Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 99: Another win

Chapter 99: Another win

Gale sat across from me, his fingers steepled as he studied the board. The moment had shifted—this was no longer a test for the students. It was a battle of pride. The murmurs from the watching crowd had settled into an expectant hush, waiting for the true match to begin.

Nicholas stood near the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He hadn’t interfered when I had changed the rules, nor did he seem inclined to now. Whether that was because he found this amusing or simply didn’t care was unclear.

Gale finally moved his first piece. A conservative opening, the kind that allowed flexibility. He wasn’t underestimating me. Good.

I mirrored his move, keeping my expression neutral. The opening exchanges were slow, calculated. Neither of us committed too heavily, each probing for weaknesses. Gale played methodically, controlling the center of the board while keeping his crown well-guarded. A standard, disciplined approach.

The first ten turns passed in silence, a quiet rhythm of placement and counter-placement.

Then I broke the pattern.

I sacrificed a piece—not an obvious one, but something that forced a decision. He could take the bait and gain a temporary advantage, or ignore it and risk me setting up a deeper play. Gale’s gaze flickered over the board. He hesitated.

Then he took the bait.

I suppressed a smile. His move gave me a foothold. Small, but enough.

The tempo of the match shifted. I pressed forward, using feints and diversions to create openings. Gale adjusted well, as expected. He wasn’t just skilled—he was experienced. His counterplay was sharp, denying me easy momentum. But the difference between us wasn’t just experience. It was adaptability.

Gale played to control the game.

I played to dismantle his control.

Ten more moves, and cracks appeared in his formation. Small weaknesses, barely perceptible. But I saw them. Exploited them.

Gale’s expression remained composed, but I caught the tightening of his jaw. He saw it too—saw the slow, inevitable collapse forming in his position. He tried to shift strategies, abandoning defense for aggression. A desperate gambit to break my momentum.

I let him think it was working.

Then I closed the trap.

Three moves later, his crown was cut off, caged with no legal moves.

"Checkmate."

The silence was heavy. Then, murmurs spread through the crowd—some amazed, some disbelieving. My students, however, had no such hesitation.

Julien let out a sharp laugh. "That was brutal."

Mira smirked. "Didn’t even give him a chance."

Felix blinked. "I thought he was winning for a second."

Leo shook his head. "So did he."

Gale remained still for a moment, staring at the board as if running the match back through his mind. Then he exhaled through his nose and leaned back.

"Well played."

I shrugged. "You too."

He studied me for a second longer before standing. The tension in his posture had eased—not gone entirely, but enough. The match had been a test in more ways than one.

With a final glance at the board, Gale turned to the assembled students. "That concludes today’s challenge. Class C is the victor."

The students erupted in a mix of cheers and groans. Julien pumped a fist. "Hell yeah!"

Evelyn, Gale’s student, approached him with a quiet sigh. "I should have won my round."

He shook his head. "It wouldn’t have changed the outcome."

She frowned slightly but didn’t argue.

Nicholas finally spoke. "An interesting display." He stepped forward, glancing at me. "You have an unorthodox way of handling things, Instructor Drelmont."

I smiled. "I find it effective."

He made a thoughtful sound. "We’ll see if it remains so."

A vague statement, but one that carried weight. The Academy was not a place where victories were easily won, and every gain made enemies as quickly as allies.

Still, for today, I would take the win.

The students began to disperse, talking amongst themselves. Julien slapped my back. "You should play more often. That was ridiculous."

"I don’t play for fun."

He grinned. "Even better. That means I won’t feel bad when I beat you one day."

I gave him a flat look. "That day isn’t coming."

Mira snorted. "Let him dream."

With the event concluded, I gathered my students and began leading them back toward the Academy. The thrill of the match faded as my mind turned to more pressing matters. This challenge had been a statement, but it had also placed a target on my back.

Gale wouldn’t forget this.

Neither would anyone else who had been watching.

Gale’s fingers tapped against the edge of the table, his smirk never fading. "I must admit, I wasn’t expecting this outcome."

