No Other Choice
Celia remembered what her father, Darren Rihardt, had once told her.
"Celia, you must never take another person's words purely at face value. Always consider what hidden meaning lies beneath them."
Heeding her father's counsel, Celia pondered the hidden meaning behind Xiel's words.
From her vantage point, this was a situation where one could simply lend a helping hand without fuss.
'Could this be a political calculation?!'
Celia knew little of politics, but she understood the rivalry between the Sword School and the Arcane School intimately.
'He truly is remarkable.'
By bringing up a "transaction," Instructor Xiel was clearly applying pressure to the Arcane School to extract concessions.
'After all, the two departments are locked in a power struggle.'
A political calculation! She could feel his unyielding determination not to yield an inch to the Arcane School.
'That's Instructor Xiel for you.'
The misunderstandings of young students often wandered in such grand directions.
In truth, Xiel harbored no such intentions whatsoever.
"A-A transaction, you say...?"
"If we provide you with our supplies, what can the Arcane School offer us in return?"
It was merely an ingrained habit—the assassin's instinct to weigh profit and loss in every circumstance before deciding on the next move.
"..."
Emeric was utterly flustered.
'What can we offer?'
They had come begging because they had nothing, and now he was asking what they could give? Could this man possibly be...
'Is he taking this opportunity to squeeze us?'
Emeric swallowed hard.
'I knew he wouldn't be an easy man to deal with.'
The Sword School and the Arcane School. What had once been the Arcane School's overwhelming dominance had shattered following the incident with the Special Support System. And the man who had driven a wedge into that established hierarchy was none other than Xiel Steelheart.
What was happening now felt like a direct extension of that affair.
'...Still, I have no choice.'
Emeric was in no position to argue over pride or politics. If things continued like this, would the first-year mages have to turn back, freezing and starved? No, he could not even guarantee they would make it back safely. The fact that the supply dolls had failed to arrive meant something had happened on the road. And above all, there was that colossal magic beast roaming nearby.
'Damn it.'
At this rate, even retreating was fraught with mortal peril.
'I have to keep these children alive first.'
"I have nothing I can offer you right now."
"Then a transaction cannot be established."
"B-But wait! I can give you something once we return, Instructor Xiel!" Emeric drew a sharp breath before pressing on. "I swear on my name. Once we return to the academy, I will see to it that you are properly compensated."
An intriguing thought crossed Xiel's mind. Vacation was drawing near, but the semester was not over yet.
"In that case, lend me some puppets."
"Puppets?"
Did he mean the magic puppets?
'Oh, bloody hell. Of all things!'
Though they had charged a steep—no, an extortionate—rental fee, the Arcane School had indeed leased them out until recently. But following the Special Support System scandal, all such rentals had been strictly banned.
'He could have asked for magic tools instead...'
Why did it have to be pup—
"I would also appreciate it if you included the magic tools I specify."
"..."
So it was not just the puppets after all.
"I-I can manage the magic tools somehow, but the puppets are..."
"Understood. Then we have nothing more to discuss."
Xiel turned away without hesitation.
Emeric scrambled forward, desperately blocking his path.
"Somehow! I'll make it happen somehow!"
The priority was keeping the students alive. Even if red tape stood in the way later, he could worry about the consequences then!
Xiel, however, was not one to be swayed by mere bluster.
"How do you intend to guarantee that?"
"A-A guarantee?"
"I have no reason to take your word for it."
Emeric trembled from head to toe. So this was what it felt like to be backed completely into a corner. His fists shook with tension, but after exhaling a long, shuddering sigh, he forced his voice steady.
"I, Emeric Kent, swear upon my mana and the name of my house."
It was the absolute most he could offer.
"Instructor Xiel, regardless of how much our departments clash or despise one another, I am a man who understands basic honor. I beg of you."
Xiel regarded him in silence, turning the concept over in his head. What is an oath? Should a transaction lacking tangible or explicit collateral be accepted?
During his days as an assassin, he would have rejected it outright. But now...
To build a new life, one had to consider new ways of doing things.
"Very well. The loan of magic puppets and the provision of specified magic tools. I will accept your spoken oath as sufficient guarantee."
