You'll Know When You See It
After the anesthesia took hold, the surgery began in earnest.
So, the Velberg's Wing really was that precious of an item.
During his days as an assassin, Ziel had transported the ingredient a handful of times, and he had handled it far more often than that. Of course, under the fog of brainwashing back then, he had never spared a thought for its worldly value. The encounter from earlier had simply left a sharp impression.
They seemed desperate for it.
Their approach had been entirely wrong, naturally. Even had they asked with the utmost courtesy, Ziel had no intention of parting with the wing. Still, one deduction was clear.
High society.
In common parlance, people of high birth. He had sensed it from the moment they crossed paths in the Black Market. One man carried the pungent, expensive cologne favored exclusively by the wealthy. The others reeked of armor grease, weapon oil, and the faint, metallic tang of cold steel. To senses honed to razor sharpness, the signs were unmistakable.
Will they pursue me?
He felt no regret. It was all for the sake of his student. Nor did he feel any particular urge to run away in panic. There were countless ways to evade pursuit and blend into the shadows—all while keeping his civilian cover perfectly intact.
As long as the operation succeeds, that's all that matters.
Had he cared about the risks, he never would have stepped outside in the first place. What mattered right now was Yurio's condition ahead of the Exchange Event. In that frail state, even if the boy somehow scraped through the matches, his body wouldn't endure for long. During every training session, even after the breathing technique had been adjusted, Yurio's heart rate had begun creeping up again. Modifying his breathing had finally reached its physical limit. The root illness had to be purged for the technique to bear lasting fruit.
It should be finishing up soon.
Barring any unforeseen complications inside, the procedure itself would conclude smoothly. Forcibly rewiring a portion of the boy's metabolism would put a strain on his constitution, but compared to what he stood to gain, it was a trivial price to pay. And as for the other price, that had already been settled in solid silver.
Besides, the doctor was trustworthy enough. Ziel had availed himself of the man's services during missions in the past.
Click.
A short while later, the operating room door swung open.
"The procedure went swimmingly, sir."
"Is that so?"
"Confirmed that there are no abnormalities around the heart. However, the surrounding muscle is severely weakened, so blood will need to circulate through it for a while before it regains proper strength. It would be best if he avoids straining himself for a day or two. Ah, and I also performed a physical procedure on the heart itself. Hemostasis and suturing were flawless, so you can rest easy on that front."
As expected, the surgery was impeccable. Even without stepping inside to check, the boy's breathing filtering through the doorway sounded remarkably stable.
"Though truly, the most flawless part was that poison blend," the doctor remarked, shaking his head in admiration. "How on earth did you formulate it with such delicate precision...?"
"It was a simple task."
Normally, people feigned modesty in moments like this, but this man possessed not a single shred of it. Strangely enough, it didn't come across as offensive. If anything, it lent him the aura of a true master. And frankly, it was nothing short of the truth. No matter how peerless a surgeon's hands might be, the metabolic alteration depended entirely upon the exact composition of the medicinal concoction.
Incredible. Just who is this man?
The doctor had assumed he knew practically every notable figure in the underworld. Yet once again, the world proved vast, teeming with hidden masters.
"Even so, you have my thanks," Ziel said.
"Think nothing of it. It's been quite a while since I had the chance to flex my skills. Ah, by the way... have we met somewhere before?"
At the doctor's inquiry, Ziel gave a slight nod.
"We have."
"I knew it! My memory must be slipping."
"Do I look familiar?"
"Well, more to the point, you navigated your way down here with far too much ease."
"That is true."
Ziel retrieved four silver coins and held them out.
"The remainder."
"Oh my, thank you, sir! To give so generously..."
"I understand it was a difficult operation."
"Only made possible by your extraordinary formulation, of course."
"Is that so?"
Ziel's hand casually swept two of the silver coins back into his palm.
"...Pardon?"
"Did you not just say it was thanks to my formulation?"
"Well... technically speaking, yes, but..."
"Then I performed half the work."
"......"
The logic was so utterly absurd that the doctor found himself struck dumb, unable to formulate a rebuttal. Has this man never heard of polite flattery? Still, it wasn't as though he had grounds to argue. One coin upfront. One coin for discretion. And two more as the balance. Earning four silver coins in a single sitting was rare enough in this line of work. He was already a magnificent patron.
If only he hadn't snatched those two coins back, he would have been absolute perfection...
"It was a joke."
"...What?"
"Is this not how one is supposed to deliver it?" Ziel said, returning the two coins to the flabbergasted surgeon. "A certain book mentioned it. 'If you act as though you will withhold something and then reveal it was a jest, people will be delighted.'"
"Uh..."
For some reason, the heavy atmosphere demanded that he show delight.
"Ha, ha ha ha! Brilliant! That's wonderful!"
"Good. It pleases me to see you enjoy this sort of humor."
The doctor silently rescinded his earlier assessment. This wasn't a magnificent patron; he was just an eccentric madman. And for the sake of his own longevity, he swore never to utter a single syllable about this patron to another living soul. The man wasn't just terrifying—he was completely unhinged.
"I ought to read more books," Ziel murmured.
