I Enrolled as the Villain
Chapter 36: This Is Not A Game Of Hand And Heart

Chapter 36: This Is Not A Game Of Hand And Heart

As I stood among my Valery blood, I could hear their voices quiet, unsure, but real.

"Hey, uh... I’m sorry. About that day..."

"Yeah... me too. I think we were just frustrated."

They didn’t say Her name. Didn’t need to.

Regret doesn’t always require formality. It just needs to be heard.

I glanced down at my uniform.

It was the Valery special issue deep velvet, dark as twilight, the fabric catching the overhead lights in quiet glints of pride and tradition.

Strapped across my back was the academy-issued compression pack a cheaper substitute for real dimensional storage.

It used basic enchantments to shrink supplies just enough to carry what we needed: food, gear, tools. Nothing too large. Anything heavier, and the spell would snap.

But I had more than what was issued.

Tucked inside a hidden pouch along my waist were thousands of particle-blades, compressed so small they looked like nothing more than dust until I called them. Shards of stone. Liquified metal. A few colorless potions

A pocket arsenal. Silent. Deadly. Unseen.

But something separated me from the others.

A cape.

My uniform was the same as every other Valery — same fabric, same compression pack, same loadout of gear and rations.

But the cape wasn’t standard issue.

White, with golden lining. An Eye symbol stitched into the back — subtle, not flashy, but unmistakable. Threads of mana pulsed faintly through it, as if it were shielding me from what was to come.

At first, I wanted to reject it.

I thought it looked ridiculous too ceremonial, too weighty, too much like the child I once was, paraded around in gold and white.

But then I understood.

This wasn’t just a cape. It was a message.

I am their leader now. And sometimes, a leader doesn’t wear what they like.

They wear what others need to see.

Confidence. Identity. Direction.

Even if it weighs a little more than I’m ready to carry.

But as I stood there, thinking to myself quietly...

A flicker of blue light shimmered across the center of the preparation grounds. A low hum vibrated through the floor, followed by a pulse.

A massive hologram flared to life suspended in the air and it was unmistakably bright. It projected over the entire grounds, impossible to ignore. Conversations fell silent. Heads turned.

It began.

The first projection: Aurelia Artoria Valkcross.

She stood tall in gold-trimmed regalia, hands behind her back. Her voice rang out, regal and composed.

"We are the Valkcross. Under the Throne’s sovereignty and the mind of gold, we shall lead the heart, the hand, and the... eyes — toward a future carved by certainty and strength."

Applause burst from the Valkcross students.

Then — a flicker. A shift.

The next projection: Selene Dais.

She wore a deep blue uniform and a long, sweeping black cloak. Her tone was cool, sharp, almost calculated.

"The Federation and Hero Association shall win this competition. This is not ambition — it is outcome. A future secured by my oath."

A visible murmur rippled through the Blue Star students. Calm. Precise. Unshaken.

Then again, the image shifted.

The Redline faction appeared next, surrounding a scarlet-robed figure her hair glowing red under the light. The Daughter of the Red Cosmos stood silent as one of her knights declared.

"We do not speak of victory. We carve it. In flame, in blood, in loyalty."

Then the Commoner Union.

A smaller, more grounded image. Their leader a quiet, bespectacled young man read from a worn book, then raised his eyes to the camera.

"We don’t speak as one voice. We speak as many. And yet we still arrive. That is our strength."

Small applause followed. Scattered but genuine.

But then—

The image shifted again.

And I saw... myself.

Wait—

No.

"Back when I was a child, everyone said I was born to lead—"

My voice filled the air, echoed tenfold by external speakers across the compound.

"—to command Valery to the front of the world, to carry it all the way to the edge of history."

My eyes widened.

Who activated the feed? Who authorized this?

"The child needed a hand, not a prophecy. The flower needed water, not a monument."

I turned slightly, looking around.

Every student had stopped.

