Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 140: Beneath the rock

Chapter 140: Beneath the rock

Our rest was short. Not by choice. The air never truly settled. The heat clung to our lungs like dust, and the walls of the mine pulsed ever so faintly—as if something far below had a heartbeat.

Felix was the last to get up, dragging his feet like a man about to be executed.

"You’re not dying yet," I told him as I passed, "unless you’ve figured out how to die quietly."

"Can’t you at least pretend this isn’t suicide?" he whined.

"Sure. Let’s all play pretend." I flashed him a grin. "You’re brave, I’m merciful, and this place isn’t cursed. Everyone wins."

We made our way down a narrower tunnel, carved more recently. The walls had strange symbols etched into them—faint, incomplete, half-scrubbed off by time or intention.

Mira ran her fingers across one. "These aren’t mining marks."

"No," I said. "They’re binding glyphs. Partial, unstable. Someone sealed something here."

Julien let out a slow breath. "And someone else unsealed it."

A low rumble passed through the ground. Not an explosion. Not even a tremor. Just a warning.

Cassandra’s eyes flicked toward the stone ahead. "It’s watching."

I didn’t ask what. She was usually right about this stuff.

The tunnel widened suddenly, revealing an open chamber—roughly circular, filled with collapsed beams, scattered tools, and at the center, a stone altar long swallowed by soot and ash.

"Well, that’s not ominous," Wallace muttered.

"No," I said. "That’s a boss room."

"You’re joking."

I stepped forward, glancing at the remains of the altar. Runes flickered beneath the grime, dim red embers burning under old patterns. Not alive. Not dead either.

It wasn’t in the original game. Not like this. Not this deep, not this intact.

I didn’t like it.

"Prepare for combat," I ordered. "This thing doesn’t breathe, doesn’t bleed, and probably doesn’t care how scared you are."

Felix whimpered. Julien cracked his knuckles. Garrick stepped forward like a man ready to punch a mountain.

"Formation B," I said. "Mira, suppress. Wallace, traps. Everyone else—watch each other’s backs. No heroes. No cowards. Just survive."

Cassandra stayed at the rear, eyes locked on the altar. She didn’t speak, but her fingers traced the edge of her sleeve. Something was off.

Then, the air cracked.

Not a roar. Not magic.

Just a voice—rasping, cold, old.

"Another offering."

The altar pulsed.

I drew my blade.

"Let’s see what lies under this mine’s skin."

The air rippled.

Not like wind. More like breath. Something exhaled, but nothing was there. Just shadows, heat, and the faint metallic stench of magic long buried and poorly sealed.

Wallace was already scattering those little flasks of his—red clay vials with copper fuses and runes carved in desperation. They weren’t pretty, but they worked. Usually.

"Traps set," he muttered.

"Stay alive long enough to enjoy your handiwork," I said.

Julien shifted beside me, blade drawn, eyes locked ahead. Garrick stood like a wall next to him. Mira whispered under her breath—dark magic coiling lazily between her fingers like smoke.

The altar pulsed again.

A figure rose from the ash. Humanoid. Faceless. Limbs too long. Made of the same soot and grime that coated the mine itself.

"Nope," Felix said.

"Yes," I snapped. "That’s your trauma with legs. Focus."

It didn’t move like a creature. It glided—each step silent, leaving no mark on the stone. My instincts screamed. Not natural. Not scripted. This wasn’t some beast.

This thing was watching us think.

I stepped forward.

"I’ll draw it. Mira, hit it hard. Wallace, light it up when it closes. Julien, don’t get cocky. Garrick, keep the others safe."

"What about me?" Felix asked.

"Try not to soil yourself."

The thing lunged. No sound. Just a blur of soot and hate.

I met it head-on, sword clashing against its limb—not metal, not bone. It felt like cutting through wet cloth wrapped around fury.

My blade hissed—ignition runes flaring. The bastard burned. It staggered, but didn’t scream. Didn’t bleed.

Mira’s curse lanced across the air, cracking against its chest. Wallace’s traps went off—flashfire and shrapnel tearing into its shadowy form.

Julien moved like a predator, slashing low. Garrick crushed its shoulder with a swing that echoed through the chamber.

It fell back. Then froze.

Its faceless head turned toward Felix, who had been valiantly hiding behind a rock.

