Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 116: A book

Chapter 116: A book

The tribunal room fell into a tense, suffocating silence as I made my case. The members of the Council, robed in their meticulously arranged garments, exchanged glances, their faces unreadable. The air in the chamber was thick with the kind of formality that could strangle a lesser man, but I had long grown used to navigating this sort of environment.

"Lucian Drelmont," said Archmagister Vellorin, his voice a measured blend of authority and suspicion, "you stand accused of fostering an environment where students are pushed to the edge of their abilities. You claim this to be progress. Do you truly believe your unorthodox methods are a step forward?"

I leaned back in my chair, the weight of their collective scrutiny pressing down on me like a hundred tons of stone. "Progress is rarely neat, is it? If you want a polished, safe education, then you might as well keep them locked in a room full of books. My students learn by surviving. They thrive because they face real challenges—real consequences."

A flicker of motion passed through the Council. There was something in my words that hit too close to home for some of them. Some exchanged glances, some adjusted their robes, and others simply stared at me, the expressions behind their veils unreadable. I could see it in their eyes: the fear of letting go of control.

"What would you call a situation where students—" Gale interrupted, his voice dripping with that characteristic edge of snide disdain, "—are encouraged to take dangerous risks? Pushing them to the brink could easily result in disaster, and you’ve already gone to great lengths to show us that your approach to ’teaching’ is one of manipulation."

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. His words were sharp, but not sharp enough. "Manipulation? I wouldn’t call it manipulation, Gale. I call it ’adaptation under pressure.’ Their lives are in their hands, not mine. If they succeed, it’s because they earned it. If they fail, they learn to pick themselves up. Not every lesson should be sugarcoated with comfort. They need something real."

"Real? You would sacrifice their safety for your personal views?" Gale’s voice grew louder. I could see him itching for a fight, but I wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction.

"You seem to be missing the point," I replied, leaning forward with a calculating calmness. "I haven’t sacrificed anyone. They’ve survived."

The silence that followed my statement lingered longer than I would’ve liked, but it worked in my favor. I needed them to understand one thing: I wasn’t just another instructor. I wasn’t some puppet of bureaucracy, performing for their convenience. I wasn’t here to coddle anyone. I was here to prepare them for what awaited them outside the walls of this academy.

"My students entered Black Stone Mountain with nothing but their wits and a handful of basic supplies," I continued. "They came back alive. They came back stronger. That’s all that matters. Results. Real results."

The Council murmured amongst themselves, exchanging thoughts and concerns too muffled for me to catch. I stood my ground, confident that I had made my case. It was quiet for a long while, until Vellorin, who had remained silent through the exchange, finally spoke.

"We will deliberate on this matter and notify you of our decision shortly," he said, his tone neutral, yet carrying the weight of finality.

I nodded without a word. That was as much as I expected.

The session adjourned, and the Council members filed out of the chamber, their robes sweeping the floor in unison. As I made my way toward the exit, I felt the eyes of my students following me. They were quiet now, all except for Felix, who fidgeted nervously.

"Professor..." Felix began hesitantly, his voice barely a whisper. "Do you think we’ll actually be expelled?"

I glanced over my shoulder at him. "No. You’ve proven yourselves more than capable. Don’t worry about that."

Garrick, who had been unusually silent throughout the hearing, let out a low chuckle. "I’m not too worried about us. You, though..." He grinned. "You’ve got a knack for pushing people’s buttons."

"Just keep your heads in the game," I said, giving him a wry smile. "We’ve got bigger problems to deal with."

As I walked through the empty halls of the academy, my thoughts lingered on the hearing, but they quickly drifted to something else. The Black Stone Mountain quest was behind me, but something else had been weighing on my mind: that strange book I had received from the library just before the hearing.

It had been tucked away, barely noticeable amongst the other ancient tomes, until the moment I laid my hands on it. A dusty, old thing with no markings, no title—only a name written in bold, old script on the front cover.

Caspian Arvell.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t remember ever hearing it before. There was no mention of it in any of the known records I had studied, and yet the book had felt... significant. As if it were calling to me.

I hadn’t opened it yet. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was important.

When I reached my quarters, I set the book down on the desk, staring at the name. "Caspian Arvell," I murmured to myself. There was no explanation, no context, just the name.

I knew better than to ignore such things.

My fingers hovered over the cover, the weight of the moment thick in the air. Slowly, carefully, I opened the book.

The first page was blank. Then the next. Then the next. No words, no illustrations—just blank pages, each one an empty canvas. But as I flipped through the pages, I began to notice something strange: some of the pages weren’t quite... blank. There were faint, translucent patterns on them—runes, but ones I didn’t recognize. The markings shifted as I stared at them, rearranging themselves like some kind of coded message, but no matter how hard I tried to focus, it was impossible to decode them.

A chill crawled up my spine. This was no ordinary book. I could feel it. Whatever this was, it had ties to something ancient. Something hidden. And now it was in my hands.

I slammed the book shut, my mind racing. There was no time to investigate further now—not with the tribunal still lingering in the back of my mind. But one thing was certain: Caspian Arvell had to mean something. He had to.

And whatever it was, I was going to find out.

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