Ziel, Master of Negotiation (Part 2)
Following the conclusion of the Exchange Event, Ziel’s daily routine changed overnight into a whirlwind of activity.
Class preparations, drafting the Exchange Event reports... There is quite a lot to do. And plenty of parent-teacher conferences, too.
Unless they were nobles residing in the imperial capital, visiting the academy in person for conferences after sending off their children was no easy task. Most dispatched representatives or exchanged brief correspondences. Moreover, even when family heads traveled to the capital for the Exchange Event, they usually only deigned to consult with full professors. This time, however, circumstances were markedly different.
"Well now, Instructor Ziel! It is an honor to meet you at last. I have heard so much about you."
Ziel’s stature had completely eclipsed that of the regular professors. It was only natural, considering he had led a cohort of first-year students to second place overall.
"Ah, Instructor Ziel, I must ask you to look after my child. She is naturally so gentle and sweet-natured, you see..."
"Student Anne Peshua is neither gentle nor sweet-natured."
"Pardon? Instructor, what on earth do you mean by—"
"Rather than gentle and sweet, she is assertive in expressing her opinions and says whatever needs to be said when necessary."
"Excuse me?"
The head of House Peshua, who had been on the verge of flaring up in indignation, froze in surprise.
"My daughter? Anne?"
"Indeed. It seems you do not know your daughter very well."
"Th-that cannot be. At home, she is so very quiet and demure... S-so then? Is there a problem?"
"There is no problem. I merely corrected a factual inaccuracy."
"I... I see. Yes. Thank you. Whew, at least it isn't anything bad... But truly, you wouldn't believe how much my daughter praises you! She goes on and on about what a brilliant teacher you are..."
"Yes, I am quite good at it."
"..."
Today alone was packed with five separate parent-teacher consultations. Next in line after the head of House Peshua was the patriarch of House Hophel.
"Bwahaha! My boy takes after me, you know—sharp as a tack!"
"If by 'sharp' you are referring to his academic achievement, that is not the case."
"...What did you just say?"
A hulking frame easily one and a half times the size of Quantus bristled with tension, but Ziel calmly continued before the man could erupt.
"However, he is sharp in other ways. He possesses remarkable drive and aggressive momentum. At the very least, whenever a charge is required, he shines brighter than anyone else."
"So that means he's clever, doesn't it?"
"In that specific regard, yes."
"Haha! I knew it! Takes right after his old man, clever to the bone!"
All was well that ended well. Ziel intended to add another clarifying remark, but his voice was thoroughly drowned out by the boisterous laughter.
"And listen here, clever though he may be, that lad has a soft heart deep down, so look after him well, will you? Big as an ox, sure, but he's still just a boy!"
"Understood. I will keep that in mind."
"Mhm, much obliged! You wouldn't believe the praise my boy heaps on you, Instructor Ziel! Says you teach like nobody's business!"
"Yes, I am quite good at it."
"..."
While some parents departed on pleasant terms, there were, of course, exceptions.
"Please accept this token of my appreciation, Instructor."
Thud.
A heavy pouch was set onto the desk.
"I am aware my boy caused a bit of trouble recently. It must have cost you quite an effort to clean up the mess... Consider this compensation for your trouble. I would be grateful if you accepted it."
The head of House Sophen, Olton Sophen, sat with his arms crossed, one leg draped over the other as his foot bobbed lazily.
"If it proves insufficient, you need only name your price. It is not as though I lack the means to look after my own son's teacher."
Ziel studied the man's smirking lips for a quiet beat before answering.
"It does appear to be insufficient."
"Ah. I hardly expected you to be so frank. Well, a man who knows his own mind makes business that much easier."
Olton was already reaching into his coat for another pouch when Ziel spoke again.
"Lord Olton Sophen, this is an official parent-teacher consultation."
"Ah." Sophen gave a knowing nod. Wants to keep up appearances, does he? Fine, once we're done here... "Understood. Since you say it is insufficient, I will ensure you are well satisfied later—"
"It is your attitude that appears insufficient."
"...What did you just say?"
"As I stated, this is an official parent-teacher consultation." Ziel regarded him evenly, adding, "Student Maris Sophen committed two minor infractions against academy regulations, but he is currently striving to improve on his own initiative."
To Olton’s ears, the words sounded like a blatant indictment: The boy is trying his best, so what on earth are you doing as his parent?
This insolent little bastard of a teacher... How dare he lecture me on attitude?
"Furthermore, pursuant to academy regulations, I do not accept remuneration of any kind from students or their guardians." Ziel asked, "Do you have any further inquiries regarding Student Maris Sophen?"
"...None."
"Then this concludes our consultation, Lord Olton Sophen."
House Steelheart? No, worse than that—a mere elective lecturer putting on airs!
Olton pushed his chair back with a grating screech and rose violently to his feet.
"I will remember this day."