"...Thank you." Relieved, Emeric let out a breath he had been holding. "I'll go gather a few students. We'll need hands to help haul the supplies—"
"Not yet. Wait about an hour."
"Ah, you need time to sort through your inventory. I underst—"
"No. We will share what we have, but it will not be much."
Emeric blinked. What did that mean? After finalizing the deal, was the man turning stingy?
"Instructor Xiel, we have quite a few mouths to feed. If you could spare just a little more..."
"The first-year Arcane School students will eat their fill and sleep warm."
'What on earth is he talking about?' Celia tilted her head in confusion.
Sleeping warm made sense enough; they could simply lend them firewood, since they had some to spare anyway. But food was a different story—their own rations were limited.
'Still, since it's Instructor Xiel, he must have a plan.'
And indeed, he did.
"We are going to hunt, Professor Emeric Kent."
"Is your plan to hunt magic beasts, Instructor? Don't tell me we're going to eat beast meat?!" Celia blurted out, her voice rising in alarm.
Xiel turned toward her. "Do you wish to consume magic beast meat, Student Celia Rihardt?"
"What? No!"
"Regrettably, magic beast flesh is unfit for consumption. While certain beasts can be ingested, the side effects are severe."
"Th-That wasn't what I meant—"
"Even if you crave it, you must restrain yourself. It will lead to non-combat casualties. In particular, consuming Peckworm meat induces immediate vomiting, abdominal cramps, and violent diarrhea."
"It does?"
That was news to her. But to Xiel's eyes, she looked like someone lamenting a missed meal.
'I should issue a firm warning.'
"Tepic meat is tough and reeks of a foul musk. While marginally edible, the risk of parasitic infection is extraordinarily high."
"Oh..."
"Lastly, field-dressing a Sword Bird takes far longer than the act of eating it. The skin is covered in microscopic, razor-sharp barbs that take hours to peel away, and during butchering, those barbs frequently contaminate the meat."
"How on earth do you know all that?"
"I have tried it."
"Excuse me?"
"However, I advise that Student Celia Rihardt not follow suit."
Thanks to Xiel's relentless deadpan lecture, Celia had inexplicably been painted as a woman with a perverse craving for monster meat.
Emeric muttered in a daze, "The students of the Sword School certainly possess... peculiar tastes."
"That's not it at all!" Celia vehemently protested.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Deleve.
Yon.
Yurio.
Karen.
And Celia.
Five students set out with Xiel for an impromptu "hunting lesson." Along with them came one more person.
"Professor, stay close behind us. Oh, and Instructor Xiel told me to give you this."
"Ah, r-right. Thank you."
Emeric gulped down the water greedily. The cool liquid felt like pure salvation. Remembering Xiel's stern instruction not to make a sound from this point onward, he swallowed the sigh of satisfaction that threatened to escape his lips.
'Still, to think we're actually going hunting.'
He had never dreamed Xiel would suggest hunting wild game rather than simply dividing up their rations.
Mages were, by nature, sedentary creatures. In plain terms, they were desk-bound scholars completely removed from physical conditioning. While a few old-fashioned mages stressed the value of physical endurance, the vast majority were thoroughly out of shape. In short, they had no business engaging in an activity as physically demanding as tracking game through the wilderness.
Yet alongside the shock, Emeric felt a quiet surge of curiosity about what hunting actually entailed.
"Professor Emeric Kent. I cannot hand you provisions right away. However, we will secure game through the hunt, and afterward, I will teach you how to catch your own."
"U-Understood, Instructor Xiel."
Curiosity aside, the Arcane School had no other alternatives. The only other choice was to declare forfeiture of the field training and turn back. That would certainly secure them warm beds and hot meals, but doing so was unthinkable—their reputation within the academy would be pulverized beyond repair.
"The three most critical elements in hunting are as follows," Xiel began, initiating the lesson. "Wind, silence, and breath."
Wind.
Silence.
Breath.
"Halt, everyone. A deer."
Xiel brought the party to an abrupt stop before turning his gaze to Deleve. "Student Deleve Kundel, from which direction is the wind blowing?"
"From behind us, sir."
