Gratitude
"Instructor Ziel, just head up along this path and check checkpoints C and D," Tyron said, handing over a map. Conveniently, the ascent route was clearly marked in red ink. "If you happen to find any dropouts, administer first aid immediately and have them wait on standby."
"I heard beasts will be deployed as the final obstacle. Will having them wait on-site be safe?"
"The handlers have them under strict control, so you don't need to worry."
With those parting words, Tyron and the other teaching assistant dispersed toward their assigned posts.
Ziel's role today was simple: climb toward the summit, treat any students who fell behind, and secure the situation. In plain terms, he was a safety marshal. More precisely, it was grunt work reserved for those who were not full professors. Although Ziel was officially in charge of an entire class year, the professors overseeing the other grades were already waiting comfortably at the peak—even Elcanto, the lowest-ranking among them.
Ziel, of course, had no complaints. He was simply doing what he was told to do.
He began his ascent.
It's been a while since I climbed a mountain.
Back in his days with the Organization, he had once been transported blindfolded to a nameless peak, where he spent an entire month fighting against wild beasts, venomous vermin, and biting cold, relentlessly scaling the summit day in and day out. While that was not the sole reason, mountains were familiar territory to him.
Mountains were treacherous places. The higher one climbed, the colder it became, even under the midday sun, and losing one's bearings was perilously easy. Dense foliage and rugged terrain obstructed visibility in every direction, making it impossible to predict what might happen, where, or when. In that sense, it was an ideal arena for a competition.
Ziel moved up the mountain several times faster than the teaching assistants. Yet his expression remained completely serene, his breathing steady without the slightest sign of strain.
"They fought here."
Before long, Ziel came upon the aftermath of a skirmish against the magic puppets. Battered constructs lay strewn across the ground amidst unmistakable traces of battle. After surveying the scene for a moment, he pieced together what had occurred.
Two destroyed in a single blow using Heavy Swordsmanship.
Deleb had likely teamed up with Ann to shatter one quickly before rushing to assist another group with the second. The deep, violently crushed indentations on the bodies of two puppets were proof enough. Another had been felled by Celia's Swift Sword Style. And yet another by...
"Student Yurio Harmatan."
It was unmistakably Yurio's swordplay. Ziel's deduction was flawless—in fact, he had reconstructed the skirmish in far greater detail than any of the spectators watching the scrying screens from the summit could have managed.
There was, however, one anomaly.
Two felled by Deleb's heavy blade. One by Celia's swift thrusts. Another by Yurio's technique.
"The last one is missing."
He had been told there were five puppets in total. Had the students abandoned the final one to prioritize speed? Point D, which the first-years had chosen, was the steepest and most grueling route. Abandoning a target to save time was a plausible tactical choice under normal circumstances, but not for the first-years he had trained. Given the flow of combat, it was far more likely they had pooled their strength to finish off the straggler before moving forward.
Most tellingly, the scattered wreckage—broken plating and severed limbs—accounted for parts belonging to five distinct constructs.
"Over here."
Scanning the surrounding terrain, Ziel spotted a trail. Magic puppets were considerably heavier than humans, far exceeding the weight of an average adult male. The deep, distinct tread marks left in the soil proved it. Yet strangely, those footprints did not lead up the mountain; they trailed off toward the flank.
Following the trail, Ziel discovered a second set of prints. This time, they were human.
The tread pattern was completely different from those left by the ten students. In fact, the impressions were so faint that anyone without Ziel's keen eye would have overlooked them entirely.
"Stealth footwork?"
Assassins and operatives of the underworld wore specialized boots and honed unique gaits specifically to minimize tracks. Ziel quickly synthesized the evidence.
The ten first-years had destroyed all five puppets before resuming their climb. But for some reason, one of the downed constructs had been reactivated, accompanied by an operative who practiced stealth footwork. And then—
"It went back up."
The construct had resumed its pursuit of the students. As far as Ziel knew, the only academy personnel deployed on the mountain were the two teaching assistants and himself.
The conclusion was obvious.
An intruder has infiltrated the grounds.
A suspicious trail. A reactivated magic puppet. Ziel broke into a jog, tracking the construct's path up the slopes.
Then, his gaze sharpened.
Points C and E?
He found two more sets of mechanical tracks merging in from the left and right slopes. They were unmistakably the strides of magic puppets. Even if lingering constructs were programmed to track lagging students, they were supposed to remain within their designated course zones. Yet two puppets had clearly abandoned their posts to converge on this path.
Right now, three magic puppets were advancing on the first-years.
The students are in danger.
Ziel stopped jogging.
Tap.
A legendary assassin vanished into the mountain trees at terrifying speed.
"What's going on? Why did the screen go dark?"
"Hey, we can't see anything!"
Around that time, a minor commotion broke out atop the summit. The mana projection feeds displaying the students' progress had suddenly flickered out. It was right when every class year was clearing the magic puppets and preparing to face the next obstacle.
"Of all the times to lose the feed, it has to be now."
