Chapter 524. I Would Genuinely Prefer the Embarrassing Nickname

Chapter 524: 524. I Would Genuinely Prefer the Embarrassing Nickname

By the time dinner rolled around that evening, the Academy had transformed William’s recent trauma into something approaching religious scripture.

The air in the dining hall felt thick with the hum of whispered conversations, each one carrying a new, more impossible twist to the tale.

As William moved through the corridors, he could feel the weight of dozens of eyes tracking him, not with respect, but with the hungry fascination one reserves for a monster or a god.

He had heard three distinct versions of the story before he even reached the hall, and each one had grown more grotesque than the last.

In one corner, a group of upperclassmen spoke in hushed tones about the Delmore forces numbering in the hundreds, their voices cracking with theatrical terror.

In another, a cluster of first years who scattered like frightened sparrows the moment they noticed William’s shadow falling across their table had claimed the number had already climbed to a full thousand.

Those children had even added embellishments about wyverns and dragons raining fire from the sky creatures that had, as far as William could recall, never once appeared on that blood-soaked afternoon.

Exhaustion finally won out over irritation. William sank into his chair at their usual table, the wooden bench creaking under his weight.

He dropped his head into both hands, rubbing his temples as if he could physically push the rumors out of his skull.

"I’ve told at least a dozen people tonight specifically and repeatedly that there were no deaths in that courtyard," William said to Catherine, his voice muffled by his palms. "I made it clear... No casualties. No slaughter."

"And yet..." He lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot with fatigue. "That’s the one part everyone seems to conveniently leave out."

"They want the blood... They want the body count."

Catherine didn’t offer sympathy. Instead, she leaned back, the candlelight dancing in her eyes as she watched him with undisguised amusement.

"Oh, William, darling, you’re missing the point of folklore." She took a delicate sip of wine, her expression one of serene delight. "Legends always discard the mundane details in favor of the dramatic."

"Accuracy was never going to survive contact with Academy gossip... Truth is boring; slaughter is entertaining."

"It’s not entertaining when it’s your reputation being butchered," William grumbled.

"You should be flattered," she countered, tilting her head. "Most instructors only earn nicknames after some humiliating incident involving a failed spell or a public stumble."

"You’ve earned yours through violence! That’s practically a promotion."

William let out a long, pained exhale. "I would genuinely prefer the embarrassing nickname."

"At least I could deny a stumble... I can’t deny being a mass murderer."

Catherine’s lips curled into a wicked, knowing smile. "Too late for that now, Slayer of a Thousand."

William closed his eyes, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "Please... Don’t."

"Oh, I absolutely will," she whispered, grinning into her wineglass. "I’m going to say it in the faculty meetings, I’m going to say it in the hallways, and I’m going to say it every time you look remotely serious!"

"I’m going to say it for at least another week."

William stared at his untouched food, feeling the crushing weight of his new reality. He looked at Catherine’s sparkling eyes and knew there was no winning this fight.

With a heavy sigh of weary resignation, he accepted his fate: the man who had fought for survival was gone, replaced by a myth he never asked to become.

...

Three days passed before the first proper training session took place. The Academy had begun to settle into its new equilibrium, but for William, the air still felt too still, too safe.

His muscles still remembered the wet spray of blood and the grinding resistance of bone beneath steel; his mind still replayed the desperate calculus of survival.

Looking at his four students, four young women who had stared into the abyss alongside him and somehow come back breathing, he decided they had earned something different.

They didn’t need to practice killing today; they needed to practice thinking, moving, and reacting without the immediate threat of death.

He gathered Lia, Kaela, Ellie, and Clara at the sun-drenched edge of the main training field. Catherine and Olivia stood nearby, their postures relaxed but their eyes sharp, already anticipating whatever madness William had cooked up.

William stepped forward, a rare, genuine grin spreading across his face one he made absolutely no effort to suppress. "Alright, listen up."

"After everything we’ve been through lately, I think you’ve earned something considerably lighter than live combat drills."

Kaela squinted at him, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her weapon. "Lighter? That sounds suspiciously like you’re planning to make us run laps until we vomit."

"Nothing so pedestrian," William said, tilting his head toward the center of the field where two brightly colored banners stood staked in the ground. "Today’s lesson is Capture the Flag."

A beat of stunned silence followed.

"That’s a children’s game, William," Kaela said flatly, eyeing him with open, unfiltered suspicion. "Are we six years old now?"

"It’s a tactical exercise wrapped in a child-friendly name," William corrected smoothly, his instructor persona sliding back into place. "Don’t let the simplicity fool you."

"Speed, stealth, communication, and environmental awareness—that’s what this is about!"

"Teams of two. Lia and Kaela on one side."

"Ellie and Clara, with Olivia providing tactical assistance, on the other."

"First team to retrieve the opposing flag and bring it back to their own base wins... Rules otherwise will be entirely improvised as we go."

Lia crossed her arms, a smirk playing on her lips as she glanced at Kaela. "That sounds deeply unfair to whoever gets paired with Kaela."

"I’ll be spending half my time making sure she doesn’t accidentally demolish the entire field."

"You’re paired with Kaela," William said, his grin widening.

Lia’s expression shifted with whiplash speed, moving from smug anticipation to visible, genuine alarm. "Wait. No."

"I would like to renegotiate the terms of this contract immediately."

"Too late. The terms are set."

"Positions, everyone." William clapped his hands together, the sound echoing across the grass. "Move out!"

"This is clearly a punishment disguised as a game," Lia muttered under her breath, already stalking toward her assigned side of the field with the resigned gait of someone walking toward a gallows. "I don’t even know what I did to deserve this."

"Was it something I said in Celestial? Is this karmic retribution?"

Kaela fell into step beside her, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"You exist near my flag, Lia," she said cheerfully, her eyes already scanning the terrain for cover. "That’s apparently enough of a crime."

"I refuse to accept blame for mere proximity, Kaela!"

"That’s not how law works!" Lia snapped, though there was no real heat in it.

"Noted," Kaela said with a shrug, her shoulders rolling as she prepared for motion. "Let’s go lose spectacularly together."

Lia stopped dead and glared at her. "We are not going to lose."

"Oh, we’re absolutely going to lose," Kaela insisted, already breaking into a light jog toward the treeline. "I’ve accepted it already."

"Honestly, Lia, it’s very freeing. No expectations, no pressure. Just inevitable defeat."

"Get back here and take this seriously!" Lia shouted, launching after her, her boots pounding against the turf as the game and the inevitable chaos began.