Their heads tilted up. Their eyes locked on the projection. Their own faces reflected back at them as my speech continued word for word everything I said inside the private Velvet Eye chamber now echoing in front of the entire academy. Entire world

Aurelia was watching. Selene, too.

Even the press feeds began broadcasting.

"You’re not machines. You’re not gods. You’re mine. My blood."

"And when the blue star rises over the golden body — don’t look up. The answer won’t be in the heavens. It’ll be in the hands beside you."

The courtyard stood frozen.

Then—

In the control room far above, a student technician whispered into their headset, "I don’t understand... we didn’t queue that file."

Another monitor tech turned, pale. "It’s running on an internal override."

"That’s where you’ll find your truth."

— Kael Valery

The final line lingered in brilliant white text over my holographic image. Silent. Still.

And below me, the students stared.

And I realized —

They had heard everything.

Click

Suddenly, footsteps broke the silence — sharp, deliberate, heels striking the stone like punctuation

Selene Dais.

Her cloak billowed behind her like a shadow, and her voice cut through the crowd.

"What exactly did you mean, Kael?"

Her tone wasn’t theatrical. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was pointed.

She stopped just short of the Velvet Eye delegation her gaze locked onto mine, cold as frost.

"Blue star rising above the golden body? Are you predicting a victory for the Federation? Or are you declaring something else?"

A murmur surged through the nearby factions.

Golden body — the Valkcross.

Blue star — them. Her.

It wasn’t just a poetic line anymore. It was a shot fired.

I didn’t flinch.

"It was a warning," I said calmly.

"Not a declaration."

"A warning of what?" Selene pressed, stepping closer.

"Of treason? Of prophecy? Don’t veil it in poetry. Speak plainly."

Valery students began to tense. Some reached for their side packs instinctively the way warriors do when the air gets too tight.

"If I wanted to veil something," I said, voice level,

"you wouldn’t know it was there."

That earned a few subtle exhalations behind me. The kind people make when tension becomes visible.

Selene’s eyes narrowed.

"So... this is how you play it. Speak in riddles, play the prophet, and let the rest of us guess where the blade will fall?"

"No," I said. "I’ve already told you where to look."

I stepped forward, matching her distance.

For a moment just a flicker her expression shifted.

Not softened. Not cracked.

Just... considered.

Then she stepped back. Her cloak swirled behind her as she turned.

"Careful, Kael Valery," she said over her shoulder.

"Words like that? They’re how wars begin."

And then she was gone vanishing into the blue-uniformed crowd, like a ghost swallowed by ice.

But then—

But before the whispers could settle—

Boom.

A pressure wave rolled through the air.

Heavy. Cold. Absolute.

I felt it in my ribs first. Then in my eyes.

The Mythrigan instinctively flared, my left eye burning purple in defense but even that flinch couldn’t stop the weight that now pressed down on everyone.

The crowd shifted.

Her footsteps were deliberate each one leaving a soft, golden crack in the polished floor, as if the world itself bowed to her will.

And then the Mark of the Pale God pulsed across her skin

Faint, divine, and merciless.

When she spoke, her voice carried like frost on iron.

"How ridiculous..."

Her voice rang out—elegant, clipped, but drenched in disdain.

"A golden body? Kael Valery, what exactly are you planning?"

I met her gaze. Unblinking. Silent.

"Because from where I stand," she continued,

"you sound less like a leader and more like a child reciting riddles in the dark."

Her aura rippled again. Students stumbled. Some clutched their heads, others dropped to one knee. Even Selene turned her head slightly, as if calculating whether to intervene.

"This is not a theatre, and you are not a prophet. We don’t need your riddles. We don’t need your Eye."

Her gaze sharpened like the edge of something ancient.

"Because it is the Heart and the Hand that shape the world. Not a seer clutching ghosts."

Then she smiled faintly too faint. The kind of smile that carried memory.

The kind that cut deeper than a sword.

