"It is with great regret and sadness that I inform you one of your peers was brutally murdered during their venture out in the Wilderness," William's voice thick with remorse rang out as he stood in front of all his students, his shoulders slumped sadly.
Currently, it was the morning after the death of the trainee. Everyone had congregated at the rear of the Camp to hold a farewell ceremony.
The air was heavy, incomparably so.
As he stared at the wooden plank that was engraved with the trainee's name, the white-haired man balled his fists. His knuckles turned white as a myriad emotions flashed through his eyes.
"After careful investigation, we have identified the people responsible for Sally's death. They go by the name of 'The White Cobras'. You can easily identify them through the white serpent tattoo on their wrists," William took a deep breath as his inner turmoil threatened to turn his voice shaky.
Standing behind him in five rows of ten, the trainees watched their instructor in sad, solemn, and mournful silence. Whilst most of them did not know Sally well - she was just one of the many commoners who were at the bottom of the pecking order, and a person who had failed her duels - the death of one of their own brought a startling reminder that life was as fleeting as a midsummer's dream.
"Those vile bandits have claimed the life of an innocent person in cold blood. It does not matter whether she was a prodigy or a one-of-a-kind genius, murdering another human, especially an innocent one, is vulgar, wicked, and horrendous.
"Sally, as your instructor and mentor I promise I will avenge you and destroy those who murdered you," William's voice reverberated in the deafening silence full of killing intent.
The trainees shivered but ultimately remained silent.
"So, you can rest easy in your journey to the Great Beyond. Fate be with you." The Head instructor placed his right hand on his chest and bowed.
"Fate be with you!" The trainees solemnly intoned, following William's lead, and bowing to Sally's memorial plank. A few sniffles and choked sobs rang out.
Evidently, the gravity of the situation was too much for some to bear.
William straightened from his bow and turned to face his remaining forty-nine students. His eyes contained a frostiness that chilled all the youths in the square to the bone.
"In light of recent events, I have pushed up the date of the trials to graduate from the Camp. They will now take place tomorrow," the scarred man held up a hand to forestall any protests, "Don't worry, I will consider what has happened with Sally and will be more lenient with my eventual verdict."
The trainees glanced at those beside them as a rush of nervous whispers ensued.
"Now, I suggest you give it your absolute all between now and tomorrow. Trust me you'll need it…" William's voice rose above the trainee's murmurs, plunging the surroundings into silence. "Meet me in the Exercise Square in five minutes. It's time for our daily morning sessions. I won't hold back. Dismissed."
After a moment of hesitation, the trainees quickly headed back, leaving the place empty save for their instructor, whose pale hair flapped in the wind.
Tiredly rubbing his face as he looked like he had aged a few years in an instant, William released a bitter sigh.
He had contacted the young girl's parents to tell them to travel to the Camp as quickly as possible, citing the reason as an emergency.
He did not look forward to imparting the terrible news of their daughter's death.
'Damn it all' William cursed.
He slowly made his way over to the Exercise square, a resigned expression on his face. His mind flashed back to a certain conversation he had the day prior…
A memory that caused his expression to twist in a nasty grimace.
—-
'That incorrigible bastard!' William gritted his teeth as he walked toward a certain hut. His eyes laid bare to a vast pool of simmering fury that was on the verge of exploding.
His jaw was hurting from clenching his teeth so hard. However, that pain was not comparable to the heavy weight on his chest.
Even if he treated his students with disdain because of how weak they were - which in fact was just a way to make sure he didn't end up getting too attached to any of the rascals - that gave no one the right to just straight up kill any of them.
'The nerve!' the white-haired instructor seethed inwardly.
A few of the trainees who witnessed the dark and furious expression on William's face instantly gave him a wide berth. The shivers they usually experienced because of his menacing scar intensified, giving birth to one of mankind's most primal emotions: fear.
That look… that look was of someone out for blood; the trainees paled further.
Uncaring of the thoughts of his students - not that he had known they were there - William's mind was focused on a single point.
'No one would brazenly attack a Training Camp under the purview of an Academy. To do that, it signifies they're unafraid and have sufficient backing.' the scarred man narrowed his eyes.
He soon arrived at his destination. Without even skipping a beat, William violently yanked the door open.
The sound of the door impacting against the wall made the trainees inside flinch as their eyes snapped to the exit of their hut. Standing in the middle of the egress, the Head instructor swept his gaze through the room before stopping at a certain trainee.
For a moment, a deafening silence spread through the cabin. The other four trainees that composed hut six looked between the spiky-haired redhead and the white-haired man.
Their eyes widened. Instantly, they realized what was happening. Along with the recognition, came a flood of crackling tension that pressed down on their shoulders.
Their bodies trembled slightly.
William, still staring at Lucas, growled to the other youths, "Leave us."
One of Lucas's roommates stood up with an indignant expression. This was his hut; his instructor would not force him out of it against his will.
"But, Sir-"
"I said, leave!" William cut his eyes to the trainee, his pupils betraying the boundless rage he felt internally.
The youth shivered intensely as the scarred man inadvertently released a portion of his bloodlust. Cold sweat rolled down his back before he fled from the hut.
His other three peers, who stood frozen to the spot, joined him almost immediately.
So, what if they were nobles? In front of their domineering instructor, they were nothing but weak, pathetic lambs.
"You bastard!" William snarled; his eyes boring furiously into the haughty heir.
Lucas merely stared back at him with a deadpan expression.
That look only riled up the older man further.
In William's mind, it was more a look of smug satisfaction that Lucas knew he was untouchable.
The instructor could not so much as harm a single hair on his head, otherwise, he would face the full brunt of the Stanburg Family's might.
"Why did you hire the White Cobras?! Why go to all these lengths? We all know it was you, don't deny it. Those bandits wouldn't dare do something if they didn't have some protection," William spat venomously, his voice rising despite himself.
Again, no response. Just a blank stare.
William's hands twitched as the urge to strike the arrogant trainee in front of him strengthened, flaring up in full force.
In the middle of an internal struggle, suddenly he released a frustrated shout and turned on his heels, quickly striding out the hut.
The head instructor feared that if he remained in the cabin a second longer, he might have just ended up worsening the whole situation.
Unknown to William, once he was out of the hut, Lucas shifted his gaze and stared out the window.
His lips curled up slowly in a small, goading smirk...