Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 103: Fight

Chapter 103: Fight

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls. The scent of charred wood mingled with the dampness of the stone, creating an oddly comforting aroma. My students sat around the flames, their faces illuminated by the warm glow, each lost in their own thoughts.

Felix, ever the restless one, broke the silence. "Professor, do you think we’ll ever get used to this life? The constant danger, the unpredictability?"

I looked at him, noting the genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Adaptability is a part of our training. Over time, you learn to anticipate the unexpected, to find comfort in the chaos."

Mira smirked. "Felix getting philosophical? Now I’ve seen everything."

Felix shrugged, a playful grin on his face. "Just trying to keep things interesting."

Julien chuckled. "Well, you’re succeeding."

I allowed myself a small smile. Despite the challenges, moments like these reminded me of the bond we shared. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will test us in ways we can’t yet foresee."

As the fire dwindled and the cave grew quiet, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The battle ahead would be unlike any we’ve faced before. But with this group, I held onto hope.

The first light of dawn crept into the cave, casting a pale glow over my sleeping students. I rose quietly, the cool air biting against my skin. Stepping outside, I took a deep breath, the crispness of the morning filling my lungs. Today was the day.

One by one, they emerged from the cave, their expressions a mix of determination and apprehension. Felix stretched, yawning loudly. "So, what’s the plan, Professor?"

I glanced at each of them, noting the resolve in their eyes. "We stick to our strategy. Stay together, watch each other’s backs, and remember our training."

Mira nodded. "And if things go south?"

"We adapt," I replied firmly. "Trust in each other."

As we made our way to the designated battleground, the weight of the upcoming challenge settled over us. The terrain was as Wallace had predicted: a vast basin with natural chokepoints and minimal cover. Other teams were already gathering, their murmurs filling the air.

The Blue Bird’s voice echoed once more. <"Participants, take your positions. The battle will commence shortly.">

We formed a tight circle, each of us scanning the surroundings. Garrick clenched his fists, a fierce gleam in his eyes. "Let’s show them what Class C is made of."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "Remember, it’s not about brute strength. Strategy will win this."

As the final moments ticked away, I took a deep breath, centering myself. The calm before the storm. Then, with a resounding chime, the battle began.

Chaos erupted around us. Teams clashed, spells illuminated the air, and the ground trembled with the force of combat. We moved as one, navigating the battlefield with precision.

Leo darted ahead, scouting for threats. "Two teams converging from the east," he reported.

"Wallace, prepare the explosives," I ordered. "We’ll funnel them into the ravine."

He nodded, setting the charges along the narrow path. As the opposing teams approached, we lured them in. With a signal, Wallace detonated the explosives, cutting off their advance and forcing a retreat.

Felix laughed, exhilarated. "That worked like a charm!"

"Stay focused," Mira snapped. "This is far from over."

Hours passed, the battle ebbing and flowing. We faced numerous opponents, each encounter testing our limits. Injuries accumulated, fatigue set in, but we pressed on.

At one point, Cassandra found herself separated, surrounded by a rival team. Without hesitation, we moved to her aid. Garrick led the charge, his sheer presence scattering their formation. Together, we fought them off, ensuring no one was left behind.

As the sun began its descent, the battlefield grew quieter. Teams had been eliminated, the once chaotic arena now eerily still. Only a handful remained.

We gathered, catching our breaths, assessing our condition. Bruised, battered, but unbroken.

The Blue Bird’s voice resonated once more. <"Remaining participants, prepare for the final phase.">

I met the eyes of each student, pride swelling within me. "No matter what happens next, know that you’ve made me proud."

Felix grinned, despite the cut on his cheek. "Let’s finish this."

With renewed determination, we faced the unknown challenges ahead, ready to prove that Class C was a force to be reckoned with.

The arena had shifted.

Where once there were open hills and narrow ravines, now we stood in a shrouded woodland. Thick fog curled around the trees like writhing fingers, dampening sound and sight alike. I could barely see my own hand if I stretched it too far. The air hung heavy, smelling of iron and moss.

I gathered my students close. "Stay sharp. This is the final phase. Expect traps. Expect ambushes."

Julien squinted into the haze. "Feels like we’re walking straight into a horror story."

"You’re not wrong," I muttered.

We moved cautiously, weapons ready. Wallace and Leo flanked us, their steps light. Felix was behind me, humming nervously—too loudly. I gave him a look and he zipped his mouth shut.

Then I heard it—light footfalls, deliberately quiet but not quiet enough. I raised a hand.

"Positions," I whispered.

My students shifted wordlessly into formation, backs to one another, forming a defensive circle. The fog thickened, as if responding to tension.

Then I saw them.

Figures emerged from the mist, at least seven, clad in dark-blue sleeveless tunics. Their uniforms bore the insignia of Class B. One of the boys dragged a wooden club over the ground, its metal-studded end scratching the dirt with a slow, deliberate screech. He smiled like a beast that had just scented blood.

"Class C," the leader of the group said, stepping forward. He had long black hair tied behind his back, and his eyes held a predator’s gleam. "Been lookin’ for you."

"Say your piece," I said. "Then leave."

He snorted. "Funny. I was gonna say the same thing. But since you’re here... we might as well play."

He snapped his fingers.