Just what kind of book was he reading? the doctor thought, sweating profusely. I pray to the heavens the Imperial Palace bans it from print.
A short while later.
"...Ugh."
Yurio stirred, groaning softly as consciousness returned. Ziel stepped closer to the bedside.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes, a little..."
"It will hurt for a day or two. Endure it."
"Yes, sir..."
To tell someone waking from major surgery to simply suck it up and bear the pain—it was quintessential Ziel. Yet despite the lingering throb in his chest, Yurio's breathing felt astonishingly smooth, his entire body refreshed in a way he had never experienced before.
"The surgeon reports that the operation was a success."
"R-Really?"
"Yes. You will be fine now."
Tears welled in Yurio's eyes. This was the curse that had tormented him for his entire life, draining his family's fortune on countless renowned physicians and high priests to no avail. And now, as if washed clean by rain, it was gone.
"Thank you... Thank you so very much, Teacher..."
All those wasted years and squandered fortunes felt utterly hollow in comparison to what Ziel had accomplished in a single afternoon. Yurio's awe toward his instructor deepened beyond measure. Any lingering doubts or questions had vanished, replaced solely by reverent wonder.
He truly is... an incredible person.
Yet his instincts whispered a quiet warning: Do not pry too deeply into who he was.
"I will make sure to tell my father everything," Yurio sniffled.
"As you should. Overcoming an illness is a joyous occasion."
Yurio had meant that he would inform his father so their family could properly repay the immense debt of gratitude, but Ziel took the words at face value. Is he brushing it off because he's a teacher? Even so, Yurio resolved to find a way to repay him. That was the basic decency of a human being. His house might have emptied its coffers to fund his medical treatments and academy tuition, but a debt like this could never be left unpaid.
At the same time, a tender warmth swelled in his chest. Why would the instructor go to such lengths for him? No matter how dutiful a teacher might be, this went far beyond ordinary guidance.
They say a mentor's grace is as boundless as the sky...
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Yurio pushed himself up from the cot.
"Are you well enough?"
"Yes. I can move."
Truly the handiwork of a master. To be mobile right after such an extensive procedure was remarkable.
Leaving it to him was the right decision.
With the illness cured, the remaining objective was crystal clear: the Exchange Event.
"We are returning now."
It was time to head back to the academy.
Preparations for the Exchange Event were in full swing across the Sword School.
With only five days remaining until the competition, every grade level threw itself into rigorous practice. Among them, the first-year representatives gathered in the training hall, nerves drawn taut before the day's session.
"Did he say we're doing sparring today?"
"I think that's what he said."
"So we aren't fighting Teacher Ziel anymore?"
"Choose your words carefully, Anne," someone chimed in. "We weren't fighting him. He was graciously indulging us."
The past several days had been sheer hell. Not a single student had managed to land a clean blow on Ziel. He evaded virtually everything with effortless ease, and whenever someone seemed poised to graze him, he deflected the strike without breaking a sweat. Somewhere along the line, landing a single hit on Ziel had become an obsession for several of them.
"I was so damn close, too..."
That student was Deleve. To him, Ziel was both an object of profound respect and a towering wall he desperately wanted to overcome. The only problem was that the wall was high—impossibly high.
"Oh, there's Yurio!" Celia called out, waving her hand. "Yurio! Over here!"
Deleve's brow furrowed at the sight.
"Since when did you two get so close?"
"We're competing in the Exchange Event together. Why wouldn't we be close?"
Celia had clearly developed a strong impression of Yurio during the selection trials, and Deleve found himself intensely irritated by her sudden friendliness.
What's with her all of a sudden? And where was he the past two days anyway?
Yurio had been absent from training for the last forty-eight hours. The instructor had claimed it was due to personal matters. Considering the boy already lacked physical stamina, had he been receiving special private tutoring or something?
"Yurio, it's been two days!"
"C-Celia. Hello."
Yurio greeted her with awkward hesitation. Celia was the kind of person most male students found intimidating to approach. Even upperclassmen who made a habit of hitting on incoming freshmen never dared utter a word to her. For Celia to initiate a conversation was practically unheard of.
"Did something happen?" she asked.
"N-Not really... I was just feeling a bit unwell."
"Unwell? Was it bad? Are you feeling all right now?"
Watching Celia fuss over him with genuine concern made Deleve scoff in disbelief.
"Hey, Yurio. If you missed two days, you need to work twice as hard to make up for it. Don't you think?"
Celia snapped her head around and glared daggers at him.
"Listen to him talk. Why don't you worry about your own training?"
"Hey, I was just saying—"
"What, are you jealous? Hmm?"
Her mischievous streak flared to life, and Deleve took the bait hook, line, and sinker.
"What kind of nonsense is that—"
"I knew it. You're totally jealous."
"Bullshit! Of who? You?!"
"Oh my, listen to the language. Look at him! I told you he's jealous!"
Yurio quietly slipped away from the childhood friends' bickering. While it was flattering that Celia had spoken to him, he had zero desire to get caught in their crossfire.
"Hey, Karen."
"Yurio! Disappearing out of nowhere for two whole days!"