"If the wind is at your back, your prey will catch your scent and flee. We approach against the wind."
Next was silence. Wild game possessed remarkably sharp ears.
"Cease all conversation from this moment on. Suppress your footsteps as much as possible. Mind the dry twigs and fallen leaves beneath your feet."
Finally, breath.
"Raise your bow, Student Deleve Kundel."
Their target stood not far off: a healthy deer grazing peacefully.
"Keep your inhalation and exhalation perfectly balanced. Do not force it; breathe naturally."
Guided by Xiel's measured whisper, Deleve drew the bowstring back. His father had taught him archery in the past, but he had only ever loosed a handful of arrows in his life.
"Once the string is fully drawn, inhale and hold your breath without tension."
Inhale.
Tension hung heavy in the absolute quiet. Deleve felt the faintest tremor run through the fingers gripping the nock of the arrow against the taut cord.
"Remember. At this range, the arrow follows an arc. Raise your aim slightly higher. A little more. Right there. From that point, shift slightly to the left. Hold. When I give the signal, release the string."
Deleve swallowed dryly. This was the first real hunt of his life. Though he had accompanied his father into the field before, it had never felt this tense or perilous.
'My brothers must have done this dozens of times.'
As the Great Lord of the South, House Kundel owned vast tracts of forests and hunting grounds. Regrettably, Deleve had never once been allowed to join his father on an actual expedition. Each time, his father had either been occupied with inspecting the southern provinces or deemed Deleve too young to participate.
'Maybe I should have begged him to take me along back then.'
Right at that moment, down by the creek, the deer lowered its head to drink.
Fweee!
Xiel let out a sharp whistle. The startled deer jerked its head up—
Twang!
Thwip!
Deleve released the string on pure reflex.
Thwack!
The shaft buried itself cleanly into the deer's neck.
Deleve's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Well done."
At Xiel's succinct praise, the students collectively exhaled the breaths they had been holding.
"D-Did he actually hit that?!"
"The deer went down!"
"Deleve, that was incredible!"
Deleve looked just as stunned as the rest of them. A direct hit on the very first try?
'Instructor Xiel really is amazing.'
Ever since the lesson on dealing with colossal magic beasts, Xiel had become practically a deity in Deleve's mind. And now, he demonstrated this level of flawless hunting expertise!
"Instructor, do you know how to hunt as well?"
"Yes."
During his days in the Organization, he had mastered every survival technique imaginable. Hunting was simply one of them. Assassinations often unfolded deep within forests, rugged mountains, or barren wastelands. A mission was only truly finished when one slipped away afterward without being spotted by a single soul. To avoid scrutiny, an operative sometimes had to hunker down days in advance near the target's expected path and survive solely off the land. That was when he had acquired the craft.
"It feels like there's nothing our instructor can't do," Karen remarked admiringly.
Xiel shook his head. "There is."
"Huh? Really? Like what?"
"I cannot eat mint chocolate ice cream."
"..."
Xiel's expression was utterly deadpan and entirely uncompromising.
"It does not taste good."
"B-But it's delicious..."
"No. It tastes bad."
While Celia pouted in mild dejection, it was already her turn. Locating the next target proved simple enough. A short distance away sat a hare.
"Hares are slightly trickier."
"The aiming?"
"The aim is one factor, but their senses are far keener."
Amid the hushed stillness, Xiel issued his guidance.
"Five degrees to the left. A fraction lower. Release the string just as you are."
Twang! Shhhk! Thump!
True to form, the arrow struck home without a hair's breadth of error. Watching the hare go limp, Celia turned to Xiel with wide, gleaming eyes.
"I hit it, Instructor!"
"Commit that sensation to memory. Well done."
The hunting masterclass continued unabated.
"When tracking quarry, observe three signs: direction, tracks, and droppings."
How to track game.
"Regulate your breath. Consciously suspend the breathing techniques you have practiced. What you require to shoot a bow is not mana, but patience."
Precautions for archery.
"Cultivate endurance. Patience is the single greatest virtue in the hunt."
And finally, perseverance.
Twang! Thwip!
Karen, Yurio, and Yon each successfully bagged their own targets in turn. While it was made possible entirely by Xiel's impeccable instruction, it was the students themselves who had drawn and released the strings.
