The Food Is Good
‘My youngest boy. You are going to be the greatest prodigy House Kundel has ever seen.’
‘Really, Father?’
‘Of course. My eyes never deceive me. You will grow into someone truly magnificent. Don’t tell your brothers, but your talent far surpasses theirs.’
‘Then I’m going to become the empire’s greatest knight!’
‘Of course, of course. Naturally you will.’
For a fleeting second, it felt as though his entire life had flashed before his eyes.
Deleve blinked, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
It was the third time.
This time, he had been taken down the moment his attention was drawn by the piece of chalk Xiel had flicked through the air.
Hushed murmurs rippled through the lecture hall.
“He lost again?”
“Did he even lose? It looked more like he just got slammed into the dirt…”
“Three times in a row…”
It was utterly humiliating. Not merely because he had stepped forward brimming with confidence only to be brought low, but because of what had actually occurred.
What in the world just happened?
In the blink of an eye, the instructor named Xiel had vanished from sight, and the next thing Deleve knew, his body was crashing hard against the floor. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Even whenever he lost a spar in the past, he had always understood precisely how and why he had been bested. Yet this time, he had seen nothing at all. He had closed his eyes, opened them, and found himself eating floorboards.
I’m the greatest talent of House Kundel…!
A supreme prodigy destined to eclipse his older brothers. That very pride had been the driving force that sustained Deleve’s entire life. And now, that pride was being systematically ground into dust.
“Distraction is the simplest, most effective method to ensure an ambush succeeds,” Xiel explained in an even, dispassionate voice, completely oblivious to—or entirely uncaring of—the boy’s inner turmoil. “If something suddenly flies into your field of vision, suspect what lies behind you.”
The watching students could only stare in collective disbelief.
Suspect what lies behind us? We didn’t even have time to blink, let alone suspect anything…
How on earth can someone flick a piece of chalk that fast?!
The absurdity of it was beyond words.
Flushed with disgrace, Deleve barely managed to push himself up from the ground.
“Student Deleve Kundel,” Xiel said, regarding him calmly. “Do you now understand the importance of self-defense?”
“……”
It was a mortification that ran far deeper than simple wounded pride. All that remained in Deleve’s mind was a desperate, burning urge to redeem himself.
“No… I don’t… understand it yet.”
Xiel tilted his head slightly. He had demonstrated it so clearly, yet the boy still failed to grasp it?
Is his aptitude lacking?
Even so, a teacher had a solemn duty to guide a student, regardless of their shortcomings.
“Then allow me to help you understand once more.”
“Come at me as much as you like!”
Venom flared in Deleve’s eyes. This time, I will see it.
However.
Crash!
Once again, he saw nothing. Deleve struck the floor in the exact same fashion. There was no flying chalk this time. Instead, the lights flickered off and on in the span of a single heartbeat.
Are you insane…?!
It was even faster than before. The lights had snapped off the instant the attack began, only to flood back into the room the moment his back slammed into the floor.
“Your reaction is sluggish,” Xiel critiqued flatly. “When anticipating an ambush from behind, keep your hands poised at chest level. It allows for a swifter response.”
Deleve sprang back to his feet like a coiled spring. Without even realizing it, his hands automatically snapped to chest level just as Xiel had instructed. He had not intended to obey, but his body moved on instinct alone. At this point, embarrassment no longer mattered.
“I still… don’t… understand!”
Thud!
Crash!
From that point on, Deleve failed to block a single strike, tumbling to the hard floor dozens of times.
“Your movement was slightly faster that time.”
“Deflecting outward with your palm is far more effective than trying to block with the back of your hand.”
“Do not drag your feet. It creates an instant of delay in your footwork.”
With each tumble and sharp correction, Deleve’s defensive reactions grew progressively sharper. The lights flashed on and off, and chalk whistled through the air time and again.
“This time, it will be smoke. Consider this a warning.”
Poof!
A smoke bomb burst with a muffled pop, and as expected, Deleve went rolling across the floor once more.
A smoke bomb?! Where did he even pull that from?
Aren’t smoke canisters reserved for second-year advanced combat courses…?!
Near the end of the second year at the Sword School, students underwent practical simulated combat training that mimicked life-or-death battlefields. That was the only curriculum where smoke grenades were ever utilized.
“Haa… haa…”
The students watching from the sidelines had fallen entirely dead silent.
That instructor has completely lost his mind…
Deleve charging in recklessly was one thing, but what in the world was wrong with this instructor? There was no way he didn't know the weight of the name Kundel. What on earth could possess someone to ruthlessly smash a scion of one of the empire’s greatest noble houses into the ground like an old rag?
Could he… have powerful backing?