"Oh no," he whispered. "Don’t—"

It rushed him.

"FELIX, MOVE!"

He didn’t.

So I did.

Shadow Step kicked in. The world blurred—I slid through darkness and slammed into the thing just as it raised a jagged limb. My shoulder cracked from the force, but the impact threw it off balance.

It turned to me.

And that was a mistake.

I grinned. "Wrong target."

The next strike came from all sides—Julien from the left, Garrick from the right, Mira’s curse from above.

Wallace lit the ground beneath it with a glyph-triggered blast.

When the dust settled, the figure was gone. Not slain. Dispersed.

I panted. Blood trickled from my arm. "Everyone okay?"

"Alive," Julien said.

"I peed a little," Felix added.

"Good," I muttered. "Means you’re not dead inside yet."

But Cassandra hadn’t moved. She was staring at the altar. Still. Eyes distant.

"Cassandra?"

Her lips moved, barely audible. "It wasn’t meant to wake."

I walked over. "You saw something?"

She nodded slowly. "It called it a fragment. Just one piece. The rest is still dreaming."

My stomach twisted.

Just one?

"Then we’re sealing this chamber," I said. "No further. No deeper."

Julien kicked at the soot. "So what the hell was that?"

I looked back at the altar.

And I didn’t say it aloud.

But I remembered a line from the game’s lore books.

"The stone remembers the blood it drank."

And this mine was very, very thirsty.

We didn’t speak much on the way back.

Even the usual complaints from Leo were replaced with glances over his shoulder. That silence—the wary kind, the kind that creeps into your bones and whispers that you aren’t alone—followed us like a second shadow.

We made it out of the mine just as the last of the sun dipped behind the cliffs. Orange light spilled over the ridge, but it didn’t warm us. Not this time.

The moment we stepped past the wards, I slammed a rune against the stone archway. Old script. Barrier type. It hissed as it activated, lines burning deep violet.

Wallace raised a brow. "Was that one of yours or something you pulled out of the Grimoire?"

"Mine," I muttered. "The Grimoire’s for patterns. This one’s just stubborn paranoia."

"Useful paranoia," Mira added, arms crossed.

"Exactly." I turned to face them. "No one goes back in. That fragment was no ordinary relic. If the academy wants to investigate, let them send a specialist. We’re not touching that thing again."

Julien cracked his neck. "You think there are more?"

I didn’t answer.

Felix broke the tension, voice high and hopeful. "So... mission success?"

I stared at him. "You tripped over three traps. Almost got possessed. Screamed when the smoke moved. And somehow insulted the local spirits."

"I... tried?"

"You did," I nodded slowly. "Tried your hardest to die."

He deflated like a punctured flask.

I turned to the rest. "But yes. We cleared the infestation. We discovered something very nasty that shouldn’t have been unearthed. We survived. I call that a win."

Wallace chuckled. "Barely."

"Barely still counts."

We made camp on the outer ridge that night. I didn’t trust the air down there. Too thick. Too quiet.

I kept first watch.

The stars were out. Cold and sharp. Like things watching from above.

Cassandra approached, silent as ever.

She sat beside me, close but not too close. Her eyes reflected the firelight, unreadable as always.

"It followed us," she said, voice soft.

"What did?"

"The whisper."

My fingers twitched toward my blade. "You’re sure?"

She nodded. "It’s not loud. Just... waiting."

I didn’t like that.

Before I could reply, a scroll flared to life near the fire. The academy’s seal burned into the air—notification format.

Mira plucked it up, read it, then tossed it to me.

"Guess they noticed," she said.

I scanned it.

Instructor Lucian Drelmont, Class C’s report regarding Black Stone Mission has been received. Based on findings, further exploration has been postponed.

You are instructed to return for debrief and submit a written anomaly report within 48 hours.

– Noctis Ardentis Academy, External Operations Division

Standard procedure. But I could read between the lines.

We stepped into something bigger.

Something the academy didn’t expect. Or maybe... hoped to ignore.

"Think they’ll listen?" Garrick asked from across the fire.

"No," I said honestly. "But we’ll do our part."

And if they ignore us...

Well, I’d deal with that when the time came.

Behind me, the mine entrance pulsed faintly under the seal rune.

Like something breathing.

Like something waiting.

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