"They boasted so loudly, but it seems their magiteck isn't quite up to the task after all, haha."
The thankless duty of placating the crowd naturally fell to the lowest-ranking professor present: Elcanto.
"Honored guests, we are currently investigating the cause and working to restore the connection, so please bear with us for just a moment!"
Elcanto was just as bewildered as the rest of them. Why had the feeds suddenly cut out when they were working perfectly fine a moment ago?
We need to fix this, fast!
This was an unprecedented Exchange Event, attended by numerous noble house heads. A technical disaster at a venue where complaints had to be avoided at all costs was a nightmare. To make matters worse, all the teaching assistants were out scouring the mountain, forcing Elcanto to run around personally.
"What happened here?" he demanded, rushing over to the projection team.
"We don't know either! The calibration was flawless, and there shouldn't be any issue whatsoever."
This was precisely why he despised mages. Even if you held a blade to their throats, they would swear until their dying breath that they were blameless.
Can't you at least pretend to investigate?!
Still, he couldn't openly lose his temper at a mage dispatched from the Arcane School. If he slipped up and the Arcane School launched an official complaint, the fallout would be disastrous.
"Is there really no way to check? The family heads are going to riot at this rate!"
"Look, the cause is completely unknown, so what do you expect us to do? Go down and look yourself if you're so worried. We broke our backs installing this array just because you asked for it..."
Anyone listening would think they had done it out of charity rather than for a hefty sum of coin. Elcanto clutched his throbbing temples.
"Please, just run a diagnostics check. If this blows up, we're all in serious trouble. I'm begging you here."
Such was the sorrow of being the junior professor.
Instructor Ziel should have been the one stuck up here dealing with this...
Swallowing a heavy sigh, Elcanto hurried over to Department Head Berhal. "Department Head, the Arcane School staff are looking into it, but they claim they have no idea what caused the blackout..."
Elcanto's voice trailed off. Berhal's expression was grim. The mage standing beside him looked equally pale.
A mage? Why is one of them standing with the department head?
"Professor Elcanto," Berhal said, his tone dead serious. "You need to head down the mountain immediately."
"Pardon? What do you mean, all of a sudden...?"
The mage beside Berhal offered a strained, grim explanation. "Three of the twenty-five magic puppets deployed on the courses have slipped out of our control."
"Slipped... out of control?"
"One construct each from checkpoints C, D, and E. Something like this has never happened before..."
Berhal nodded firmly. "Go at once, Professor Elcanto. Two assistants and Instructor Ziel are on the mountain, but they're ascending from the base and will be too late. The academy guards have already been dispatched. Your top priority is protecting the students."
"U-Understood!" Elcanto stammered, nodding frantically. Wait, where did I leave my sword? It had been so many years since he last drew steel in actual combat that the memory felt hazy.
"What are you waiting for? Time is of the essence!"
"Right! I-I'm going!"
Elcanto scrambled down the summit trail in a panic. Fortunately, the guests still seemed largely unaware of the true crisis.
"When is it coming back online?"
"Why hasn't Lady Rihart's broadcast been restored yet?!"
It was better that they remained in the dark, at least until Elcanto assessed and resolved the situation.
Berhal turned his gaze to the dispatched mage. "Are mana communications down as well?"
"F-For the time being, yes. I have no idea how this could have happened..."
The visual feeds were severed, the magic puppets were running amok, and their sole method of contact—mana communication—was completely dead.
"If those constructs cause any harm... the blame will naturally fall entirely upon the Arcane School," Berhal said, his voice dropping into a chilling register. "You had better pray this ends without incident."
"..."
The mage choked back his breath, utterly unable to reply. The man standing before him was not an insecure junior like Elcanto. This was Berhal Abue, a former Imperial Knight whose renown forced even the most arrogant high mages to bow their heads.
"I-I understand. We will do everything within our power. As for the projection screens..."
"Leave them off for now."
"Excuse me?"
"I said leave them."
The title of Imperial Knight was not earned through martial prowess alone. It required sharp political acumen.
We cannot allow the house heads to witness rogue constructs attacking their heirs.
Pin the blame on the Arcane School behind closed doors, but keep their own vulnerabilities hidden from the public eye. That was Berhal's calculated judgment.
Still... I wonder if Professor Elcanto will manage.
Berhal watched the stout man waddle frantically down the mountain, rolls of excess weight bouncing with every hurried step. He genuinely wondered if the man's knees would survive the descent.
And just as Berhal feared—
Aaargh, my knees!
Elcanto's joints creaked in agony. With every downhill stride, the brutal impact traveled straight through his bones. He was already wheezing for breath. This was the price he paid for abandoning martial training the moment he secured his professorship, betting everything on academy politics and sycophancy instead. A morbidly obese Sword School professor—that was who Elcanto was.
"Haa... haa..."
Yet he could not stop. It was not merely fear of Berhal's wrath that drove him forward.
