Villainous Instructor at the Academy

The clearing at the center of the forest was alive with the sounds of chatter and the scent of roasted meat. Fires crackled, casting flickering shadows over long wooden tables stacked with food. The feast marked the end of the first three days of survival camp—the hardest part. Tomorrow, there would be no trials, just rest and reward distribution.

My class and I walked into the clearing, drawing more than a few stares. Some were curious, others outright hostile. But none burned hotter than the glares coming from three particular figures standing off to the side: Professors Halloran, Kellan, and Gale.

Kellan’s appearance was especially amusing. His usually well-groomed hair was scorched, uneven patches of burnt strands sticking out in wild tufts. The sight made me smirk.

Then Kellan’s lips curled into a sneer. "Look at him. The great Professor Drelmont." His voice dripped with mockery. "A coward who ran away instead of fighting."

That got the attention of nearby students. Conversations slowed as heads turned toward us.

I tilted my head. "Oh? You sound upset, Kellan. Maybe it’s the burnt hair talking."

The jab earned a few stifled laughs from my class, but Kellan ignored them, his eyes locked onto mine. "You ran, Drelmont. You didn’t fight, didn’t prove yourself. Just tucked your tail between your legs and left others to handle the real threats. That’s who you are."

Ah. So this was the angle he was going for. Trying to discredit me in front of the students.

I let out a slow exhale, then turned to my class. "Julien," I said casually, "remind me—who was it that tried to kill me during the scavenger hunt?"

Julien grinned. "That’d be Kellan, sir."

I nodded. "And what happened to him?"