Final Evaluations (3)
“You really intend to conduct home visits, Instructor Xiel?”
“Yes. If it is written in the academy regulations, then I shall carry it out.”
“That… may be true, but…”
“Is there a problem?”
“Ah, no. None at all. Yes, please, go right ahead.”
Berhal recalled the conversation he had shared with Xiel just the day before.
Home visits!
It was stated plainly in the faculty bylaws: the instructors in charge of each academic year were obligated to utilize the vacation periods to visit their students’ homes. While there were no specific conditions or mandated quotas, the clause was undeniably there in black and white.
Yet, at the same time, it was a rule that had long since become a dead letter.
The reason was simple: corruption. More than a decade ago, several professors had been caught using home visits as a pretext to tour noble estates and collect shameless bribes.
‘Though with Instructor Xiel, well… if anything, the heads of household will be the ones bewildered.’
Since the clause was written into the bylaws, there was technically nothing stopping him. Especially if it was Instructor Xiel. In fact, the only reason Berhal had consented without objection was precisely because the person asking was Xiel.
‘Still, I never imagined he would actually bring up home visits.’
How on earth would the family patriarchs react? During the Exchange Match, Xiel had flatly rejected the desperate overtures of countless high-ranking nobles. He had even turned down an offer from an imperial prince!
“Due to time constraints, I will visit ten households first,” Xiel announced, his voice devoid of any inflection. “In subsequent breaks, we will prioritize the regions with the highest number of applicants. That is all.”
“Wh-Where are you going first, Instructor?!”
“Why are you even doing home visits in the first place?”
The mere mention of home visits set the students’ hearts racing. They had done nothing particularly wrong, yet the thought of their instructor personally coming to their homes filled them with an inexplicable sense of dread.
“We will proceed in order of proximity to the capital. And as stated in the regulations, I will be conducting parent-teacher consultations regarding your current academic performance and future career paths.”
Academic performance and career consultations—the students were left thoroughly disoriented. To be clear, none of them had misbehaved, but the prospect of a man like Instructor Xiel visiting their ancestral estates was something else entirely.
‘Isn’t this going to cause complete chaos…?’
‘Is this really… going to be okay?’
Home visits had fallen out of practice more than ten years ago. Though the clause still lingered in the rulebook, hardly anyone remembered it, and even fewer would ever consider enforcing it. Both professors and noble parents despised the practice; it was a tedious chore where instructors merely showed up to deliver the same repetitive remarks.
“Our route heads south,” Xiel continued, entirely unbothered by their panicked stares. “We will begin along the way with Cadet Maris Sophen, followed by Cadet Yon Riversong at the southern border, then Cadet Quantus Hophel…”
The named students flinched visibly. Except for Quantus, of course.
“Haha! A grand opportunity to showcase the magnificence of my house!”
“I am reading the roster. Quiet, Cadet Quantus Hophel. Continuing on: Cadet Kus Hillbilly…”
And finally, Xiel reached the last name on the list.
“…and lastly, Cadet Deleve Kundel.”
Those whose names had been called trembled in anxiety, while those who had been spared sighed in collective relief. A home visit was not inherently a bad thing, but having someone like Instructor Xiel show up at their front door carried an immense, suffocating pressure.
“For your information, official correspondence has already been dispatched to each household scheduled for a visit.”
Berhal, standing off to the side, nearly choked. We only talked about this yesterday, and he already sent the letters?!
“They were sent this morning, so they should arrive within three to five days at the latest.”
“Th-Then when do the visits begin…?”
“In three days.”
That meant the visits would start the exact moment vacation began.
‘Is he really doing this?’
‘Wait, if I’m first on the list, I have to tell my father the second I get home!’
Maris Sophen, slated as the very first stop, shuddered violently. He had no time to waste standing around. He needed to rush back to his estate and warn his father immediately.
‘Father already dislikes the instructor as it is…’
Maris did not entirely understand the reason, but his father clearly harbored a grudge against Xiel. After the parent consultation during the Exchange Match, his father had cursed the instructor’s name relentlessly.
‘Will this be all right?’
Amid Maris’s spiraling worries, Xiel finally gave the order to dismiss.
“Dismissed. Take care of your health and maintain your physical conditioning over the break so you may return in peak form.”
With those words, the final class of the first semester drew to an official close. Xiel stepped out of the training hall alongside Berhal, leaving behind a room full of students who found themselves utterly unable to move.
“What on earth just happened…?”
“Have you ever heard of home visits before?”
“Of course not!”
A vacation lasting nearly two months lay ahead of them. The students, who had spent the last few weeks daydreaming about how to spend their free time, felt as though they had just been struck by lightning.
“There’s technically nothing strange about it… so why am I sweating so much?”
Deleve felt the exact same way. Yet deep inside, an undeniable thrill began to stir.