I rolled my shoulders, resting my chin on one hand. "That’s the thing about expectations. They’re so easy to disappoint."

The crowd had grown utterly silent. Students and faculty alike watched as Gale took his seat across from me. Evelyn’s loss had shaken their confidence, and now, with a professor stepping in, the weight of the challenge had shifted entirely.

Julien leaned down behind me, grinning. "Get him, Professor."

I waved him off. "Go celebrate your loss elsewhere, smartass."

He laughed, but I caught the flicker of relief in his eyes. He hadn’t expected to win, but he had trusted that I had a plan. And he was right.

The board was reset. The pieces arranged in their proper places. Gale studied me as I tapped my fingers on the table in thought.

"You do realize," Gale murmured, "that if you lose here, it will reflect poorly on your class."

I snorted. "You say that like I care."

His smirk widened slightly. "Then let’s begin."

He played his first move, sliding a piece forward. Classic opening. Safe. Measured. I took my time responding, shifting a piece into place and setting the tone for the match.

Unlike Evelyn, Gale didn’t hesitate. He played swiftly, decisively, each move made with confidence. This was a game he had mastered over years, and he wielded it like a blade.

But I wasn’t planning to fight him on equal footing.

At first, I mirrored his aggression, matching him move for move. The crowd leaned in, watching each shift of the board with anticipation. Gale’s strategy was sharp, honed from countless matches, but that was the problem—he played like someone who had trained against equals.

I didn’t fight fair.

The first time I made a seemingly reckless move, the crowd murmured. Gale’s smirk deepened, no doubt thinking I had made a mistake.

Then I did it again.

And again.

He frowned slightly, adjusting, but I kept shifting unpredictably, making aggressive plays that seemed to leave my defenses open. To any experienced player, it looked like I was setting myself up for failure.

But that was the trick.

Gale was good—too good. He was used to playing people who followed the proper flow of the game, people who planned meticulously and countered precisely. He wasn’t used to playing against someone who didn’t care about conventional wisdom.

And so, little by little, he adapted—but too slowly.

I controlled the tempo, forced him to react rather than dictate. He played defensively, looking for ways to exploit my openings, but those openings were deliberate, leading him into positions where his choices became narrower and narrower.

The crowd started to notice. The murmurs grew louder as my strategy unfolded. Gale’s expression remained composed, but his moves became more cautious, his confidence subtly eroding.

Then, finally, the moment arrived.

I placed my piece.

The board shifted.

Checkmate.

Silence stretched across the clearing. Gale stared at the board for a long moment, his fingers still hovering over his last piece.

Julien was the first to react. He let out a sharp laugh, clapping his hands. "No way."

Mira smirked. "He lost."

Leo blinked. "Professor just beat him at his own game."

The realization sank in, rippling through the onlookers. Whispers spread. A faculty member—one of the most well-regarded strategists—had just been defeated by an instructor from Class C.

By me.

I leaned back, stretching. "Good game."

Gale exhaled slowly, then chuckled. "Indeed. That was... unexpected."

He met my gaze, and for the first time, I saw something other than amusement in his eyes. Something thoughtful. Calculating.

I had just made myself a target.

But that was fine.

I stood, nodding toward my students. "Come on. We’ve got work to do."

Julien was practically bouncing on his feet. "That was insane."

Mira smirked. "Guess we’re not as useless as people think, huh?"

I glanced back at Gale, who was watching me with unreadable eyes. This wasn’t over. I had won today, but he wasn’t the type to let something like this slide.

That was fine, too.

I didn’t mind a challenge.

As we walked away, Julien nudged me. "Professor, I gotta ask... did you actually know what you were doing back there, or were you just winging it?"

I gave him a slow, knowing smile. "What do you think?"

His expression twisted. "That’s not an answer!"

I chuckled, ruffling his hair as he protested. The truth was, it didn’t matter. I had won.

And in this academy, that was all that mattered.

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