"W-We really caught them!"
"I haven't touched a bow in nearly ten years..."
"This is crazy! I never imagined we'd be out here hunting. The others back at camp are going to be so jealous when they see what we're bringing back!"
By that point, Professor Emeric, who had spent the entire trek hovering quietly in the rear, began to feel an odd itch in his palms.
"It is your turn, Professor."
Xiel approached and extended a bow toward him.
"M-Me?"
"You are under no obligation to do so. However, securing one more hare would be beneficial."
Truth be told, Emeric wanted to try.
"I'll... give it a shot."
Grip.
The moment the wooden stave settled into his grasp, his heart thudded against his ribs. Throughout his entire life, Emeric had never wielded a weapon. Leave alone a common sword, he had never even held a dagger—not even a simple blade meant for combat. In his mind, such instruments were crude tools swung only by vulgar mercenaries.
Yet for some reason, gripping the bow made him wonder if holding a sword might not be so distasteful after all.
Gulping down his nervousness, Emeric slowly drew himself up.
"Seat the nock of the arrow into the string's center. Just like that. Then draw with three fingers."
Following Xiel's crash course, they resumed tracking until another hare came into view.
"Draw the string smoothly. When it reaches full draw, hold your breath."
Creeeeak...
His fingers pulled the cord. Almost instantly, a violent tremor seized his hands, his arms, and his entire upper body. The sheer lack of physical conditioning was glaringly obvious. His upper body strength fell short even compared to the students, and he was already running short of breath.
'I am a mage, after all.'
No matter how much he rationalized it, his abysmal stamina was a plain fact. He felt thoroughly ashamed. Clenching his teeth, Emeric dug deep and held his ground.
"A little more to the left. Five degrees down. Right there. Maintain that held breath. Hold... When I give the word, release the string cleanly."
His muscles shook violently. His fingertips went numb, and a sharp ache blossomed across his back.
"Now."
Twang! Shhh-wip!
The arrow flew—
Thwack!
Emeric's very first shot landed cleanly on target.
"I-It hit!"
"Congratulations, Professor!"
"The professor's actually a great shot! I guess professors really are built different, even from the Arcane School."
"Shh, Celia. Saying it like that makes it hard to tell whether he should be flattered or offended."
"Oh, really?"
The students' congratulations barely registered in Emeric's ears. It was an entirely novel sensation—for the first time in his life, he had picked up a physical weapon, drawn an exhausting bow, and struck his quarry true! His hands still trembled from exertion, but the surge of adrenaline made his chest feel as if it might burst.
"Excellently done, Professor Emeric Kent."
At Xiel's quiet praise, Emeric felt as though his spirits might pierce the heavens.
"With the hare you just caught, the students of the Arcane School will be spared from hunger."
Xiel had merely stated the practical reality of what was to come, but to Emeric's ears, it sounded like the warmest, most benevolent remark in the world.
The lingering hostility in his heart vanished, melting away like snow beneath the morning sun.
'Professor Titus, I am truly sorry.'
The Sword School was not an enemy. At the very least, the first-year students and Instructor Xiel Steelheart certainly were not. Apologies to Professor Titus aside, Emeric could not bring himself to carry out any scheme to take Instructor Xiel down a peg.
Instructor Xiel was...
A benefactor.
"B-By the way, how ought we prepare this hare to eat, Instructor Xiel?"
"You skin it, remove the entrails, and roast it over an open flame, Professor Emeric Kent."
"..."
"Have you never done so before?"
Of course he hadn't. This was the first time he had even touched a hunt.
"I will handle it on your behalf. The students must be famished, so doing it for you will be faster than explaining the procedure."
"Th-Thank you, Instructor Xiel."
A benefactor was indeed a benefactor.
Except—
"In exchange, besides the agreed puppets and magic tools, might I ask a personal favor of you at a later date?"
He was a benefactor with exceedingly sharp arithmetic.
"A favor?"
"Yes. I will tell you when the time comes."
"A-Ah, of course."
Emeric had no idea what kind of favor it might be, but he had no other choice.
Grumble...
His stomach was growling fiercely.