Beneath the barely suppressed fury of the threat, Ziel’s voice remained entirely flat.
"In that case, I will dispatch a written summary of this consultation by letter so that you may remember it more easily."
It was a gesture of consideration on Ziel's part, but for Olton, it was the spark that detonated the powder keg.
"You little—!"
"Our consultation has concluded. You may see yourself out."
You brazen cur!
Right at that moment—
Knock, knock.
A teaching assistant’s voice filtered through the door.
"Instructor Ziel? Lord Amos Kundel has arrived to see you."
At the name Kundel, Olton clamped his mouth shut and cleared his throat in a hurry. "Ahem. Hrmph."
Yanking the door open, he was greeted by the sight of Amos Kundel in the hallway, and an ingratiating smile instantly spread across his face.
"Well met, my lord! To think we would cross paths here. I had no idea you were next in line."
"Ah. Hrm. Lord Olton Sophen, it has been some time."
Amos’s expression remained indifferent. It wasn't that he bore any ill will toward House Sophen; rather, his mind was utterly consumed by a single thought: Should I raise my offer higher?
He was entirely preoccupied with how to recruit Ziel.
"My lord, since you are next, permit me a brief word of caution. You see, that instructor in there—"
"Ah, forgive me, but I am pressed for time."
"Pardon?"
"It is my turn for the consultation, after all."
Brushing past Olton without a second glance, Amos stepped inside and took the seat across from Ziel.
"Instructor Ziel, this marks our second meeting."
"Yes. Our second."
"I have come today for no other reason than—" Amos paused mid-sentence and glanced back over his shoulder at Olton. "Do you intend to linger there?"
"..."
It was a blunt dismissal. In the end, Olton was left standing outside in the corridor, staring blankly as his hands trembled with rage.
"Haha, Instructor, meeting twice like this is rather embarrassing. You see, regarding my boy today..."
The warm, respectful voice drifted out just before the door clicked shut.
Olton realized with stinging clarity that to a man like Amos, he didn't even exist.
Meanwhile, inside the office, the conversation proceeded in earnest.
"I spoke with my youngest after our last consultation, and he was singing your praises once again. He told me you provided invaluable guidance that allowed him to comprehend the Seventh Form of Heavy Swordsmanship."
"I did nothing of the sort."
Ziel genuinely believed that. When the boy had asked him about the sword style, Ziel had merely remarked that 'it was just swordsmanship.' He did not consider that helpful in the slightest.
"My, how humble of you. Haha."
To Amos’s eyes, however, it only made Ziel appear all the more admirable.
"In any case... that brings me to what I wished to discuss today. It concerns my youngest, in a manner of speaking."
"Do you have further matters to discuss regarding his schooling?"
Playing dumb, are we? As if you don't know I'm competing against the other offers.
"Allow me to add to my previous proposal, Instructor. I will lease an estate to you. It sits on prime land in the south, remarkably vast in scale. There happens to be a vacant manor there, so you may live in absolute comfort. We shall provide all the domestic staff as well."
Amos felt certain this would be enough. But...
"You are making an offer quite similar to Lord Darren Rihardt's."
"Wh-what did you say?"
"Lord Darren Rihardt also initially proposed leasing an estate."
To Amos's ears, it sounded like: Darren offered that long ago, and you're only matching it now?
Ziel added another flat remark.
"As I stated previously, I decline the offer."
To Amos, that translated to: Bring better terms to the table, damn it.
Truthfully, the offer was already somewhat excessive. No matter how exceptional Ziel's pedagogical talent was, offering such staggering conditions just to retain a single teacher bordered on madness. Yet Darren—the man Amos despised above all others—and even the Second Prince had entered this recruitment war.
There is no backing down now.
"Then tell me, Instructor: what terms do you desire?"
Offer whatever the other party wants most. In the end, that was the only way.
Yet the reply that fell from Ziel’s lips defied all expectations.
"I have no interest."
And with that, the day's parent-teacher consultations drew to a close.
Dietrich Valdrain could not make sense of it.
Granted, a man had the right to refuse what he did not want, but to reject an offer from the Imperial Family itself? When a guaranteed path to prestige and glory lay right before his eyes?
"Could he be a talent my elder brother has already recruited?"
"I do not believe so, Your Highness. In my assessment... he simply appears to be a man who would not bat an eye at ordinary inducements."
"Hrm."
It was deeply baffling. Was Ziel making a calculated political decision? Even if that were the case, Dietrich had promised wealth and status worth staking an entire lifetime upon.
This is a first.
Even if Ziel politically calculated that Dietrich might struggle to seize the throne, the current offer was not something a 'mere' elective lecturer could easily brush aside. That only made the man more fascinating—and all the more desirable.
Had Ziel jumped at the offer greedily, Dietrich wouldn't have found him half as intriguing.
"No one has ever treated me this way before."
"Well, I did decline your offer once myself, Your Highness..."
