.

Did I get it wrong? Still smiling, I watched his reaction. Wasn’t Yura a diminutive for Yuri? The book I’d just read had said so. I was pretty sure I had it right, so there was no point panicking. Even if I was wrong, I could just bluff my way through.

Yuri burst out laughing.

“You only started talking today! And now you’re calling me that? You even called the teacher earlier like it was nothing. So were you just pretending to be shy this whole time?”

“…No. I wasn’t pretending.”

I wanted to say more, but nothing came to mind. Should I pretend to be timid? I didn’t have time for that. I smiled at him instead.

“Why wouldn’t I call you that? More importantly, I can’t even remember my own name properly. You know what my name is, right?”

“Of course! Lukas Konstantinovich Alekseyev!”

“…Konstantinovich Alekseyev? What’s with that name? And why do I have a Russian name? I’m German…”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s with it?’ Or would you rather be Konstantinovna Alekseyeva? But that doesn’t matter to us anyway.”

To us. Unlike Russia’s Old Humans, New Humans didn’t place much importance on gendered names. The first version he mentioned was the masculine form, the second the feminine one, but among New Humans, whether you used Konstantinovich or Konstantinovna wasn’t considered a marker of gender.

That still didn’t explain why I had a Russian name. So I simply looked at him and waited for him to continue. Apparently he took that as me wanting to know why I’d been given a Russian name—which was exactly right. He smacked his lips once before answering.

“How do you still not remember? When you first wandered into this area, the abbot was the one who brought you here. You said you couldn’t remember your family name, so he gave you one. You seriously don’t remember?”

“I don’t.”

“Really? Well, alright then. Oh, and it’s the same surname as mine. Be proud of it~”

“The same surname? Yours and mine?”

So that was why he’d reacted that way every time I asked his name. More importantly, why did we have to share the same surname? Careful not to sound like I was pressing a child, I looked at him as calmly as I could.

“Yeah. The abbot gave us the same family name. It’s actually a secret, because…”

Yuri pulled off his glove and clapped his hands together. Brilliant blue mana burst from his bare skin, spreading through the air like waves.

“I’m the only New Human here. And you’re a New Human too, right?”

The only New Human.

I thought of Ismailov’s face in the future—his features so androgynous that even after puberty, it was impossible to tell whether he was male or female at first glance.

Only then did I realize how un-aristocratic the children here—including Yuri—had become after growing up in this place. I also remembered the monk’s graying beard that reached below his neck, and his hands, weathered and rough like tree bark with age—things I had never seen in Berlin, where New Humans and Old Humans who admired them filled the city.

Right.

In the original timeline, Yuri Alekseyev was the only mage in this monastery. Looking at his face, with the hollow future overlapping it, I forced a smile.

“Yuri! Isn’t it class time?”

Just then, a teacher who looked to be the dorm supervisor shouted from the skybridge connecting the upper floor of the monastery dormitory. Their booming voice echoed across the entire complex. I felt a little guilty toward Yuri, but stronger than that was my relief. Finally, I’d have a reason to get him to the infirmary.

Yuri sprang to his feet in a panic and grabbed my arm.

“We’re in trouble. Come on!”

The smell of dust filled the air. The rumble of horses’ hooves and bicycle wheels rang in my ears, and my fingertips brushed against the seams between the blue bricks paving the sidewalk. The hems of Victorian dresses and the hurried footsteps of young men in polished black shoes filled my vision.

“Good job, Senior.”

I pushed myself off the ground. Mecklenburg, who’d been sitting beside me, jumped in surprise, yelped, and landed flat on his backside with a grimace.

“Wha— You literally just collapsed…. More importantly, did you just call me Herr?”

He dragged out the word, fixating on the honorific for no reason.

Right. I’d entered Mecklenburg’s Extra Chapter. Before me was the exhausted face of eighteen-year-old Mecklenburg, completely worn out after spending the whole time chasing after Einsiedel and me. And of course, calling him that had just been a habitual slip. I dusted the dirt off my clothes and gave his shoulder a pat.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? You look like the type who enjoys being addressed like that, so I decided to indulge you.”