‘The instructor is visiting our house.’
It was a golden opportunity to display the history, tradition, and sheer magnificence of the Kundel family. His father had said so himself: Instructor Xiel was an exceptional talent they needed to recruit, no matter the cost.
‘What if the instructor decides to join our household? Would he become my private tutor?!’
“Deleve, what are you doing?”
“Gah! Dammit, you scared me!” Deleve snapped, whipping his head around to find Celia staring at him with wide, suspicious eyes.
“What’s with that creepy grin on your face? Did the final exam completely fry your brain?”
“Do you seriously have to pick a fight on the very last day of term? What do you want?”
“Ah, it’s nothing, really. Just… well, ahem.” Celia hesitated, shifting her weight as if struggling to get the words out.
Deleve narrowed his eyes, immediately on guard. What kind of insult is she cooking up now? Whenever she hesitated like that, it meant she was carefully selecting the sharpest words possible to mock him. He needed to strike first before she could—
“Deleve, um, thanks to you, I’m gratef—”
“Your Swift Sword Style was pretty pathetic, wasn’t it?”
“……What did you say? My Swift Sword Style was pathetic?!”
“……Wait, what did you just say? Grateful?!”
Their words collided in midair. Celia’s hand flew straight to the hilt of her sword.
“You’re getting beaten half to death today. I literally just perfected my secret technique!”
“Wait, hold on a second! Grateful? You? To me?!”
“Shut up! Draw your sword! I’ll make sure you spend the entire break bedridden!”
“H-Hey! What are you doing? Stop them!”
It took several nearby students throwing their entire weight into the fray to barely pull the two apart.
“Don’t you dare act like you know me from now on! Here I was, trying to be nice and thank you—”
“As if you could ever be genuinely grateful! Give me a break!”
The two turned their backs on each other, huffing with fury.
“Will those two ever stop fighting?”
“Maybe when they graduate?”
“In romance novels, people like that usually end up dating.”
“If they dated, they’d argue every single day and break up within a week.”
Their squabbling had become standard entertainment for the class. If anything, a few spectators looked disappointed that the fight had ended so quickly.
“Tsk. Wonder if they’ll spar next semester? Now that would be worth watching.”
“Karen, you know you enjoy watching this kind of chaos a little too much, right?”
“What, you don’t find it entertaining, Yurio?”
“Not even a little. Just thinking about heading home makes my stomach hurt.”
Karen’s expression wilted slightly at his response. “At least you get to go home.”
“Huh? You’re not going?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“……Just reasons.”
“Come on, what is it?”
Karen glanced around cautiously before leaning in to whisper, “Keep this to yourself. I’m… working a part-time job.”
“To cover tuition and dorm fees? But didn’t you get accepted into the Special Support System?”
“That covers school expenses, sure, but I still need living money for myself.”
The poverty of House Aswan operated on an entirely different scale. While Yurio’s Harmatan family had fallen into decline after exhausting their fortunes on medical treatments, they were not completely ruined. House Aswan, however, had virtually nothing to its name. Karen had sent every single copper of the prize money she earned through blood and sweat during the Exchange Match straight back to her family.
“……That’s just my lot in life, I guess. Anyway, I found a job.”
“Inside the academy?”
“Are you insane? How could I look the other students in the eye? Have you ever heard of the ‘Mortis Collection’?”
“Uh… sounds familiar. Did Celia mention it once?”
“Yeah. It’s the high-end boutique run by Lord Mortis. It’s sooooo absurdly expensive.”
“You’re working there?”
“Yeah. Not out on the showroom floor, though. In the back warehouse.”
“Ah.”
“They told me it takes at least five years of training just to greet customers properly. Doesn’t matter to me, anyway. All I need is to earn my living expenses. Just make sure you keep it a secret.”
“I will. My lips are sealed. Not like I have anyone to talk to back home anyway.”
Yurio offered her a sympathetic glance, keeping his thoughts entirely to himself. Karen despised being pitied more than anything else in the world.
‘Maybe it’s a blessing Instructor Xiel isn’t visiting Karen’s house after all.’
Home visits!
It was a system virtually forgotten throughout the academy. Even in the Arcane School, where the professors’ prestige soared higher than the heavens, the practice was entirely defunct. Yet the Sword School was suddenly resurrecting it. And not through a veteran professor, but through a mere elective instructor who had only just completed his first semester: Xiel Steelheart.
“Head Butler, this… isn’t some sort of practical joke, is it?”
Amos Kundel, the patriarch of House Kundel, handed over the newly arrived letter. The head butler’s pupils trembled as he scanned the parchment.
“A… home visit, my lord.”
“Is this not unprecedented?”
“I was not even aware such a policy existed within the academy.”
“Hm.”
