If Xiel Were in His Right Mind (2)
Xiel was definitely out of his mind.
“Is he seriously insane?”
“Shh! The instructor can hear everything!”
“He probably heard that already.”
“Still, how does it make sense to hold class thirty minutes after we got back from a field practicum?!”
At least half of the first-years undoubtedly shared that sentiment. Instead of dismissing them to get some rest after returning, they were called into a lecture? And a supplementary lecture at that?
“Feedback must be conducted while experiences and memories remain sharpest,” Xiel said ruthlessly, paying no heed to their grumbling. “Everyone, take your seats.”
Without wasting a second, he began picking apart every shortcoming from the practicum in painstaking detail.
“When engaging a Peckworm, your response must be swifter. Squad 4 was particularly sluggish. As instructed, you are to disperse immediately upon detecting vibrations. Yet from detection to the order to scatter, there was an approximate delay of two seconds.”
“There were fifty-four documented instances of excessive noise at the campsite. Had this been a practicum for the second- or third-years rather than the first-years, there would have been an over forty percent probability of a monster raid.”
“While executing standard protocol inside the ruins is important, you must broaden your field of vision. Had you observed your surroundings closely, there were countless ways to handle the Stone Crooks. Deleve Kundel of Squad 1 responded by deliberately triggering a trap, and Celia Rihardt of Squad 2 made use of a Praise Card, but the performance of the remaining squads was unremarkable.”
Praise and critique alternated in an unbroken rhythm. The students, who had just been moaning that their shoulders, backs, and knees were falling apart under the weight of their packs, soon found themselves completely absorbed.
“You performed better than your training dictated. However, what matters more than performing well is clearly identifying and correcting your deficiencies.”
Back during his assassin training, his instructor had drilled the same lesson into him.
Mistakes lead to death and failure. And mistakes stem from deficiency.
“Mistakes stem from deficiency,” Xiel stated. “Mistakes lead to injury, and injury leads to the loss of combat capability. At times, they lead to death.”
Hearing the word ‘death’ uttered in such a calm, flat tone sent a genuine chill creeping down their spines.
“Never forget. You stepped into a live battlefield and returned. This time, your strengths masked your shortcomings, but the moment your shortcomings pierce through your strengths is when danger turns absolute.”
Before they knew it, the students were hanging on his every word. It was a grim, chilling lecture, but having just survived the field practicum, none of them could deny the truth of it. Several students had been paralyzed by sheer terror during their encounters with magic beasts. Had it not been for their squadmates pulling them forward and their squad leaders shouting encouragement, more than a few would have given up on the spot. As first-years, their practical experience had been nearly nonexistent.
I really could have died out there.
When we ran into that Swordbird for the first time, I honestly thought…
A sudden realization struck them.
“That is why training matters. Feedback matters just as much. All students who attend my classes in the future must keep this engraved in your minds.”
They finally understood why the endless drills—drills they had previously assumed were merely routine—were so vital. Or more precisely…
“What do you think would’ve happened if we hadn’t learned all that from the instructor beforehand?”
“Who knows? At least one of us probably would’ve died.”
“You mean you, Celia?”
“You and I are having a word after this, Deleve.”
The training Xiel had beaten into them had been that effective.
“Moving on, there are additional matters to address regarding—”
“Haha! Instructor Xiel! I heard you just returned from the practicum, and here you are already in the middle of a lecture!”
A man strode into the gymnasium. It was Department Head Berhal.
“Department Head,” Xiel acknowledged.
“Instructor Xiel, your results in this practicum were nothing short of extraordinary. I just received the courier reports on my way over.”
“Is that so?”
At Berhal’s words, a ripple of excitement swept through the students.
“I knew it!”
“We crushed it! There’s no way we didn't beat the Arcane School!”
“They completely fell apart and had to beg us for firewood and meat. Of course we beat them!”
“Wait, did we outperform the upper years too? Like second place in the Exchange Event?”
“Idiot, we don't compete against our own department this time!”
Berhal looked upon the chattering students with a warm, grandfatherly smile.
