A Father-Son Wager (Part 3)
House Siren!
Amos felt his brow furrow before he could stop himself.
"Is this…… because of what happened to my son?"
"Because they continue to threaten the students."
Amos knew. In fact, House Kundel was currently keeping a close watch on Siren for that very reason. They simply had not moved yet because they lacked definitive justification and decisive evidence. How could Amos not know? When Deleve had been targeted, Amos had flown into a towering rage, nearly deciding right then and there to wipe House Siren off the face of the empire. But the head of a great ducal house was forever shackled by political consequences.
"And what do you intend to do with that intelligence?"
"I plan to ensure House Siren can no longer threaten the students."
Just how was a mere liberal arts instructor going to……?
So it’s true…… He really does have the Imperial Family at his back?
Was Second Prince Dietrich's blatant recruitment offer merely a smokescreen to obscure the throne's covert backing? Otherwise, there was no way such words regarding a powerhouse like House Siren could tumble so casually from the mouth of an ordinary academy instructor.
Am I coveting someone far too large for me to handle?
What was the Imperial Family plotting? Did they intend to manipulate the nobility by pulling the strings of this singularly gifted instructor?
"House Siren is large, Instructor."
"Are you saying their mansion is large?"
"……."
Was that a barbed joke?
"House Soffen's mansion was quite large as well."
The moment Amos convinced himself the Imperial Family was backing the man, every word Ziel uttered took on a profound, layered gravity.
"……I do not know what your hidden intentions are, but very well."
House Siren was a thorny adversary, particularly under the empire's current climate where mages held overwhelming sway. But if Siren could be suppressed through the hands of the Imperial Family? In fact, this is an exceptional opportunity.
"Splendid. I will hand over all the intelligence our family has gathered."
Information Kundel had collected but could never use for lack of official pretext—if that landed in Instructor Ziel's hands, it would be more than enough to check House Siren. The value of the gathered intelligence was immense, but since they couldn't deploy it immediately anyway, passing it over was the far superior choice.
And with that, the second condition was settled.
Wait a moment. A sudden thought struck Amos. Neither the first nor the second condition contained a single personal request. When boiled down, every single demand was solely for the sake of the students.
"You seem to harbor no material greed, Instructor."
"What do you mean by material greed?"
"Money, for instance."
Ziel shook his head.
"I like money."
"Pardon?"
"Receiving an incentive bonus from the academy made me feel quite good."
"An incentive bonus……."
"After receiving it, I thought it would be wonderful to receive even more in the future."
"Then why did you refuse the offer I extended earlier?"
"I like money, but there is something I like even more."
Just as Amos was about to ask what on earth that could be, Ziel brought up his third condition.
"Now for the third."
What could it possibly be this time? Deploying the Kundel Knights. The intelligence on House Siren. It’s bound to be something enormous. It would surely be another condition that defied ordinary imagination. Was it a request for the students again? Perhaps financial sponsorship for the Sword School, or something along those lines……
"I read that House Kundel possesses the Polar Night Dagger."
Amos blinked, his brow furrowing once more simply because he had no memory of such an item.
"……Excuse me? We possess what?"
"Yes. That is what I heard."
"That is……"
"There is a book called The Encyclopedia of Treasures. It was written in there."
It was Deleve who spoke up instead.
"He's right, Father. That dagger is in our family vault."
"I-Is it?" Amos coughed into his hand, feeling rather sheepish. The truth was, House Kundel had far too many relics stored away. That was simply the nature of a Great Lord's vault. "Well, I suppose it might be."
"Instructor, but from what I know, that dagger is incredibly old and worn," Deleve said, tilting his head. "I heard it was excavated from some ancient ruins, but it doesn't hold much value."
"It holds great value, Student Deleve Kundel."
Was there something he didn't know? Deleve had actually seen it when wandering around the vault as a child, and it had looked like nothing more than an ancient, rusted relic. "What do you mean, it holds great value?"
"There are reasons."
Amos didn't bother overthinking it and asked directly, "Will that truly be enough, Instructor?"
"Yes. It is more than enough."
"I could give you far more."
"If you did, it would exceed the value of the dagger I provided you."
Value was relative, but to Amos, this still felt embarrassingly meager. Fulfilling a condition with a dusty old dagger is a massive win for me, but still…… Since the other party was satisfied, however, there was no reason to press further.
"Very well, Instructor. Then the deal is struck."
"Yes. It is."
Amos's heart pounded with satisfaction. Fortune is rolling right into my lap. With this, they could rein in those insufferable merchant factions. If played right, they could completely drive out the Tollen Merchant Guild—one of their primary pillars—from the south and cripple their influence. On top of that, he couldn't wait to see what would become of House Siren. And all I did was trade a worthless antique for an extraordinarily priceless masterpiece!
A broad grin tugged at the corners of Amos's lips.