The fog erupted in motion—Class B lunged forward like wolves released from a cage. No war cries. Just sharp, efficient violence.

Garrick met one head-on, catching a blow with his bracers and countering with a brutal elbow to the jaw. The boy crumpled, but another was already on him.

Julien parried two incoming attacks at once, dancing backward while Mira covered him with a flash of blinding light magic. Felix dove into the mist, vanishing completely. Good. That meant he was using his stealth techniques.

I blocked a downward strike from one of them and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into a tree.

They weren’t holding back.

"Spread out!" I shouted. "We’ll get picked off if we stay bunched!"

The fog was our enemy—and theirs too. We just had to use it better.

Wallace threw a handful of white powder into the air. It exploded into a harmless burst of heatless fire, outlining a couple of attackers in silhouette.

"Targets, ten o’clock!" Wallace called.

I moved fast, intercepting a tall girl swinging dual daggers. Her form was tight, controlled. She was experienced. I ducked beneath a slash, stepped inside her guard, and struck her in the ribs with the hilt of my blade. She gasped and dropped, winded.

Cassandra moved like a ghost beside me, cutting through the mist with precise, fluid strikes. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.

A scream rang out to our right—Leo.

"Professor!" he yelled. "They’re flanking!"

"Garrick! Julien! Hold the line!" I barked.

They moved as one. Julien launched a projectile, a burst of crackling energy, just as Garrick leapt forward and body-slammed one of the Class B students trying to sneak around.

For a moment, we held. Then the fog shifted.

Not naturally.

A pulse of magic radiated outward, and suddenly our visibility dropped to nothing. I couldn’t see my own feet. The air felt cold, colder than before. My breath came out in clouds. I heard movement—multiple directions—but it was all distorted, muffled, like we were underwater.

Illusion magic.

Smart.

"Stick to your partners!" I yelled. "Don’t trust your eyes!"

It was chaos.

I found myself separated. A figure loomed before me—one of Class B, I thought—until it wasn’t. It was Felix, ducking behind me just in time to avoid a dagger swipe from the side.

"Two on me!" he panted. "They’re fast!"

"I’ve got one," I muttered.

We danced together in the fog, backs to each other. One of the assailants charged. I sidestepped and let him overshoot before slamming him into a tree with a shoulder tackle. The other slipped around and tried to flank Felix, but he vanished in a shimmer of light—his phase step. He reappeared behind his attacker and swept their legs.

Class B was aggressive. But aggressive meant reckless.

They weren’t fighting as a unit. They were chasing blood.

That was their mistake.

From the left, I heard Garrick bellow like a war horn. "Two down! Who’s next?!"

Mira’s voice came immediately after. "Don’t taunt them, idiot!"

I allowed myself a breath of satisfaction.

We were winning.

Slowly, methodically, like a knife turning in a wound, we were carving through the mist.

But then I heard it.

A low whistle—sharp, clear.

And everything changed.

A new group stepped through the fog. Five of them. Not just Class B students.

The elites.

I recognized one of them: Varron. The top student in Class B. A close-combat specialist known for breaking bones with his bare hands and grinning while he did it.

He looked at me like a lion spotting prey. "Lucian, right? The so-called ’mercenary professor.’ Finally get to see what you’re made of."

"You talk too much," I said coolly.

"I break things better than I talk."

He rushed.

Fast. Almost too fast. I had half a second to bring my blade up as his fist slammed into it. The impact jarred through my arms, and I slid back a full step.

This was going to be a problem.

He struck again, and I parried, just barely keeping up with his speed.

Behind me, I heard Cassandra clash with another of the elites—her blade singing through the air with deadly precision. Garrick tried to bull rush one, but was caught in a grappling hold and slammed down. Julien pulled him out just in time with a blast of energy.

These weren’t the same kind of Class B students we’d faced before.

These were monsters.

"Fall back! Regroup at the ridge!" I called out.

We moved, pulling back toward a narrow incline where the trees thinned. It gave us high ground, better visibility.

I could feel Varron pursuing me, hungry.

As we reached the ridge, I spun, meeting his next punch with a burst of force magic from my palm.

He flew backward.

I didn’t wait—I pounced, blade flashing, but he caught it in his bare hand and grinned through the blood dripping down his fingers.

"Finally!" he laughed.

This man was insane.

He swung again, and I ducked, letting his fist pass over my shoulder. I kicked out at his knee and followed it with a slash across his arm. He winced but didn’t stop.

Below, I could hear my students fighting for every inch.

Felix appeared at my side, panting, bruised. "Professor. We’re pushing them back. But we’re burning out fast."

"Hold a little longer."

"I don’t think we can."

And that was when I felt it.

A shift.

A ripple.

The Blue Bird’s voice pierced the chaos.

<"Enough. The trial is complete.">

A golden wave pulsed through the forest, dispelling the fog in an instant. Every combatant froze.

Class B staggered back, bloodied and exhausted. Class C was bruised, battered, but still standing.

We were still standing.

<"Class C—second highest performance rating in the final phase. Commendations granted.">

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Felix raised his hands weakly. "Did we just—?"

"We did," I confirmed.

Garrick let out a laugh. Mira sighed in relief. Cassandra finally spoke. "Let’s go home."

I nodded, wiping sweat and blood from my brow.

"Two more days," I said quietly. "Then we return to the academy. Together."

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