“Not only was this the first time first-years participated in the practicum, but there were virtually no injuries, and your achievements are staggering. Future first-years who participate will have to live under your shadow forever, haha! And above all… to bring down a Ruinbark!”
Berhal looked utterly overjoyed.
“I received daily intelligence summaries while the practicum was underway, and last night I literally leaped out of my seat and shouted at the top of my lungs!”
“Why did you do that?” Xiel asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion.
Berhal blinked, caught off guard. “Why? Because… you brought down a Ruinbark!”
“I see. So that is something one might shout over.”
“Are you mocking me? I was simply delighted—”
“Given your level of strength, Department Head Berhal, I assumed slaying a Ruinbark would not strike you as particularly surprising.”
Was that a compliment, or was he being mocked?
It has to be a compliment, right?
Berhal had noticed this before: Xiel had a peculiar way of speaking that was subtly bizarre, yet somehow left you feeling quite pleased in the end. The only drawback was that it occasionally made your head hurt if you tried to overthink it.
Well, he called me strong, didn't he?
Comfortably settling on that conclusion, Berhal smiled broadly once more.
“Ahem! Well, a Ruinbark is certainly something I could handle without much trouble, but the fact that you brought one down while shepherding a pack of first-years was what astonished me so.”
“So that is what you meant.”
…What on earth did you think I meant, then?
“In any case, it is a magnificent accomplishment, Instructor Xiel. The other professors don't know yet, but they will be flabbergasted once word spreads.”
Xiel considered this for a moment. Professor Elkanto and Professor Marchen will likely be shocked. Neither of them would have had an easy time taking down a Ruinbark alone. On the other hand, Professor Idel and Professor Isabella were capable of it, so they probably wouldn't find it all that surprising.
“And above all… I heard the news,” Berhal continued, his grin widening further. “You put the Arcane School in your debt, didn't you?”
This was practically another massive blow dealt to the Arcane School. Those mages had undoubtedly been grinding their teeth in preparation for this practicum, only to end up begging the Sword School for aid!
“Yes. In exchange for assistance, they promised magic dolls and magic tools, along with granting one request of mine.”
“Magic dolls and magic tools? What do you need those for all of a sudden?”
“I plan to utilize them in training the students.”
“Ah, I see! And the request…?”
“It concerns their education.”
“……?”
Berhal had no idea what that entailed, but one thing was certain: The Arcane School won't dare make a peep for quite a while. He didn't know the full details of their situation, but the supervising professor for their first-years was likely being thoroughly roasted over the coals right about now.
“You have done great work, Instructor Xiel.”
“It is great work, then. Thank you.”
“…Ahem. At any rate, there will be a fitting reward for this as well.”
In that instant, a faint glint flashed across Xiel’s eyes. Berhal did not miss it.
He must have liked that last incentive bonus.
Taking second place in the Exchange Event had resulted in a crisp deposit of one hundred thousand cel into Xiel’s Imperial Bank account. That sum was several times greater than his monthly pay—exceeding his annual salary by a wide margin.
Money truly is the finest tool for keeping talent around.
Berhal was confident it would work like a charm this time as well. In truth, compared to the vast budget the Sword School poured into its operations, it wasn't an exorbitant sum. Xiel had accomplished something that all that institutional funding had failed to produce. One hundred thousand cel was a bargain, and Berhal was prepared to pay out of his own pocket if that was what it took to keep him here.
Given that the Arcane School was involved in this triumph… would roughly one hundred and fifty thousand cel suffice?
Of course, Berhal had no idea that money was not what kept Xiel tethered to this academy in the slightest.
“Ah, but what kind of class are you holding right now?”
“I was providing feedback.”
“I see, I see! Ah! Right, and about the practicum—”
“Department Head.”
“Yes?”
“Class is currently in session.”
“Ah…”
A sheepish look washed over Berhal’s face. In truth, there was nothing pressing left to say, nor did he feel particularly offended. This was Instructor Xiel, after all.
“Ahem. Well then, I will let you finish your class. We shall discuss the practicum’s results again very soon.”
“Understood. Until then.”
The department head promptly made his exit. Watching the entire exchange unfold, the students thought to themselves in stunned silence:
None of the other professors would dare talk to the department head like that…
Just what kind of person is our instructor?