The merciless, unapologetic way he tossed around a son of House Kundel! He clearly possessed zero fear of a family that even tenured professors walked on eggshells around.
Is he backed by the Imperial Family…?
Or maybe another Great Family? House Rudbeckia? House Rihardt?
What was even more terrifying was that throughout the entire relentless barrage, Xiel had not taken a single step from the spot where he initially stood.
Thud! Slam!
Only Deleve kept throwing himself forward like a moth to a flame.
“How fascinating,” one of the students murmured.
Celia Rihardt watched the spectacle unfold, her crimson eyes alight with genuine intrigue.
So he isn’t just a pretty face after all, is he?
House Rihardt. Alongside Kundel, it stood as one of the most illustrious pillars of the empire. In terms of martial prodigies produced over the generations, it was widely acknowledged to have a slight edge over Kundel. Celia was the second daughter of that venerable house, heralded as a once-in-a-generation genius just like Deleve.
And from where Celia stood…
This instructor named Xiel Steelheart was turning out to be quite to her liking.
Should I… put him on the shortlist?
As a prime candidate for her personal escort knight, that was.
Crash!
Meanwhile, Deleve hit the deck yet again. He was neither critically wounded nor thoroughly battered; he had merely been tripped and pinned. Deleve had realized it partway through: the instructor was not attacking to inflict harm, but focusing entirely on throwing him off balance.
He’s toying with me.
There was no real physical trauma. Even crashing against the floor had yielded little actual pain. Yet the feeling of having his pride torn to shreds was agonizing.
“Damn it…!”
Thump!
Down he went again.
“Your counter is slow. Your field of view is too narrow. Pay more attention to your periphery.”
Yet strangely enough, Deleve found himself wanting to keep going. It was a bizarre sensation—almost as if, with every fall, he was visibly getting better.
“That attempt was not bad. However, you were still slow.”
“Haa… haa… What was slow about it?”
“Your right hand.”
Thud!
Down went Deleve once more.
“An attack will not always come from your right.”
Xiel had slipped in from his left flank this time.
“Nevertheless, that was your best form so far, Student Deleve Kundel.”
The instant those words left Xiel’s lips, Deleve simply flopped backward and stayed there, utterly drained of every last ounce of stamina.
Xiel looked down at the boy sprawled on the wooden floor and asked, “Do you understand now?”
“Haa… haa…”
Deleve could only draw ragged, shuddering breaths, lacking even the strength to form a reply.
“If you still do not grasp it, we will work toward understanding during our next class.”
Xiel glanced at the clock on the wall before turning his gaze back toward the rest of the lecture hall.
“We will conclude our first class here. By now, the rest of you should also recognize the importance of self-defense.”
Xiel was thoroughly satisfied. He felt he had demonstrated the concept with exceptional thoroughness.
“Next period, I intend to explain the theoretical fundamentals of self-defense, so be sure to bring your textbooks.”
With that, Xiel picked up his materials and strode out of the classroom.
Yet for a long time afterward, not a single student made a move to leave. That included Deleve, who remained flat on his back, staring blankly upward.
“L-Let’s go…”
“Is Deleve all right…?”
Kus was the only one brave enough to hurry forward and help Deleve sit up.
“D-Deleve. Are you okay?”
“……”
Deleve propped his upper body up, his gaze unfocused as he stared into empty space.
“Best form my foot…” he muttered hollowly.
His mind felt completely numb. The events of the past two hours replayed in an endless loop through his head. Yet strangely enough…
Why was it that he didn't feel angry?
“This is the first time in my life I’ve been thrown to the ground dozens of times…”
“I don’t think anyone in the world has experienced that, to be honest…” Kus whispered sympathetically.
“And yet… I don’t feel bad about it at all…”
It was a reaction completely unthinkable for a pampered young lord of high nobility.
“A-Are you sure you’re okay?”
Kus genuinely began to worry that being slammed into the floor so many times had rattled Deleve’s brain loose.
Slurp!
Peace and leisure filled Professor Elcanto’s private office.
Six o’clock in the evening. With all his lectures concluded for the day, this was the hour when Professor Elcanto returned to his sanctuary to savor a peaceful twilight. He did not eat dinner. His personal physician had sternly advised him to cut down his caloric intake as much as humanly possible.
I really have put on quite a bit of weight, he admitted to himself, taking another long sip of warm tea. It was the only way to suppress the gnawing pangs of hunger. Every now and then, his eyes wandered toward the ornate wooden chest where he kept a secret stash of snacks, but he resisted with heroic effort. He desperately longed to return to the sharp, chiseled jawline of his youth.
“Yes, the stress of the past few years simply caused me to gain a little weight, that’s all.”
