Villainous Instructor at the Academy-Chapter 11: Drinking Party

Faculty Lounge.

The lounge was louder than I expected.

Instructors clustered around tables, laughing too hard at bad jokes, slamming mugs against wood, and pretending they weren't drowning in stress. The air smelled like alcohol and roasted meat, and a faint haze of smoke clung to the ceiling.

I stepped inside, already regretting it.

Roderick led the way, weaving through the crowd like he belonged there. I, on the other hand, got more than a few looks. Some curious. Some amused. Some outright suspicious.

Great. Exactly what I needed.

"Instructor Drelmont."

A familiar voice.

I turned my head. Alexander Gale.

Tall, polished, and radiating that effortless arrogance highbloods seemed to be born with. He was draped in a deep blue coat lined with silver, his long black hair tied neatly behind him. If I remembered right, he was one of the more influential instructors here—good with a blade, better with politics.

"Gale" I kept my tone neutral.

He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Roderick clapped me on the back. "Dragged him out myself."

Gale's gaze flicked between us. Calculating. "I see. That's... surprising."

I raised an eyebrow. "That I have friends?"

"That you leave your room."

Tch. Smug bastard.

Before I could respond, another voice cut in.

"You're late, Drelmont."

Instructor Gregor Callahan. Former mercenary, still built like one. He had a scar running down his left cheek and an attitude that matched. He was already holding a mug, half-empty.

I gave him a flat look. "Didn't know there was a schedule."

"There is when you owe me money."

Ah. Right. The old Lucian had been a gambler. A bad one.

I sighed. "How much?"

Gregor grinned. "One round for the table."

Roderick chuckled. "That's what you get for skipping drinking nights."

I muttered a curse under my breath but waved a hand to the barkeep. "Fine. One round. Then we're even."

"For now."

I ignored that.

The drinks came fast. The conversation faster. Talk of duels, academy politics, the latest noble scandals. I kept quiet, letting the others do the work. It was safer that way.

But Gale? He was still watching me.

"So, Lucian," he said, swirling his drink, "I've been hearing things."

I took a slow sip. "Congratulations."

He smiled. "About you."

Ah. Of course.

"So is it true" he continued, "That you have been visiting brothels regularly?"

I almost choked on my drink.

The table went silent.

Roderick blinked. Gregor raised an eyebrow. A few other instructors nearby turned their heads, clearly interested.

I set my mug down, exhaled through my nose, and gave Gale a slow, unimpressed look. "I'm sorry. Can you repeat that? I think my ears just failed me from the sheer stupidity of what you just said."

Gale's smile didn't waver. "Just curious. There have been... rumors."

Of course, there were. I wasn't an idiot. Lucian Drelmont wasn't exactly well-liked, and people loved gossip—especially when it made someone look worse.

I leaned back in my chair. "And let me guess, you were oh-so-concerned about my moral integrity, so you just had to ask?"

Gregor chuckled into his drink. Roderick smirked.

Gale's expression stayed perfectly smooth. "I simply thought it was interesting. After all, a teacher's reputation affects their students."

Ah. There it was. The polite, noble way of saying You're a disgrace.

I drummed my fingers against the table. "And where exactly did you hear this?"

Gale shrugged. "Word gets around."

Translation: I don't have proof, but I don't need it.

I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the silence drag just long enough to make him wonder. Then I set the mug down and met his gaze with a flat stare.

"You're a swordsman, right, Gale?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I am."

I smiled. "Then you should know how to identify a feint."

That got a reaction. Just a flicker—barely even a twitch in his expression—but I caught it.

"Rumors are like attacks," I continued, voice smooth. "Some are genuine. Others are just meant to see how you'll react."

I leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, Gale. If I had been doing something scandalous, what would you gain from knowing?"

His fingers tightened slightly around his mug.

He didn't like that question.

I smiled wider. "Or maybe the better question is—who wants you to ask?"

For the first time, Gale hesitated. Just for a moment.

Then he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You're sharper than usual, Drelmont."

I took another sip of my drink. "You should ask better questions."

The tension at the table cracked as Gregor laughed. "Damn, I was expecting a fight. Now I'm just disappointed."

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Roderick grinned. "Nah, that was better. Look at Gale, all thrown off his game."

Gale sighed, shaking his head with an amused—if slightly forced—smile."You're funny Drelmont, when your career is dependent on your students. If they screw-up once more then you'll be kicked out from here."

Ah. There it was. The real reason he was pushing.

I let the words hang in the air, swirling my drink as if I was actually considering them.