Amos found himself genuinely intrigued. Enforcing an obsolete regulation out of nowhere to conduct a personal home visit? Under normal circumstances, it was an absurdity. The head of a Great Lord’s estate like House Kundel was not someone just anyone could meet on a whim. Standard etiquette required requesting an audience at least one month in advance—more commonly two—and even then, rejection was the most probable outcome. At Amos’s level of power, merely taking the time to meet someone was a matter that carried immense political weight.
“He appears to lack basic decorum, my lord.”
“Decorum, you say.”
It was an understandable conclusion. One could easily assume the man simply did not understand how noble society functioned. Had he grown arrogant because people were constantly seeking him out?
“No, this actually works in our favor.”
“Pardon?”
“Besides, doesn’t it suit him? Instructor Xiel never struck me as a man who cared for unspoken social conventions.”
An unbending, incorruptible instructor—that was the exact impression Amos held of Xiel. Word had reached him that during the Exchange Match, Xiel had flatly refused every single offer extended by the nobility. Rumors even circulated that he had turned down the smallest customary gifts, leaving several aristocrats fuming in frustration. In particular, the patriarch of House Sophen had reportedly spent days publicly badmouthing the instructor.
In that light, this sudden notice suited Xiel perfectly. In fact, it was so characteristic of the man that it made complete sense.
‘This is a splendid opportunity.’
Amos had good reason to welcome the news. Xiel was an exceptional talent he had wanted to recruit for quite some time. A Great Lord’s household like Kundel was far more than a simple gathering place for family; they operated vast commercial enterprises and actively raised and trained their own private knight orders. A supreme martial artist who also possessed peerless pedagogical skill was an asset any lord would covet. And if that man was thoroughly incorruptible to boot?
“Prepare to receive our guest, Head Butler.”
“Yes, my lord. Right away.”
“And… Instructor Xiel isn’t planning on stopping by the Rihardt estate before coming here, is he?”
“…….”
It was a petty detail, yet Amos could not help but care deeply. Whatever else happened, having Xiel visit House Rihardt first was something Amos absolutely, under no circumstances, would tolerate.
‘I imagine Lord Rihardt is harboring the exact same concern, my lord,’ the butler thought dryly, bowing in silence.
Meanwhile, across the empire, an entirely different reaction was unfolding in another noble manor that had received the very same letter.
“A home visit?”
“That is correct, my lord.”
Olton Sophen, the head of House Sophen, felt his face twist into an ugly sneer.
“That insolent bastard dares to invite himself here for a home visit? Ha!”
To not even request a proper appointment, but instead brazenly issue a unilateral notice? Was this a joke?
“Reject it immediately.”
“Understood, my lord.”
How dare he attempt to set foot here? This was House Sophen—a rising powerhouse that commanded immense wealth—
‘Wait. Hold on.’
Olton suddenly raised his hand, his eyes narrowing. “Did the letter mention visiting other households as well?”
“There was no mention of other families in the letter, my lord. However, given that it is an official home visit program, I suspect he intends to visit other households as well.”
Olton fell into deep thought, his brow furrowing. ‘If other prominent families accept his visit and only House Sophen refuses…’
Unsavory rumors might spread through high society. People would whisper behind his back, asking why House Sophen had shut its doors when even greater families had welcomed the instructor.
“We will accept for now.”
“Understood, my lord.”
Olton’s mind raced, recalculating the situation. ‘This might actually turn out to be a stroke of luck.’
The instructor was unquestionably insolent, but discreet inquiries had revealed that his reputation among the student body’s parents was remarkably high. This was the perfect chance to flaunt the overwhelming superiority of House Sophen, dazzle the man with raw wealth, and make him accept the patronage offer he had so rudely rejected before.
“Shall we prepare modest accommodations and send him on his way quickly, my lord?”
“What kind of nonsense is that, Butler?”
“Well… is he not someone who previously offended your sensibilities?”
Olton scowled deeply, feigning immense magnanimity. “Do I look like the sort of petty man who would mistreat my own son’s teacher simply over a minor grievance?”
The head butler nodded silently.
‘Yes. Absolutely. Without a shadow of a doubt.’
Outwardly, however, the butler maintained a perfect poker face. “Of course not, my lord. Forgive my short-sightedness.”
“Ensure our preparations are flawless. Make the reception as lavish as humanly possible.”
“Yes, my lord. I shall see to it immediately.”
“And make sure you thoroughly explain the magnificence of our lineage. Emphasize how much gold was poured into this estate, and make sure he sees every priceless masterpiece on display!”
“I will handle it personally.”
A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of Olton’s lips.
Xiel Steelheart—that naive, arrogant fool who knew nothing of the world’s true power!
‘I will make you regret spurning me that day.’
He would teach that country instructor what true greatness looked like.