"Ah, Instructor. As I mentioned earlier, we will prepare a feast for you. If you rest in your quarters, an attendant will come to escort you. And, er……"
"The Polar Night Dagger, Father."
"Ahem. Yes, I will also have the Polar Night Dagger retrieved so you may receive it after dinner."
"Understood."
Once Ziel followed the attendant and departed the drawing room, Deleve's lips curled into a smug smirk.
"Looks like I won, Father."
"Won? What do you mean won? In our wager?"
"Yes. The instructor basically didn't accept, did he?"
Amos gave a small, disgruntled grunt, resorting to a rather petty defense. "I never even made the formal proposal, so the wager hasn't concluded yet. Hmph."
"Father, that's foul play."
"Watch your tongue. Foul play, honestly."
"It's not like you'll be able to make the offer in the future anyway."
In truth, he really couldn't. Instead of proposing, Amos had ended up on the receiving end of a deal involving a dagger. When all was said and done, Ziel had done them an enormous favor. A transaction was supposed to be an exchange of comparable worth, yet no matter how Amos sliced it, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had walked away with an absurd profit.
"……Regardless, I will propose to him again next time."
"I don't think you'll ever recruit him."
"Ahem! I told you, the wager was never even initiated!"
"Fine, fine. Let's call it a draw, then."
"Hmph." Amos sighed inwardly. When had his youngest son become so brazenly sly? He used to be such an adorable boy. "……Then let us do this. You will accompany me on the inspection tour, and while doing so, you will learn the family's secret technique."
"Understood. I'll do that." Deleve nodded as if he had been waiting for the suggestion all along.
"……Wait. Did you plan this?"
"Tagging along on an inspection tour is nothing."
"I-It's practically hellish training, you know that?"
"I've already endured plenty of that at the academy."
Amos stared at him in bewilderment. Just what kind of training had the boy been subjected to at the academy?
Ziel was the only person in the world who practiced a breathing method unlike any other—the Breathing of the Polar Night.
Back in Black Sky, the assassination organization had forced Ziel to train in this breathing technique after recognizing his extraordinary genius. It was an art that even the instructing cadres had failed to master, yet Ziel had eventually grasped it to perfection. The reason no one else could learn it was simple: it was excruciatingly difficult. More precisely, it operated on a mechanism entirely alien to standard breathing techniques.
Where conventional breathing methods drew in mana, circulated it, refined it into one's own, and gradually expanded the vessel over time—
The Breathing of the Polar Night accumulates no mana whatsoever.
Only in the exact moment of need. Only the exact amount required. It inhaled atmospheric mana through breath and focused it into a single pinprick point, maximizing efficiency to an extreme degree. Because of this, the practitioner possessed no passive mana signature that could be sensed, and surprise attacks never failed. It was precisely because of its baffling, unnatural mechanics that everyone else had failed, while Ziel alone had miraculously succeeded in mastering it.
In any case—
Now, I am the only one who knows it.
Unless Ziel personally passed it down to someone else, it had become a martial art no living soul could learn. Of course, before him, no one had known it either—save for its creator. Furthermore, Ziel was the only person alive who even knew the identity of that creator. In more ways than one, it was a breathing technique unique in all the world.
I never imagined the creator of the technique and the crafter of the dagger would be the same person.
While browsing through The Encyclopedia of Treasures in the academy library, he had stumbled upon the entry for the Polar Night Dagger by sheer chance. What had astonished him was that the craftsman's name recorded there was identical to the founder of the Breathing of the Polar Night.
Azneel.
Azneel was an enigma. He had forged numerous armaments, including the Polar Night Dagger, yet none had garnered much acclaim. He was known as a wanderer, an elusive figure said to have appeared across entirely different historical eras. Most scholars doubted the authenticity of his existence, but Ziel had felt an unmistakable pull—which was why he had asked for the blade.
And that very dagger had just been delivered into his hands.
"Here is the Polar Night Dagger you requested, Instructor."
Because it was treated as a gift, the dagger rested in an exceptionally lavish wooden box.
"Thank you, Patriarch Amos Kundel."
"Are you truly satisfied with just this? Our vault holds many other treasures."
"This is what I need most."
"Hmm. When I looked into it, it was supposedly crafted by someone named Azneel…… Are you a personal admirer of his work?"
"Nothing of the sort."
Well, if the man himself was satisfied, there was little more to say. Amos gave a warm nod.
"Should you ever need anything in the future, please do not hesitate to ask. Frankly, I still feel as though I have given you far too little."
"This is more than enough."
After Ziel declined once more, Amos handed over a sturdy leather knapsack.
"And this is the intelligence you asked for."
It was remarkably heavy. Every inch of space inside was packed with documents—the complete findings of House Kundel's investigation into House Siren.
"There is dangerous information within. Please, handle it with care."
"I understand."
Ziel secured both the wooden box and the knapsack.
"Then, I shall take my leave."
"It would have been wonderful if you could have stayed another day. It is quite regrettable, Instructor."