Gregor's grin faded slightly. Roderick frowned. The table wasn't loud anymore. The laughter in the background felt distant.

Gale leaned in, voice smooth. "Noctis Ardentis has its standards, after all. And with your class's recent... failures, well—" He spread his hands, feigning sympathy. "It's only a matter of time before the headmaster loses patience."

I tilted my head. "You sound almost excited."

Gale chuckled. "Not at all. I'm simply realistic. You have the worst class in the academy, Drelmont. Barely any noble backing, weak performances, and now—" his smile sharpened, "rumors. It doesn't look good."

Gregor exhaled through his nose, muttering, "Bastard's not wrong."

Roderick glanced at me, quiet.

I kept my expression neutral, but my mind was already running.

Gale wasn't just here to poke fun. He wanted me to slip. To lash out, to get defensive, to prove him right. He was waiting for a mistake.

I set my mug down with a thud.

"So?" I said.

Gale blinked. "So?"

I shrugged. "So what if I get kicked out?"

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

I leaned forward, voice casual. "Would you celebrate? Throw a little party? Maybe take my position for yourself?"

His smile twitched. "Now you're being dramatic."

"Am I?" I tilted my head. "You know about me. The worst instructor at the academy teaching the worst class called class C. If I fail, it's expected. No one will bat an eye." I tapped my fingers against the table. "But if I don't?"

Gale's expression didn't change, but I caught the flicker of something in his eyes.

"Let's be honest," I continued, my voice casual but edged. "Class C is a mess. Everyone's written it off as a joke. Even the students know they're expected to fail. But if I somehow turn them around, if I make something out of them..." I leaned in slightly. "Then what does that say about the rest of you?"

Roderick exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk. Gregor let out a low chuckle.

Gale's grip on his mug tightened just a little.

There it was. The real reason behind his prodding.

If I failed, nothing changed. But if I succeeded? If I made something of Class C? It wouldn't just be my reputation that shifted. It would call into question every other instructor who had dismissed them.

I let the silence stretch, watching him.

Then that familiar transparent window popped up infront of me.

___

<[System Log Updated]>

— Designation: Lucian Drelmont

— Status: Instructor (Noctis Ardentis Academy)

— Assignment: Class C

[Active Directives:]

— Maintain Instructor Status and gain the trust of Class C.

— Punch Instructor Alexander Gale. (New)

[Reward For Completion:]

— Book Of Alchemical Cuisine & Get Away Ticket +1

[Penalty For Failure:]

— Immediate Expulsion & ???

___

I stared at the system log for a moment, suppressing the urge to groan.

Punch Instructor Alexander Gale.

Seriously?

I wasn't opposed to the idea on principle—Gale had a very punchable face—but right here, right now? In the middle of the faculty lounge, with half the academy's instructors watching? That was practically career suicide.

Gale was still studying me, waiting for a reaction.

I exhaled slowly, dismissing the log for now. Focus.

"You're awfully invested in my future, Gale." I gave him a slow, measured look. "Why is that?"

He tilted his head, as if amused. "Is it wrong to take an interest in my colleagues?"

"Depends on the kind of interest." I tapped my fingers against the table. "And considering how much effort you're putting into reminding me I'm doomed, it almost feels personal."

Gregor snorted. "He's got a point."

Gale didn't even glance at him. His attention stayed on me, his smile unwavering. "I just like keeping things predictable, Drelmont. And you? You've been... unpredictable, lately."

Translation: You were supposed to fail quietly.

I hummed, sipping my drink. "I see. So this is you trying to nudge me back in line?"

He chuckled. "Call it... professional advice."

Yeah, sure. And I was the Emperor of Radiance.

The system log still hovered in the back of my mind. The last time I ignored a directive, I got hit with a penalty. But was I really supposed to throw a punch here?

...Wait.

It didn't specify how I had to punch him. Just that I had to.

I glanced at my nearly empty mug, then at Gale's perfectly smug face.

Well, If I caused a problem after drinking they won't suspect much because of Lucian's shitty personality.

I took another sip of my drink, weighing my options. The system wanted me to punch Gale, but it didn't say how hard.

A full-on swing? Stupid. Even the orginal Lucian wasn't that reckless enough to throw a punch in the middle of the faculty lounge. But an accident? A drunken slip? That was easy enough to fake.

I glanced at my mug. Still a bit left. Enough to work with.

I sighed, slouching back in my chair. "You know, Gale," I muttered, letting my words slur just slightly, "you talk too much."

Then I 'tripped.'