“What kind of insane nonsense is that? Like what?”

“You like it when people address you respectfully. Why pretend otherwise?”

“…Since when?! Just talk to me normally!”

My ears are ringing. I raised a hand, signaling him to quiet down. Whether the real Mecklenburg would’ve listened was another story, but at least eighteen-year-old Mecklenburg obediently shut his mouth.

“Just making sure. We parted ways with Einsiedel, right?”

“…Just now. Also, you were sprawled out flat in the middle of Munich, then called me Herr. Mind getting out of the middle of the street before we keep talking? This is embarrassing, Lukas.”

“The more you say that, the more I want to stay right here.”

Mecklenburg looked me up and down with a blatantly judgmental stare. Judging by that look, he was probably thinking, He looks exactly like my friend, but everything that comes out of his mouth is completely different. I slung an arm over his shoulder and pushed his head down.

“Enough of that, Albert. Munich’s quite a beautiful city, isn’t it?”

“Where did that come from?”

“I’m just really touched that a northerner like you came all the way to Munich for my sake.”

“You tricked me into coming!”

“Not at all. You came on your own. You followed me all the way here to beat me up like some annoying mosquito.”

What a stubborn idiot. Rewrites his own memories however he likes. I swallowed the words and firmly shook my head.

“Anyway, since you’re a northerner, I figured I’d take you somewhere that feels a bit more like home.”

“…Right. We should head back to Strelitz. You’ll be going back to school soon, and I’ve got to return to the Imperial Second Academy.”

I lowered my gaze with a bitter smile and nodded. The strange little look of triumph creeping onto Mecklenburg’s face—as if he had only just remembered that I wasn’t enrolled at the Empire’s top magic academy—was so ridiculous I almost laughed. Mecklenburg stepped in front of me, took my hand as if to shake it, and smiled with exaggerated melancholy.

“Even after I go back to the Imperial Second Academy, I’ll never forget you. Especially since you look so much like my friend. I’ll keep investigating why someone who looks exactly like him has managed to fool everyone this whole time… Still, it’s been fun. I’ll be cheering for you from the Imperial Second Academy.”

“No, Albert. We’re going to Russia now.”

“…What?”

Silence fell. After another fifteen minutes of arguing, we somehow managed to make it into the station—still bickering the whole way.

“This is ridiculous, Lukas. Are you out of your mind? No, wait—you are. Why did I even ask? The fact that I’m asking you if you’re sane means I’m the crazy one.”

“Good. Nice to see you finally have some self-awareness. You’re the insane one. I’m perfectly sane.”

I pointed back and forth between Mecklenburg and myself. He grabbed the back of his neck and let out a long breath, the kind of reaction you’d expect from someone who’d spent his whole life dealing only with people polite enough to smile through everything. After staring up at the sky for a moment, he threw both hands into the air.

“No sane person suddenly decides they’re going to Russia!”

“Correct that to, ‘No stuffy person.’ I’m just living life freely.”

“See? You’re proving you’re insane. Me, though? I don’t want to go wandering around anymore. I’ve already been through way too much because of you…”

Mecklenburg stared blankly into space, looking completely defeated. I knew exactly what he was thinking about. The Pleroma members he’d taken down. I nodded sympathetically, smiled, and let my hand slip from his shoulder.

“Then don’t come. I’m not stopping you. Go back to the Imperial Second Academy and hang out with that annoying friend of yours who looks like me.”

Having him around would make things easier, sure. But I didn’t actually need him. What I needed was the year 1891.

Since Ismailov’s Extra Chapter took place in 1888, something important must have happened in his life around that time. I had no idea what turning point eighteen-year-old Mecklenburg had gone through. Leo’s Extra Chapter revolved around the day he witnessed Lukas Askanien’s magic a few months later. Maybe Ismailov had gone through something just as significant. Which meant I needed an Extra Chapter set after that point.

I glanced at the dazed Mecklenburg, snatched my train ticket out of his hand, and headed for the ticket counter.