The ruthless political machinations and petty power struggles he had endured just to secure a tenured professorship! It was a position he had bled to claim. How bitterly unfair it had felt to possess undeniable martial prowess, yet be passed over simply because he was not born of high nobility! But those miserable days had ended a few years ago. While he was still near the bottom of the tenured hierarchy, the hard part was over. Now, all that remained was to live a comfortable, stress-free life, doing whatever he pleased…
Knock, knock.
“Um, Professor Elcanto. It’s the teaching assistant.”
“Ah, yes. Come in.”
Elcanto poured another cup of tea—for himself, naturally, not the assistant.
“Well, what is it?” Elcanto asked, putting on his most genial, magnanimous smile.
However, the moment the assistant whispered his report, Elcanto shot out of his armchair.
“Wh-What did you say?!”
“Th-The thing is…”
“That damned, incompetent fool of an instructor…!”
Elcanto’s hands trembled violently, and his pudgy face flushed crimson with rage. The fury surging within him threatened to burst through his skull.
Three, two, one…
Counting down inwardly, the long-suffering assistant shut his eyes tight and clamped both hands over his ears.
“WHAT IN THE HELL DID HE JUST DOOOOOOOOOOO?!”
Shatter!
The delicate glass teacup on the desk detonated into shards, and spiderweb cracks instantly snaked across the panes of the display cabinets. It was a roar infused with pure mana—a Battle Roar, a martial art supposedly accessible only to those who had attained the rank of Great Knight. Why on earth such a legendary skill had to be unleashed during a petty office tantrum was a mystery for the ages.
The teaching assistant let out a weary sigh, already mentally tallying up the broken glassware and cracked windowpanes.
Looks like I’ll have to replace all of those again…
Three years into his assistantship, resignation was the only emotion he had left.
“How dare a mere contract instructor… lay a hand on House Kundel?!”
Panting heavily, Professor Elcanto whipped his head toward the assistant. “So you’re telling me that under the pretense of demonstrating self-defense, he repeatedly smashed Student Deleve Kundel into the floor?!”
“Yes, sir…”
“That raving lunatic…!”
Elcanto clenched his meaty fists until his knuckles turned white.
A single low-level instructor is going to ruin my entire life…!
House Kundel. House Rihardt. The scions of the empire’s supreme noble lineages were subjects of special, delicate care at Edelbein Academy. And why? Because a massive portion of the academy’s operating budget was funded entirely by exorbitant donations from those very households. Consequently, from the day those young nobles enrolled until the day they walked across the graduation stage, not the slightest incident was permitted to touch them.
And now, a catastrophic disaster had exploded right under his nose.
“Why… why on earth would he do that…?”
Whether in the Sword School or the Arcane School, elective general education courses were nothing more than meaningless filler designed to hand out easy credits. It was widely acknowledged that first-year students, who took almost exclusively electives, were essentially meant to relax, show their faces for attendance, and enjoy academy life. That was all Elcanto had wanted from the start. Just teach a few basic motions, award generous grades, and let the semester pass in quiet, lucrative serenity…
If House Kundel pulls their funding…
A nightmarish scenario played out in Elcanto’s mind. His thoughts raced at frantic speed.
“Right. Wh-What was his name again? Xie… Xie…”
“Xiel Steelheart, Professor.”
“Right! Where is that bastard right now?!”
“In the Faculty Cafeteria…”
With an alarming jiggle, Professor Elcanto lunged to his feet, his substantial belly swaying fiercely as he charged toward the door.
Clatter.
Having finished a thoroughly satisfying meal, Xiel set his fork down on the tray.
The Faculty Cafeteria. It was a place he found exceedingly agreeable. Above all, one was permitted to eat as much food as one desired.
“The food here is delicious.”
To Xiel, a proper meal was something deeply sacred. Long ago, as a starving street urchin, he had gone three whole days without a single scrap to eat. When a shadowy man promised him warm food, he had readily taken that hand—a choice that led him straight into the crucible of the assassination syndicate. Once he became an operative, the joy of eating had ceased to exist. Meals were reduced to the bare minimum required for high-intensity training—flavorless, nutrient-dense paste devoid of any culinary warmth.
Now, however, his mental conditioning had shattered, and his sense of self had returned. The deep-seated hunger of his childhood, buried for two decades, was finally being indulged.
“Excuse me, who is that man?”
“Has he really gone back for a fifth plate of dinner…?”
He was, admittedly, indulging it rather heavily.
“I like this place,” Xiel murmured softly.
As long as he followed Professor Elcanto’s advice and strictly adhered to standard protocol, he would be able to live comfortably in this safe haven filled with wonderful food.
“The first lecture concluded quite satisfactorily as well…”
The students had seemed exceptionally focused throughout the session. Not a single one of them had taken their eyes off him until the very end, which undoubtedly meant they had been completely immersed in his instruction.