The mug slipped from my fingers, tilting just enough for the last of the ale to splash onto Gale's pristine coat.

The table went silent.

Gale froze.

I blinked, swaying slightly, then let out a slow, exaggerated, "Oops."

Gregor choked on his drink. Roderick clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking.

Gale stared at me, his eye twitching.

"...You."

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, frowning. "What?"

His jaw clenched. "You did that on purpose."

I blinked again, looking down at my empty mug. Then at his soaked coat. Then back at him. "Huh?" I tilted my head. "Why would I waste good ale on you?"

Gale's expression darkened. His fingers twitched against the table, knuckles white. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head—calculating, deciding whether this was worth a scene.

I gave him a slow, dumb blink, slumping slightly in my chair. Playing drunk wasn't hard. Lucian Drelmont had a reputation, after all. If I pushed it just enough, people would believe it.

Gregor let out a wheezing laugh. "Damn, Drelmont. That's the best accident I've ever seen."

Roderick, still shaking, leaned over and muttered, "You are so dead."

Maybe.

But the system wasn't done with me yet.

Punch Instructor Alexander Gale.

Alright. Fine.

If I had to do this, I'd at least make it look good.

I swayed, rubbing at my temple, then muttered, "Ugh... headache."

Then, with perfect 'drunken' coordination, I turned—too fast—'stumbled'—too clumsily—

And my fist just happened to slam into Gale's jaw.

A clean, sharp hit.

Gale jerked back, knocking into the table behind him. His drink went flying. The sound of glass shattering echoed through the lounge.

For a second, no one moved.

Then—

"Holy shit."

Gregor wheezed, half-laughing, half choking. Roderick had his face buried in his hands. A few instructors nearby were staring, wide-eyed.

Gale... was still standing. Barely. He swayed slightly, touching his jaw. When he looked up, his eyes burned with something sharp and dangerous.

The system notification popped up instantly.

___

<[System Log Updated]>

— Directive Completed: Punch Instructor Alexander Gale.

— Rewards For Completion: Book of Alchemical Cuisine & Get Away Ticket +1.

___

Worth it.

Gale exhaled, slow and controlled. Too controlled. He was furious.

The world spun as I hit the floor, or at least, I made it look like it did. I let my body go slack, head lolling to the side. A few voices spoke around me, but I tuned them out. Right now, I was just a drunk instructor who had passed out from one too many drinks.

"...Seriously?" Roderick muttered. "He's out?"

Gregor snorted. "Lightweight."

Someone—probably Gale—exhaled sharply. "Pathetic."

There was a shuffle of movement. Someone stepped closer. A shadow loomed over me. I stayed limp, breathing slow.

"You sure he's not faking?"

Shit.

I kept still. If I reacted now, I'd blow the whole thing.

Another voice chuckled. "If he is, he's really committed."

There was a pause. Then—

"Tch. Forget it."

The shadow moved away. The tension eased.

I waited.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Then, another voice. "What do we do with him now?"

Roderick sighed. "Dump him in his quarters. Let him wake up with the hangover he deserves."

Gregor snickered. "Could leave him in the training yard instead. See how he likes waking up on hard stone."

Someone snorted. "That's cruel."

"Better than what Gale probably wants to do to him."

There was a shuffle of movement. Strong hands grabbed my arms, lifting me up. I let my head loll to the side, keeping my breathing slow and steady. Play dead. Let them think I was out cold.

"I swear, Drelmont," Roderick muttered, "if this was all an act, I'm throwing you into a lake."

Tempting, but I wasn't about to break character now.

Gale was still there, watching. I could feel his gaze burning into me. He wasn't stupid. He had to suspect something. But without proof? Without a confession? There wasn't much he could do except seethe.

Good.

"You sure you don't want me to just leave him in the alley?" Gregor asked, sounding far too entertained.

"I'd rather not explain to the headmaster why one of our instructors was found unconscious in a ditch," Roderick said dryly. "Just get him to his room."

Gregor sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. But he owes me for this."

"Lucian owes everyone at this point."

Fair.

I let them drag me out of the lounge, down the dimly lit corridors of the academy. Somewhere along the way, Roderick muttered, "You definitely did that on purpose."

No comment.

They dumped me onto my bed with all the grace of a sack of potatoes.

Gregor cracked his knuckles. "Alright. Our good deed for the night is done."

Roderick sighed. "I'm locking the door."

The sound of footsteps. The creak of a door. Then silence.

I cracked open an eye.

Empty room. No Gale. No suspicious onlookers.

I exhaled, finally letting myself relax.