Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 128: Teaching method

Chapter 128: Teaching method

The morning sun hadn’t even finished climbing over the academy spires, and already Class C looked like they’d been dragged through a battlefield.

Julien stumbled onto the training field half-awake, dragging his coat and a croissant. Wallace trailed behind him, muttering something about reprogramming mana flow filters. Leo, of course, looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

Then came Felix. Proud. Upright. Eyes full of hope.

I narrowed mine. "Felix."

"Yes, Professor?"

"You wore your robe inside out."

He looked down. "No, I didn’t—"

I pointed. "Stitching’s on the outside. Tag’s flapping like a surrender flag. And unless the academy recently approved ’hobo chic’ as uniform standard, you’re breaking fashion laws."

"I-I woke up late!"

"Congratulations. You’re consistently disappointing before we even begin. Gold star for consistency."

Mira strolled in next, holding a stack of hex slips. "I brought party favors."

Cassandra followed silently, as usual, glancing at the spell-dummy rig I’d set up like she was already calculating where it would explode.

"Today’s theme is control," I said, turning to face them all. "As in: You controlling your spells. Not your spells controlling you."

Felix raised a hand. "What if it’s a mutual arrangement?"

"Then negotiate with your fireball when it sets your pants on fire."

I clapped once. Five rune sigils lit up behind me.

"Each of you gets a turn. The rune will react to your element. It’ll shift, twist, and mess with your output. Your job is to adjust. Fast. Or you blow up. Felix goes first."

He flinched. "Why me?!"

"Because you asked."

He stepped up, trembling. The rune pulsed. A flicker of his water spell built up—

—then shot straight up and splashed down on him.

He stood soaked. "That... wasn’t supposed to happen."

"You summoned a water curtain. For what, dramatic entrances?"

"I was trying to make a blade!"

"You made a splash. If I wanted a fountain, I’d summon one from the courtyard!"

Mira snorted. "At least he’s consistent."

Wallace tried next. His fire sputtered, caught, then burst wildly in all directions like a drunk sparkler.

He dived back with a scream.

"You overloaded the weave," I said. "Didn’t adjust for the flux. Tell me why."

"Because I... didn’t calibrate the delay node?"

"No. Because you’re a Gremlin with ambition and a death wish."

Cassandra went up next. Her dark energy lanced forward cleanly, controlled.

I blinked. "Didn’t even flinch."

She said nothing.

Mira whistled. "Show off."

"You’re next," I said.

"Oh joy."

She sent out a hex. The rune fought back, twisting it. Mira adjusted mid-cast, rerouted the curse, and blew up the dummy with a satisfied smile.

Julien followed with fire, sharp and quick—until the spell veered left and lit his own coat.

He patted it frantically. "Not again!"

"Congratulations," I said. "You’ve recreated last week. In full HD."

I turned to Leo.

He raised a hand. "Can I just... pass?"

"Leo."

"Professor."

"You pass when I’m dead."

He groaned but stepped forward, cast a small earth bulwark—

—which crumbled under its own weight.

"Ah yes," I said. "Behold! The mighty sand pile of protection. Your enemies shall tremble before its grainy indifference."

"Can’t I at least get points for trying?"

"Only if I’m drunk and blind. Which I’m not."

After two full hours of chaos, close calls, and Felix getting zapped by his own deflected spell again, I finally blew the whistle.

"That’s enough suffering for one morning. I’d say you’ve all improved—but that would be lying, and I try not to do that before lunch."

Mira waved her hex slips. "Can we at least test these?"

"No," I said. "Because if you do, I’ll end up writing incident reports while Leo cries in a corner, Wallace explodes, and Felix accidentally summons a fish again."

"That was once!"

"Once was already too many, Felix."

As they groaned and picked up their gear, I leaned against the training dummy, watching them go. Bruised. Burnt. Battered.

But slowly improving.

Even if I’d never say that to their faces.

Mockery worked. Pain worked better. But stubborn, chaotic effort? That got results.

And maybe—just maybe—they’d survive longer than two minutes next time.

Maybe.

The moment Class C began dragging their feet back across the field, I clapped again.

"Stop. Who gave you permission to leave?"

They froze. Julien groaned. Mira muttered something involving my funeral.

"Did I say ’training is over’? No. I said ’enough suffering for one morning.’ I didn’t say we were done. That was a warning. You thought it was the end. Classic mistake."

Wallace blinked. "So... that was the warm-up?"

"Warm-up?" I laughed. "That was your performance review."

Felix whimpered. "Oh no."

"Oh yes. And Felix, because I’m a generous man, you’re going again."

"But I just exploded!"

"Exactly! Let’s see if you can do it without detonating this time."

Felix shuffled up like a man on death row. His fingers trembled as he raised his hands. I swear even the spell-circle sighed in resignation.

He drew mana. It wobbled. His water spell condensed into... something?

A bubble.

A weak, jiggling sphere of sadness.

It hovered for a moment—then popped.

Everyone stared.

I broke the silence. "A soap bubble. You summoned a soap bubble."

Felix looked near tears. "I tried my best!"

"And your best should be arrested for magical negligence."

Wallace raised a hand. "Is that even a real charge?"

"It is now. I’m writing the law."

Julien stepped forward with a grin. "Mind if I redeem our dignity, Professor?"

"Sure," I said. "Just don’t set yourself on fire this time."

He exhaled, focused, and cast his flame.

And... success.

For about three seconds.

Then it bounced off the rune pattern, curved like a drunken boomerang—and clipped Felix in the back.

"GAAAAHHH!"

"Medic!" Wallace called.

"Wallace," I said, "you are the medic."

"Oh. Then I retract my concern."

Felix rolled in the dirt, patting out his robe. "WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME?!"

"Because," I said solemnly, "you’re the Academy’s designated test dummy."

Leo stepped forward, muttering darkly. "I’ll just die now and save everyone the trouble."

"No," I said. "You’ll try. Then die. There’s a process."

He summoned a weak tremor of earth... and tripped himself.

Flat on his face.

Julien gave him a thumbs-up. "Ten out of ten for dramatic form."

Mira laughed. "He’s competing with Felix for Most Pathetic."

"Wrong," I said. "Leo wins by style. Felix wins by volume."

Even Cassandra cracked the faintest ghost of a smile. That was practically a standing ovation from her.

I waved a hand. "Final round. Mira. Cassandra. Show the boys how not to embarrass their bloodline."

Mira casually flicked a hex into the dummy’s rune. It triggered the glyph, warped, twisted—

And she smirked, flowing her curse right along the curve.

Boom. Direct hit. Dummy gone.

Cassandra stepped up silently. Her spell came cold, efficient, and precise. No theatrics. Just results.

Two hits. Both landed.

Everyone stared.

Julien sighed. "They’re cheating."

"They’re not," I said. "You’re just... biologically allergic to success."

I clapped my hands.

"That’s it for today. Congratulations. You’ve all managed to disappoint me in new and innovative ways."

Felix groaned. "Will we ever be good enough?"

"No," I said. "But one day, you’ll be less bad. That’s progress."

Leo mumbled, "This class is a cry for help."

"Then cry louder," I said, walking past them. "You’ve still got detention tomorrow."

"WHAT?"

"Practice makes pitiful," I said, smiling.

Behind me, I heard someone scream into the sky.

Perfect.