I Enrolled as the Villain
Chapter 33: The Four Students

Chapter 33: The Four Students

They sent a student in a wheelchair?

The four of them lined up at the entrance three on their feet, one rolling in last.

Then, as one, they spoke:

"The Eye sees what it sees."

Their voices rang out in perfect sync.

I didn’t rush to respond.

Then, softly not as command, but as promise I said:

"And I see what it is. Then let’s stop pretending it’s enough."

A pause.

"Let’s be more than what we see."

"Let’s become something new."

The words left my mouth was quiet, but certain.

One by one, they looked at me.

Each with a different expression.

They didn’t speak.

But one raised a brow. One clenched a fist. One tilted their head.

And the girl in the wheelchair just... nodded.

But none of them questioned it. They just listened. And in that moment, it was enough.

I rose from my seat, letting my gaze settle on each of them.

I stepped toward the first student.

He straightened immediately, spine rigid, posture immaculate.

"My name is Cendric Valeris. Rank 2 of the Academy. I believe we met when you visited the construction site."

I looked him up and down. White long hair. Yes... he was the one i assessed back then the korigan holder. He seemed promising

"Not to mock you," I said evenly, "but why not Rank 1?"

Cendric hesitated.

Before he could speak, someone else muttered—

"Because he injured the number one in a duel."

Hm.

I eyed him again. He carried himself with precision. Not flashy, but steady. That was good enough.

"Alright."

I moved to the second.

A bald young man stood tall — around my age. His stance was perfect. Every inch of him screamed discipline, control.

He opened his mouth to introduce himself.

"My name is—"

"Why is your head bald?" I asked flatly.

He blinked.

"My previous haircut broke academy standards. So I removed it."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Bit extreme, isn’t it?"

He answered without hesitation.

"Better to have nothing than to have it wrong."

"..."

Yeah he was that kind of person

"Continued."

"Yes, Leader!" he straightened like a soldier caught slouching.

"My name is Silas Valeris. I possess the Tier-4 Eye of Teragan, currently at Stage 2. I am officially ranked 20th in the Kael Valery Ultimate Academy of Excellence and Ascension."

He placed a hand on his chest, bowed slightly.

"It’s an honor to meet the founder of our academy and the greatest—"

"That’s enough."

I cut him off with a raised hand.

Silas froze, then quickly nodded, retreating a step back. Still perfectly composed.

I moved to the third in line.

A girl with short, uneven blonde hair and a silver cuff stood tall.

She didn’t flinch. But her eyes were guarded.

"Marlen Valeris Thorne. Support class. Rank 30, Healing-type."

A pause.

"I’ll do what’s needed... for you."

Then, quieter—

"So don’t waste it."

She seemed guarded. Her Ketsugan eye flicked around the room. Faint scars traced her hands—too many to ignore

I will have to look into that later

"I see"

I moved to the last in line.

A girl in a wheelchair.

Strange. Why would they send her? Some kind of signal? Or just negligence?

"Sta—"

"My na—"

We spoke over each other.

Perfect. Awkward already.

She lowered her head. "Forgive me, sir. My name is Liora Valeris. Rank 100..."

...Rank 100?

They sent the lowest-ranked student to my team? Was this mockery? A test? Or something else?

I stared for a moment, then asked.

"Why the wheelchair? Modern tech should cover that."

She hesitated. Her fingers curled in her lap.

"I... I was cursed," she said quietly.

Her voice barely reached me.

I stared at her a moment longer. Then quietly activated the Mythrigan.

The room shifted.

Through the divine Eye, I could see it — a shroud of dark energy coiling through her veins, dense and suffocating around both legs. Its is both heavy and unyielding.

A flaw-curse. And not just any. A rare one. Vile and Precise. The kind designed not just to maim... but to remind.

I exhaled once, slow.

"Then whoever cursed you," I said, voice low and even,

"made a mistake."

The words weren’t gentle. They were judgment.

At that, she looked up — just briefly.

Our eyes met. Hers wide, hesitant. Curious. Scared.

But then, just as fast, she looked away again. Downward. Almost ashamed for daring to meet the Mythrigan.

Like she wasn’t allowed to be seen.

I didn’t move. Didn’t correct her.

But inside?

I already knew one thing

No one who walk through my door will ever bow to shame again.

Not while i still have breath — and sins left to balance

So now we had:

A prodigy.

A perfectionist.

A healer.

...And Liora.

"Follow me," I said, already turning toward the training room.

Their footsteps echoed behind me. Four different gaits, four different lives.

When we arrived, I picked up three training swords from the rack and tossed one to each of them.

Cendric caught his with practiced ease.

Silas bowed before taking his, naturally.

Marlen didn’t flinch. She just gripped it tight.

Then I looked at Liora.

Wheelchair-bound. Hands folded in her lap. Her eyes met mine for a heartbeat before dropping again.

I paused, one hand still resting on the last sword.

Hmm

I wonder what I should do with her.

Not out of mockery. Not pity either.

Just... wondering.

Where do you place someone who was never allowed to stand?

I turned back toward Liora.

"You," I said, eyes lingering on her longer than I meant to.

"What’s your Path? Your role?"

She hesitated. Just for a second.

Then lowered her gaze.

"...Support-class. Path of Stillness."

I waited. That’s all she gave.

I tilted my head slightly.

Support-class. Stillness.

One of those paths people pretend isn’t even there

"Do you use barriers? Healing?"

"No," she said quietly. "I... slow things. Ground them. Keep threads from unraveling."

Threads.

A strange way to say it. But I noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly, as if touching something invisible.

Then i looked at her eyes

She had a Ketsugan—first stage. Not impressive yet.

But her gaze flicked between the others like she was mapping something. Watching angles. Breaths. Rhythm.

"Stillness, huh," I muttered. "Fine."

She looked confused.

Then I stepped back and pointed to the three standing.

"You won’t fight right now. You’ll watch."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"In ten minutes," I continued, "tell me everything you notice. Every hesitation. Every mistake. Every flaw."

She hesitated. "But... I’m cursed. Shouldn’t someone else—"

"That eye doesn’t see more than mine," I said calmly.

"But maybe it sees differently."

"Stillness isn’t about power. It’s about attention. Use it."

I paused, meeting her gaze.

"And if your Path is Stillness... then stay still."

I turned.

"And prove you see what they don’t."

"Alright. You three—middle of the room."

I turned without waiting. They followed.

They were quick on their feet. Good. They still didn’t know what was coming.

I faced them again, my voice steady.

"What I’m about to teach you is a new sword art."

Their eyes widened slightly. Even Silas blinked.

And for a moment—just a flicker—I thought of Lucia.

The way she looked earlier.

Not angry.

Just... hurt.

Like I’d chosen someone else.

I glanced at my hand—the same one that guided Arthur’s blade.

She was my own blood.

And I hadn’t offered it to her.

A breath left me.

Heavy.

I didn’t shake it off.

Some things stay. Even if you wish they wouldn’t.

Now’s is not the time, i refocused back

In the novel, I thought, Arthur learned this from a swordmaster in the Realm of Song and Death. A style that sang through silence. Echoes of Sword.

But me?

I didn’t have that swordmaster. Or that realm. Or the divine pacing of a perfectly written arc.

All I had was memory, instinct and the Eye.

"It’s called..."

I paused, letting the name settle.

"Gaze of Severance."

The room stilled. Even the air seemed to tighten.

This wasn’t Echoes of Sword. Not exactly.

Due to the limits of this body, of this world, and my own imagination

What I was about to teach them wasn’t the same art.

It was something new.

Something mine.

A severance born not from melody

But from Valery Eyes