“Becoming a tenured professor would be ideal.”
While brainwashed, dreaming of a new life had been an impossibility. But from the moment he reclaimed his own consciousness, Xiel had pursued a peaceful existence. It was safe here, his cover identity was pristine, and best of all, the food was exquisite. Teaching the class had even been somewhat enjoyable.
And there was one more thing.
“My face doesn’t feel suffocating.”
After being abducted into the syndicate, Xiel had never once walked beneath the open sky with his bare face exposed. From the day his rigorous training ended and he became an active assassin, every mission required the use of elaborate disguise masks. Walking about displaying his true visage was something he had not done since his days begging beneath bridges as a child.
“I should return to the quarters.”
Having a personal room to sleep in was another immense blessing. Because he had been thrust straight into teaching on his very first day, he hadn't yet had time to inspect his quarters, but the mere promise of a dedicated bed pleased him greatly.
While Xiel was absorbed in his thoughts and clearing his tray, a quiet presence slipped into the dining hall.
There he is.
A female student crept stealthily between the tables, closing the distance behind him. Just as she stepped into arm's reach and reached out to tap his shoulder—
“Student Celia Rihardt.”
Xiel turned his head calmly.
Celia froze on the spot, her hand hovering in midair.
“H-How did you know it was me?”
Identifying someone he had already observed was child’s play. In Celia’s case, it was even easier: the cadence of her footsteps and the faint scent of her distinctive perfume were more than enough.
“If you intend to sneak up on someone next time, employ a different method.”
Celia blinked in mild exasperation, but a playful smile quickly broke across her lips. “Wait… you remembered me? You only saw me once during class, didn’t you?”
I suppose I am rather unforgettable, aren’t I?
“You are my student.”
“……!”
My student.
The phrase made Celia’s heart skip a beat. To Xiel, it was nothing more than a literal statement of fact, and her face was not particularly remarkable to his practical sensibilities. But to Celia, it sounded entirely different.
“What business do you have with me?” Xiel asked. “Furthermore, this is a faculty-only dining hall. Students are prohibited from entering.”
“Oh, please. I’m a Rihardt.”
“Are you saying your family is you?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean that because I’m from House Rihardt…” She trailed off, realizing it was awkward to state the unspoken privilege aloud. “…Anyway, no one ever complains if I come in here.”
“Simply because you are a Rihardt?”
“Yes.”
Only then did Xiel nod in faint comprehension. “So access privileges here are determined by the fame of one’s lineage?”
Why is he so ridiculously stiff? Celia thought, slightly taken aback. Men like him were virtually nonexistent these days—and not in a good way, at least not within Edelbein Academy.
“It’s not strictly about that… but there’s such a thing as flexibility in this world, isn't there?”
“It deviates from standard protocol.”
“Does that really matter so much?”
“It matters. An academy operates under established rules.”
“You really are rigid, aren’t you? Ah, right, you asked why I came over. Well, um… I happened to be passing by and saw your face through the window?”
Xiel tilted his head quizzically. “For that to be true, you have been observing me for an excessively long time.” He checked the pocket watch at his vest and added, “Approximately thirty minutes have passed since I sat down to eat. Student Celia Rihardt, you have been tailing me for at least fifty minutes. Ever since I left the Abedardo Hall.”
“……”
Good heavens.
He had known the entire time?
A bright crimson flush immediately crept up the tips of Celia’s ears.
“Your ears are turning red,” Xiel observed flatly. “That is a physiological response typically associated with embarrassment.”
“N-No, it isn't! I'm not embarrassed at all!”
“Is that so? Then are you flustered?”
“……”
“It seems my statement was accurate.”
Even as mortification washed over her, Celia couldn't help but marvel inwardly.
He’s far sharper than I imagined…
At first, she had merely been drawn to his strikingly handsome features. But Celia was hardly the type of girl to trail a man based on looks alone. Good-looking men were a dime a dozen in high society—even if men as breathtaking as Xiel were exceedingly rare. No, the real reason she had followed him was far more pragmatic.
“How did you know I was following you?”
“You followed me quite boldly, making no effort whatsoever to conceal your presence.”
He was peerlessly handsome, effortlessly powerful enough to humble Deleve Kundel, and possessed the sharp observational instincts to detect her surveillance without breaking a sweat.
“Is that so?”
Celia proudly tilted her head, deliberately showing off her blushing ears as a smirk curled the corner of her lips. “Instructor. In that case…”
It was at that exact moment.
“XIEL STEELHEART!”
A furious, thunderous roar tore through the entrance of the Faculty Cafeteria, reverberating off the walls.