"Sir Lelio, did you not turn me down only to come knocking on my door the very next day?"
"Th-that... that is true, I suppose."
What was it, then? What would it take to win him over?
Dietrich could not fathom why Ziel was refusing so adamantly. Then a sudden realization struck him.
"Could it be that he takes genuine, profound pride in his vocation as a teacher?"
"Pardon?"
"Think about it. There are those rare individuals who work purely out of a sense of mission."
"Ah...!"
Lelio nodded in dawning understanding. Looked at through that lens, everything made sense. A sense of duty to educate the youth! A resolve that could not be swayed by mere coin or title.
"Splendid. What a magnificent talent."
The realization only intensified Dietrich's desire to claim him. Regrettably, however, the time had come to return to the Imperial Palace.
"We shall keep a close watch on him for now. Such talent is not going anywhere. From what I hear... both Kundel and Rihardt extended offers as well, only to be rejected?"
"According to our inquiries, yes, Your Highness."
"Those two houses must be trembling with anxiety knowing that I threw my hat into the ring."
"Indeed, which is why they scrambled to make various proposals of their own, though all were summarily declined."
"Hmph. So the negotiations broke down across the board. Ha, who could have imagined? That it was for such a noble reason."
Dietrich wondered if those two patriarchs had even deduced why the instructor had refused them.
There is no immediate way to break a man's sense of mission.
"For the time being, have Sir Eton submit periodic reports on him."
"Understood, Your Highness. Ah, and regarding... 'the man from that night.'"
"Ah. Have you uncovered anything?"
"Sir Eton made contact with the Crow you mentioned, but the Crow claims to have no knowledge of him whatsoever."
"Hrm. Is that truly the case?"
"Sir Eton is maintaining strict surveillance over the Crow for now."
If Instructor Ziel could not be secured, then they had to recruit the man from that night instead. Securing the Empress's recovery had granted Dietrich a golden opportunity.
If I am to overtake my brother, now is the ideal time.
Dietrich's goal was simple: to become the Emperor.
His father, the reigning Emperor, had ascended the throne only after nearing the age of fifty due to the longevity of the late Emperor. While some might claim the sovereign was in his prime, Dietrich knew the truth. His father was concealing his frailty behind closed doors purely to maintain political stability.
It was not an acquired illness like the Empress's, but a congenital weakness of the constitution. Consequently, the hour to determine the imperial succession was rapidly drawing near.
I will be the one to wear the crown.
Dietrich fully intended to become Emperor.
"Do not fret overly, Your Highness. All will unfold favorably."
"My thanks, Sir Lelio. Let us depart."
With that, the prince made ready his return to the palace.
And at that very same moment...
The man who had declined every proposal and driven three imperial heavyweights to wit's end was...
"We will begin class."
...commencing his lecture as if it were any ordinary day.
"Instructor! The Exchange Event just ended! Don't we get a day off?"
"Under academy regulations, canceling class requires a specific justification. Are you ill?"
"No..."
"Then there is no day off. Prepare yourselves."
"Yes, sir..."
Far from basking in the celebratory afterglow of the Exchange Event, Ziel prepared the lesson with his usual, unruffled calm.
"I will take attendance. Student Deleve Kundel."
"Here."
"Student Celia Rihardt."
"Present!"
"Student Quantus Hophel."
"Sir! The leader is present!"
"The Exchange Event is over, so you are no longer the leader. Next. Student Karen Aswan."
"..."
"Student Karen Aswan."
Hearing no answer, Ziel lifted his head to find Karen’s seat empty.
"Is she absent today?"
"Looks like it," someone murmured.
Ziel turned his gaze toward Yulio.
"Student Yulio Harmatan, do you know of any particular reason for Student Karen Aswan's absence?"
"I-I'm not sure, sir."
"Very well. Next. Student Anne Peshua."
Ziel moved on without lingering on the matter. Watching him, Yulio let out a silent, inward sigh.
She swore she'd kill me if I breathed a word, so I can't say anything under any circumstances.
As close as he was to Karen, Yulio knew full well why she had skipped class. But having promised her, his lips were sealed.
Once the roll call was finished, Ziel addressed the class.
"The upcoming schedule is as follows. We will conduct a brief midterm assessment."
"Aaargh!"
Groans erupted at the mere mention of a test. Still, a first-year midterm assessment was nothing extraordinary—merely a brief test rather than a full-scale examination.
The real issue lay elsewhere.
"Immediately following that will be Field Training."
"What?! But that's only for second-years and up!"
"I was informed that beginning this year, first-years will also participate. That is all. Details will be announced shortly."
Field Training.
No sooner had the Exchange Event concluded than an even greater mountain loomed before them.
They told us we'd get to slack off during our first year...!
When on earth do we ever get to rest?!
Silent screams of despair resonated through the classroom at the prospect of the grueling schedule ahead.