"You speak as if you’ve changed. As if time wiped your name clean. But tell me—"

Her gold eyes narrowed, glowing faintly.

"Are you the same boy who once reached for me with bloodied hands and the eyes of a god?"

The silence hit harder than her words.

Valery students froze. Blue Star members turned.

Even Selene’s smirk faded slightly, as if realizing this wasn’t a speech anymore it was a warning.

"I still remember that moment," Aurelia continued, her tone quiet but coiled.

"That room. That look. The Eye that saw everything... except my disgust."

She stepped closer, the air bending around her.

"So go ahead. Wear your cape. Speak your riddles. Pretend to lead.

But don’t forget this world doesn’t forget. The heart remembers fear. The hand remembers pain.

—And I remember you."

Her words lingered like smoke.

And for the first time, even the sky seemed colder.

Aurelia’s aura flared again this time much more stronger. It rippled like something born in the marrow of old gods, swallowing warmth and color as it expanded.

Around her, students staggered. Some dropped to one knee, eyes wide with panic. The air turned thin.

But my eyes weren’t on them.

I looked at my own. My blood.

The Valery students stood straight too straight. Faces locked in composure, shoulders stiff with pride. But I saw it.

Cracks.

A twitch in someone’s knee. The white of a clenched knuckle. A shallow breath trying not to gasp.

They were holding on.

But barely.

Not because they lacked resolve no. But because they were already damaged. Overtrained. Bruised. Some still taped from Lucia’s training just few days ago.

They had given me everything they had. Even their pain.

And now, they were being drowned in the aftershock of a god.

I clenched my jaw.

If this kept going...

Aurelia’s pressure wasn’t just a show of strength. It was a warning and if Azaila, the Daughter of the Red Cosmos, decided to answer it—

If the Redline responded in kind, unleashing their aura

My faction would break before the trial even began. And the others would call it weakness.

They wouldn’t see the cost these students had already paid.

They’d only see who fell first.

So I did what I had to do.

The Mythrigan flared.

A violet light tore across the courtyard not loud, not violent, but absolute.

I didn’t move.

I simply raised my hand...

...and clasped it shut.

The same motion I made as a child the one that cracked the sky, that split a continent, that left the world terrified of the Eye.

The Worldrend.

But this time, I wasn’t unleashing it.

Only remembering it.

And so were they.

Everyone froze.

Aurelia’s aura died mid-bloom. Her god-mark shimmered once, then flickered out like a candle denied air.

Selene’s cloak stopped moving.

The unnatural pressure in the air vanished, like a storm retreating before it ever hit.

Even the sky stilled.

Every aura, every force snapped quiet.

And in that stillness, I lowered my hand. Slowly. Deliberately.

Not to challenge.

But to remind.

Of who I was.

Of what I still carried.

Then, my voice cut through the silence

calm and clean.

"Is this it? The future you boast about?"

I looks at them—one by one. Aurelia. Selene. Azaila. The Union.

"A golden mind that can’t see past its reflection.

A blue star so afraid of failing it hides behind protocol.

A red cosmos obsessed with painting history in blood.

And a Union that thinks yelling louder makes them stronger."

I lifted my hand slightly—not threatening, but enough to remind them.

The memory of the World Rend still lingers in the air like smoke.

"You all posture like this is about strength. But that’s not why you’re shaking right now, is it?"

My eyes narrow.

"You’re not afraid of what I’ll do.

—You’re afraid that everything you built every

doctrine, every legacy, every scar might not matter in the end."

I turns away briefly then looks back over my shoulder.

"Because deep down, you already know: when the fire comes... when the rain falls harder than it should... your crowns won’t help you."

Then, simply:

"But I will."

A pause. The wind shifts.

"You think this is a game of pieces Eyes and Hearts and Hands moving across a map.

But I’ve seen what you call strategy.

Children turned to weapons. Grief turned to obedience.

And you dare call it structure.

No.

If a new era is coming — I’ll make sure it doesn’t wear your face."