“W-Wait. Lukas!”

“What now, man?”

“If we’re going back, we’d have to take the train together…”

“We can take separate trains. Anyway, what is it now?”

“…Well, I still have to tell my family you weren’t actually a heretic.”

“Mm.”

“We cleaned up the aftermath, sure, but if Pleroma comes after you for what happened in Munich-Freising… I wouldn’t be able to relax, so I figured I’d stay and look—”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.

“Look after who? Aren’t you the one who needs protecting?”

“…!”

Beeeeep—

[The train bound for Saxony has arrived. Passengers traveling to Hof Central Station, please—]

The station announcement might as well not have existed. Mecklenburg’s face turned bright red. He stared at me with his mouth hanging open, then took a step back, frowning. It was the exact expression he always made whenever something happened that his brain simply refused to accept. Smirking, I patted him on the shoulder.

“Alright. File for sick leave at the Imperial Second Academy.”

I turned around immediately. A moment later, I heard him grumble behind me.

“Forget it! I’m not going! Geez…”

“Then don’t.”

“No…! The train’s already here…!”

“So what’s your point?”

Dragging my luggage behind me, I dropped into my reserved seat. Mecklenburg followed, still sulking with his lips stuck out.

Ignoring him, I took a bite of the Quarkkäulchen I’d bought at the station, topped with honey and raisins. Then I offered him the other half, since he’d been forced to stare out the window to avoid looking at me. The truth was, the raisins ruined it, and I didn’t want another bite of the floury thing. Mecklenburg didn’t even glance at it. Still pouting, he muttered, “So what are we going for this time?”

“You didn’t even know I was going anywhere until just now, and you’re only asking that now? The more I look at you, the more I think you’re the type who can’t just enjoy everyday life.”

“I haven’t agreed to go yet. I’ll decide after I hear you out.”

“Same reason as before. Heretics. There’s someone I need to find. Do you speak Russian?”

“A little. I learned it for diplomatic work.”

“Damn. You’re a genius.”

Mecklenburg pressed his lips into a thin line. I let out a dry laugh and looked away.

We took a train to the Bavarian border, then warped to Mecklenburg-Strelitz. Ever since I’d bruised his pride where magic was concerned, even seeing me pull off a long-distance warp without trouble seemed to annoy him—though the idiot had no idea that I was also a student at the Imperial Second Academy. He clicked his tongue, and the moment I grabbed a pillar at House Mecklenburg-Strelitz’s private warp point to steady myself, he smirked.

“You memorize everything perfectly, yet you still collapse at the very end. And you were always top of the class.”

“What does being top of the class have to do with it? I just like lying down.”

He looked like he was about to start another round of complaining, so I gave him a light smack on the back and said quietly, “First, there’s something I need you to do.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a kid named Yuri Alekseyev studying at the Lavrentyev Orthodox Monastery School in Kaluga, Russia. He should be around eleven by now.”

“Why are you looking for—…Never mind. Go on.”

“I need to know whether he’s still at that monastery school. Can I trust the Mecklenburg-Strelitz Intelligence Bureau with that?”

“Hm.”

Mecklenburg rubbed his chin and avoided my eyes. I narrowed mine at the reaction. After glancing around, he answered calmly.

“First of all, Lukas. ‘Intelligence Bureau’ sounds impressive, but the Mecklenburg-Strelitz Intelligence Bureau was really founded to support domestic development.”

“That sounds like a long-winded way of saying bad news. Get to the point.”

“Russia’s a bit beyond our reach.”

“The Kingdom of Bavaria could check something like this without breaking a sweat.”

“That’s because they’re Bavaria! Besides, what—”

I waved my hand dismissively, indicating to drop it. With a dissatisfied expression, Mecklenburg looked at me and said bluntly.

“…We could send an official inquiry to the school under the house’s name. Just send it in the name of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. Would that interfere with your plans?”

“Oh, it’d interfere, all right. Forget it. Why don’t we just announce it to the whole neighborhood while we’re at it?”