A presence that defied every known standard. That was the Xiel they knew.
“We will resume the lecture.”
With vacation just around the corner, this solitary instructor who had appeared out of nowhere had reshaped the Sword School entirely in less than a single semester.
Mages found physical labor bothersome.
At times, they detested it outright. There was a prevailing sentiment that physical violence was a vulgarity reserved only for the lowly. It was the very reason they looked down on knights, sneeringly dismissing them as mere sword-swingers.
Yet right now…
BAM!
“Professor Emeric!”
Unable to contain his fury, Professor Titus slammed his fist onto the desk.
Ow, dammit, that hurts!
Regret washed over him instantly. Having never learned how to properly clench a fist, striking the hardwood had sent a jolt of agony straight through his wrist. Did I fracture a bone? But given the atmosphere in the room, he had to endure it.
“Professor Emeric… can you not carry out a single task properly?”
“……”
“I sent you out there to make them eat dirt, so how in the world did you end up being the one eating dirt instead?!”
“Well… as you know, there were unforeseen circumstances…”
“Circumstances! Yes, I read the reports! But even so—!”
Emeric ground his teeth in silence.
You bastard… why don't you try being dumped in that exact same situation?!
The students had been exhausted, supplies had failed to arrive, and monsters had raided them on all sides!
We're both fifth-tier mages, yet you act like royalty just because you're a senior…
On his way back from the campsite, Emeric had seen the gruesome sight: the shattered, mangled remains of magic dolls crushed beneath the feet of a Ruinbark. Alongside them, the crates of rations and provisions meant for their camp had been stomped into unrecognizable pulp. The wave of despair that had washed over him then was indescribable. The only silver lining was that the doll handlers had miraculously survived.
Yet the man before him was completely divorced from reality.
“Professor Emeric, I placed my faith in you. I am deeply disappointed.”
“……”
One was the supervisor of the first-years; the other oversaw the third-years.
I wonder if the Sword School is this dysfunctional too.
The image of Instructor Xiel, the supervisor of the Sword School's first-years, flashed through Emeric’s mind. If not for Xiel, the Arcane School’s first-years would have suffered a far uglier fate before being forced into an emergency evacuation. In fact, one or two might have sustained severe, life-threatening injuries. He wasn't merely grateful to the man; Xiel was a bona fide savior. Even if borrowing the dolls, taking the magic tools, and extracting a favor had been attached as conditions…
At least those sword instructors were reasonable.
So why was this man acting like such a petty tyrant? Strutting around and barking orders just because he had a few years of seniority!
“Professor Emeric.”
“Yes, Professor Titus.”
“I will not forget this incident. I am exceedingly disappointed in you.”
“…I apologize.”
There was nothing else he could do. Academia was just like that. When a senior professor told you to jump, you jumped; when they told you to bow your head, you bowed. There was no other choice. That didn't mean his simmering resentment went away, however.
“Sigh… honestly. Even when I try to pull you up the ranks, you fumble everything handed to you…”
Titus continued grating on his nerves until the very end.
“When the next opportunity arrives, you had better handle it properly.”
He spoke as if bestowing a generous favor.
What a joke.
He just didn't want to get his own hands dirty. Professor Jonas of the second-years belonged to the faction of Professor Niels from the fifth-years, making him untouchable. In the end, Emeric was the only easy target.
“Once vacation ends, the Arcane School will propose an entertaining event to the Sword School under the guise of a friendly exchange.”
A conspiracy leaked from Titus’s lips.
“You had better perform well then, Professor Emeric.”
“……”
What a miserable life.
Maybe I should have learned swordsmanship instead.
For the first time, Emeric genuinely regretted ever entering the Arcane School.
“May I ask… what kind of event it is?”
“Its purpose is to crush those Sword School brutes underfoot by any means necessary, of course. Isn't that obvious?”
A sudden, unbidden thought crossed Emeric’s mind.
Will that even work?
Xiel Steelheart.
From what Emeric had witnessed of that instructor…
That isn't going to be easy.
The man was far more terrifying than anyone here could ever imagine.