"Things just came up."
Even Karen, who stuck to him like glue, hadn't seen him over the weekend. Yurio had holed up in his dormitory room, focusing entirely on resting and letting his body mend. Thanks to that, he felt in peak condition.
I have to keep this secret from Karen, too.
The fact that Ziel had cured his illness was an absolute secret, one he intended to take to his grave. He would find an excuse to explain his recovery later when the time was right.
"Wait... you look really healthy today, don't you?" Karen asked, tilting her head.
"Do I?"
"Yeah. You look totally different from usual. Did you get an insane amount of rest?"
"I'm glad it shows."
His condition was truly immaculate—so much so that he surprised himself.
"Has everyone gathered?"
Right on cue, Ziel walked into the training hall.
"The instructor's here. Hey, Celia, we'll settle this later, got it?"
"Get lost, Deleve."
Ziel glanced toward Yurio and gave an imperceptible nod.
He has recovered.
The boy's breathing was stable, his pulse regular, and above all, his complexion was flushed with vitality. In this condition, he should have no trouble handling today's regimen.
"Today's training will be group sparring to prepare for the Melee Match."
Group sparring!
At last, the true preparation for the Exchange Event had begun. Until now, the training had felt more like preparation for an individual duel rather than a team bout, focusing on honing their raw individual capabilities. While they had learned some coordination by attacking the same target together, this was the real deal.
We're finally doing actual teamwork?
There are only five days left... will this be enough?
The realization that they were entering the final phase sent a ripple of anticipation through the students.
"I have organized the groups at my discretion. Check the roster."
"What was the criterion, Teacher?"
"Complementarity." Ziel elaborated calmly. "Going forward, you will move together in the Melee, but whenever you attack or defend, you must operate strictly in the pairs assigned to you."
Rather than charging in as an unruly mob, they were to act in coordinated pairs to maximize efficiency.
Looking at the slate, Deleve found his name paired with Anne.
Ah.
He understood immediately. His swordsmanship was destructive, but somewhat deliberate in tempo. Anne's technique, while not quite matching Celia's blinding speed, was remarkably swift and precise.
So this is how we cover each other's weaknesses.
And Yurio, surprisingly enough, was paired with Celia.
"Looking forward to working with you, Yurio!"
"Y-Yeah, Celia. Likewise."
She was difficult to deal with—not simply because she was stunningly beautiful, but because she was a Rihardt.
Interacting with high nobility never gets easier.
Having grown up watching his father constantly bow his head before great lords, the ingrained deference was not something he could shake off overnight.
"Relax, relax! We're in the same grade, aren't we?"
"Well, that's true, but..."
"Besides, I think you're plenty amazing."
Even as she spoke, Celia's eyes drifted toward Deleve, offering him a smug, teasing grin.
That little...!
Refusing to be outdone, Deleve turned to Anne and extended his hand.
"Let's do our best, Anne."
"O-Oh, sure!"
Anne took his hand quickly, her cheeks dusting with a faint pink hue.
"Look at them, what a joke," Karen muttered under her breath, letting out a disgusted sigh as she watched both pairs.
I wish I were on Yurio's team.
Karen was just as jealous as Deleve, but with Celia as the partner, there was little she could say or do.
"Karen, looking forward to working with you!"
"Ah. Quantus. Yeah."
Well, at least she was paired with this mountain of muscle. In terms of brute force, they certainly wouldn't be pushed around.
"We will now begin team sparring. Each pair will rotate, and after every match, you are to analyze your performance and report your findings to me."
The first matchup: Deleve and Anne versus Celia and Yurio.
Neither pair had ever coordinated in combat before. Yet looking at the pairings, something felt distinctly off. The matchup seemed completely lopsided.
Even with Celia on that team... putting them against Deleve?
Though Deleve and Celia constantly fought for first and second place, everyone knew Deleve held a paper-thin advantage in raw combat power. And paired with Deleve was Anne, one of the top swordsmen behind the leading duo.
Even if Celia was formidable, her partner was Yurio. He had missed two entire days of training, and his baseline stamina ranked dead last among the representatives. His talent was undeniable, but throughout their training, an unspoken hierarchy of ability had naturally established itself.
"Um, Teacher? Is this matchup really all right?"
It was Karen, worried sick about Yurio, who voiced the concern.
"Is there a problem, Student Karen Aswan?"
"Well, it's just... the balance seems..."
"You mean to say Student Yurio Harmatan's skill is lacking."
The blunt, unvarnished statement made Karen flush red. Everyone had thought it, but only Karen had the courage to bring it up—precisely because she cared for her friend.
Is he just testing them out because he's the instructor?
Just as that thought crossed their minds, Ziel delivered an assessment nobody saw coming.
"The strength of both teams is virtually equal."
The students blinked in confusion as Ziel continued in his flat, impassive tone.
"In fact, there is a very high probability that Student Deleve Kundel and Student Anne Peshua's team will lose."
"...What?"
"You'll know when you see it."
Ziel's voice was as deadpan as ever, yet beneath the calm delivery lay an unshakable, terrifying conviction.