"I have many duties awaiting my return."
Amos nodded, genuine disappointment coloring his expression. Now that the home visit was finished, he had hoped the instructor would linger for a few days of leisurely rest. And if possible……
I wanted to spar with him.
Word of the man's martial prowess was extraordinary. Amos had genuinely wished to test his blade against him.
"Very well. It is a pity, but it cannot be helped. As for the Tollen Merchant Guild, we shall handle them. With the proof of the dagger you provided, paired with the testimony of House Riversong, we will be able to drive them out entirely."
"Understood."
"Since there is a chance they might attempt to track you, I will assign an escort from our house for your journey back."
Ziel politely waved it off. "That will not be necessary."
"If they happen to launch an ambush, we intend to seize it as concrete evidence. Furthermore, if they see a knight of our house accompanying you, they will be far less inclined to cause nuisance."
Ziel considered the reasoning for a brief moment before accepting. "Understood. One person will suffice."
"I anticipated your agreement and had someone prepared immediately. Sir Gunter."
As if waiting on cue, a knight stepped forward from behind them and offered a crisp, disciplined salute. His name was Gunter Redil.
"He is a 2nd-Class Knight of our order. Put simply, he is of Great Knight caliber."
"Then what caliber are 1st-Class Knights?"
"Naturally, they are individuals bordering the realm of Imperial Knights."
A 2nd-Class Knight of House Kundel! In terms of prestige alone, little else needed to be said. Despite his rugged, intimidating countenance, Gunter bowed his head with impeccable decorum.
"I am Gunter Redil. It is an immense honor to escort someone so deeply esteemed by our lord. I shall ensure your safe passage to the capital."
"Understood."
And so, Gunter came to accompany Ziel on his return journey.
Throughout the entire time they took to leave the Kundel estate, Gunter did not utter a single word to Ziel.
This is pleasant.
Ziel had a great deal to process and ponder along the way. He wanted to test the Polar Night Dagger, quietly organize his curriculum for the upcoming semester, and contemplate how best to utilize the intelligence on House Siren provided by Amos.
I will need to meet with the Crow once I arrive.
He needed to craft protective gear using the Ruinbark's carapace, and he had to formulate the details of the commission he would give the Crow, Erso. A companion who maintained disciplined silence seemed utterly ideal.
However, the exact instant their horses cleared the estate gates and merged onto the main imperial highway—
"Phew! Good grief, pretending to be so stern was nearly the death of me! The truth is, our knights have this intensely solemn image to uphold in front of the estate folk. You know how it is, right? That's just how knights of a great ducal house have to carry themselves. But honestly, even our Lord Patriarch acts all grim and dignified on the outside, while on the inside he's a chatterbox who laughs at everything!"
Ziel froze.
"Ah, right, Instructor Ziel! Let me introduce myself properly! I'm Gunter Redil! I've heard so much about you from the Patriarch, hahaha! I heard your skills are utterly phenomenal? To tell you the truth, I actually tutored young Master Deleve for a brief spell before he enrolled at the academy, and sweet heavens! He came back after barely a single semester and his skills had improved by leaps and bounds!"
For the very first time in his life, Ziel understood what it felt like to have a throbbing headache.
"By the way, just how on earth did you take down that Ruinbark? Merciful heavens, when I first heard you slew that monster completely alone, my jaw hit the floor! Young Master Deleve praised you to the high heavens! Why on earth would someone of your caliber work as an academy teacher…… Oops, look at my mouth running away with itself! My apologies! Please forgive me! Anyway, when I heard such an incredible master was heading back, I volunteered on the spot to escort you to the capital! As it happens, my lover lives there too, hahaha!"
Information Ziel had not the slightest interest in knowing poured forth in a relentless deluge.
"We've been courting for about three years now! She's exceptionally gorgeous! A bit haughty and aloof, but that's what made me fall head over heels for her!"
"Is that so."
"She's been a little hard to reach lately, though…… I suppose she's just busy with family matters, hahaha! Anyhow, I'm actually planning to get married next year! Do you have a lover, Instructor? Looking at your face, honestly, it wouldn't be strange if you had two or three lovers lined up……"
After summoning every ounce of his legendary assassin's patience, Ziel finally managed to interject a single sentence.
"You talk quite a lot, Sir Gunter."
"Hahaha! I hear that all the time! I talk a bit much, don't I?"
"A very great deal."
"Can't be helped! My entire family is born chatterboxes! But hey, at least you won't be bored for a single second on the road, so rest easy! Honestly, how on earth did you make that long trek down here all by yourself without dying of boredom? If I don't have someone to chat with, I can't stand it for even five minutes! Well, except when I'm sleeping, of course!"
The road back to the capital was already shaping up to be an excruciating ordeal.
I would almost prefer it if the Tollen Merchant Guild ambushed us right now.
Even Ziel, it seemed, had a weakness.