What I needed to know was whether Ismailov was still there—in other words, whether Pleroma had already taken him. If they had, they’d almost certainly still be monitoring or managing the monastery. We couldn’t risk letting our inquiry reach them. I paused to think for a moment, then motioned to him.

“If it’s really impossible, then it can’t be helped. Just ask your family to do me one favor—have them get me a train ticket to Russia.”

Mecklenburg, who had been walking ahead, nodded.

“That’s not difficult, but you do realize that even if you leave from the eastern edge of East Prussia, it’ll still take at least three days by train to reach Kaluga, right? From where I’m standing, there’s no way you’re in your right mind.”

Geez, what a pain in the neck. Was three days really that big of a deal? Smiling, I replied, “Yeah, I know. So if you’re too scared to call in sick, you can stay behind.”

At that, Mecklenburg came to an abrupt stop and slowly turned around.

“Phew.”

The air was crisp. I drew in Kaluga’s icy air—cold enough to feel like winter despite it being autumn—and slowly let it out. In the distance, I could make out a domed roof. That was the monastery school Ismailov had attended.

Maintaining the concealment magic over both myself and Mecklenburg was a bit taxing. I was absently fastening another button on my robe when Mecklenburg, looking pale as a ghost, jabbed a finger toward the town and shouted, “An illegal warp? Illegal? Seriously? You pretended to be an Orthodox believer just to get permission to warp? Do you even know the first thing about the Orthodox Church?!”

“How is it illegal when it has the Russian Empire’s seal on it? I told you, Albert—if you’re scared, you can leave.”

At this rate, the whole country was going to know we bailed off the train halfway through. With that in mind, I grabbed him by the shoulder.

“We did everything we could. We spent fifty-one hours on that train. Fifty-one hours. I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

We did stop at inns along the way, but still. Mecklenburg let out a long sigh. The dark circles under his eyes made it obvious just how exhausted he was.

“…Good thing we’re New Humans. If we’d been Old Humans, we never would’ve made it.”

“Old Humans can survive fifty-one hours on a train too, you weakling.”

“What?”

“The important part is that we are weaklings.”

“You’re the only weakling here!”

I clamped a hand over his mouth and unfolded the map.

If we’d already endured fifty-one hours on a train, couldn’t we have just stuck it out and made it seventy-two? Of course we could have. If we really wanted to, we could’ve lasted. But there was a reason we couldn’t.

“Why do you think we got off halfway?”

“Because your butt couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Very funny. Try giving me a serious answer.”

I looked him straight in the eye before continuing.

“We can’t let anyone know we came here. By now, Pleroma may have already heard that a trio of mages turned Munich-Freising upside down. And if they have, they’ll be hunting the people responsible. I’ll explain the details later.”

Compared to the original past Einsiedel created, our raid on the Munich-Freising archives ended up affecting a much wider area. That means I have to consider the possibility that things may unfold differently from the original past.

On top of that, I’ve now come to the place where Pleroma’s future messiah lives. Which also means I’ve stepped into a place Pleroma may already have had its eye on in 1891. Their influence was nowhere near as strong as it would be in 1898, but there was no downside to playing it safe. There was a reason we got off the train early and warped here instead. If someone picked up our trail, I didn’t want them to be able to track us—or trace us back—too easily.

From the hill overlooking Kaluga, I grabbed Mecklenburg by the arm and pulled him down.

“Hey, wait, Lukas! We just climbed all the way up here, why are we—”

“We’re changing our looks. I’ll make your hair red. Green eyes are fine, right?”

“What? How? Hey, wait! I like my eye color!”

“Is this really the time to be picky?”

I snapped my fingers in front of him. He looked at me with eyes full of doubt and wariness. But the moment I turned my own hair platinum blond, his eyes flew wide open and his jaw dropped.

“…?!”

The color drained from Mecklenburg’s face.

Good. Now we were finally ready to meet eleven-year-old Ismailov. I took the lead and motioned for him to follow.

“Come on. We’re almost there.”