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.