Magic puppets. Depending on their calibration, their pure swordsmanship could rival even Great Knights. Of course, pre-programmed forms alone could never truly defeat a seasoned master, but they were still far too dangerous for academy students to handle. If those constructs possessed higher cognitive faculties and were cheaper to produce, the Valdrain Empire might well have conquered the continent by now.
Faster!
Wheezing violently, Elcanto threw his weight forward. A single misstep would send his massive frame tumbling down the rocky slope. But coward though he was, Elcanto was still a professor. The thought of his students in danger filled him with genuine dread.
"Huff... huff..."
Finally, figures came into view below. The first-years, entirely unaware of the looming catastrophe, were diligently climbing the path.
"Huh? Professor?" Quantus, marching at the front of the group, spotted Elcanto barreling toward them and raised a hand in greeting.
At that exact moment—
"GET DOWN!"
Three magic puppets ambushed them from the thickets simultaneously.
Elcanto hurled himself forward in a desperate leap. And the instant he hit the ground—
"Uh."
"Oh."
"G-Gasp..."
A sickening, wet crunch echoed through the clearing.
Celia instinctively slapped both hands over her mouth. "The professor's ankle..."
"Did it just snap?!"
Elcanto's ankle had taken the full, brutal brunt of his immense falling weight.
Damn it all, my ankle is gone!
Elcanto bitterly cursed his attempt at a heroic entrance. But he had no regrets about his timing.
Shring!
His blade cleared its scabbard in a flash of silver, violently parrying the construct's sword an inch before it cleaved into Quantus. In the next breath, he twisted to block another blade aimed at Ann. The sheer force behind the impact sent a jolt of shock through his wrists.
This is wrong. This isn't something students can fight!
His physique might have deteriorated, but his sharp eye and veteran instincts as a former Great Knight had not vanished. The raw power vibrating through his steel, the cold precision with which the construct instantly disengaged and reset its stance for another strike—it was terrifyingly lethal.
CLANG!
"Urgh!"
There was no doubt about it. These constructs had completely broken their control limiters. They were no longer training tools meant for a student competition.
"All of you, fall back!" Elcanto roared, engaging all three constructs at once.
"P-Professor! We can help—"
"You can't handle these things! Get to the summit, now!"
Clang! Cl-clang!
Elcanto desperately batted away a flurry of lethal thrusts. It's broken, it's really broken, damn it! His sprained ankle screamed in agony with every shift in footwork. But he couldn't afford to make excuses. These rogue puppets would butcher the freshmen in seconds.
I have to hold the line!
Yet the relentless offensive pushed him back step by step.
"Professor!"
"We're outmatched, Deleb! We have to go!" Ann shouted, physically hauling Deleb back. Celia looked ready to draw her sword and charge into the fray, but Yurio grabbed her shoulder from behind.
"You can't, Celia!"
Though every instinct urged them to fight alongside their teacher, they knew the bitter truth. Their professor was being overwhelmed. Elcanto was a man who had once carried renown even among Great Knights. If a warrior of his caliber was being pushed to the brink, fledglings like them would only get in the way!
Has a sword always felt this heavy?
Though he held the title of Great Knight, Elcanto had not fought a serious duel in five years. A blade he could once swing effortlessly with one hand now felt agonizingly heavy even with both hands gripping the hilt.
"Listen to the professor!" Quantus bellowed, taking command. "Move out!"
"B-But Quantus!"
"The professor gave an order! Move!"
Rallied by Quantus's roar, the students reluctantly pushed past the skirmish and sprinted up the trail.
Good boy, Quantus...
A stubborn, reliable lad who knew how to follow orders. When Ziel first appointed Quantus as squad leader, Elcanto had privately questioned the decision, but now he saw it was brilliant.
Suddenly, the situation deteriorated.
"No, you don't!"
One of the puppets broke away, turning to pursue the fleeing students. Elcanto desperately deflected an incoming blade and lunged forward to intercept it.
Please, reach!
At that exact moment, the remaining two constructs stepped in to cut him off, raising their broadswords in unison. He saw the lethal cross-slash descending. But his battered, overweight body refused to move in time.
A cold dread washed over him.
Is this... the end?
Just then, a slender silhouette slipped between Elcanto and the descending blades.
CLANG!
Both heavy broadswords bounced violently backward. Shockingly, the weapon that had parried the two full-sized swords was a dagger less than half their length.
"You arrived ahead of me, Professor."
It was a calm, familiar voice.
"Instructor Ziel...?"
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, a hot lump rose in Elcanto's throat.
"Thank you for protecting my students."
Ziel's words carried quiet, heartfelt sincerity. Elcanto could only nod dumbly, an overwhelming wave of relief crashing over him.
That relief, however, shattered into sheer astonishment an instant later.
Thwip.
Elcanto didn't even see the attack.
It happened in less than a heartbeat.
Thud!
Several yards ahead, the magic puppet pursuing the students crashed face-first into the dirt, entirely lifeless. A single dagger was buried hilt-deep between its shoulder plates.
What... what was that just now?
Elcanto's jaw dropped in absolute disbelief.