I Enrolled as the Villain
Chapter 38: The Rain Own This Land

Chapter 38: The Rain Own This Land

As I carried Jessa on my back, my cape clung between us—soaked, heavy, wrapping her in the only warmth I had left.

I looked around at my people.

Their uniforms once sharp were now nothing more than rags caked in mud, clinging to shivering bodies. Faces pale. Hands trembling. Not from fear.

From cold.

I turned to the ice dome I’d just raised. It shimmered faintly under the weight of the storm. It wouldn’t hold long. The rain was too relentless. Too cruel. It pounded the structure like it wanted to erase us.

I glanced at my syncwatch.

The objective flickered into view.

To win, a faction must plant their own banner inside every other faction’s Stronghold including defending their own. The last Stronghold flying a single faction’s banner wins.

You can invade, claim, and reclaim Strongholds.

Only one banner can be flying in a Stronghold at a time.

A team can retreat to reclaim their Stronghold if it’s been overtaken.

A banner must be defended for 5 minutes after placement to be permanent.

Strongholds can be upgraded (traps, walls, academy issued magical defenses), but cost resources.

Currently, the other factions might’ve already reached their strongholds. But us? Velvet?

We hadn’t even claimed ours.

I lit up my Mythrigan.

South Gate.

Flapping aimlessly in the wind. Unclaimed.

If we don’t take it soon...Someone else will.

And once they do it’s not ours anymore.

I turned to face them.

"I caught sight of our stronghold. South gate. About a kilometer."

Their eyes locked on me. Some shivered. Some wiped the rain from their brows. No one spoke.

"The rain’s not easing. The terrain’s hell. But if we don’t claim it now, someone else will."

I shifted Jessa’s weight on my back. My cape was soaked, stuck between us like a second skin.

"Are you ready?"

No one answered with words.

They just moved.

Hands to weapons. Feet into position. Cold, muddy, breathing hard but ready.

I nodded once.

"Let’s go."

As I opened the ice dome, the rain hit me again just like before. It soaked through my hair, my cloak, everything.

I stepped out first.

The moment my boots sank into the mud, I activated the Mythrigan. I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again.

A creature stood ahead. One eye. Gray fur matted from the rain. Its limbs twitched. Muscles taut. It stared straight at me.

It moved.

A blur.

It lunged without warning.

"Silas—!" someone shouted.

He tried to move, but I was already acting.

Flame burst into the air — fast, precise. It didn’t build. It just appeared.

The beast ignited mid-lunge. Flesh blackened. Bone split.

It didn’t scream. It didn’t hit the ground.

Just burned.

The rain hissed, but the fire had already done its work.

"Activate your Eyes. Don’t repeat what happened earlier."

They nodded. One by one, I saw their pupils light up — twin circles glowing faintly beneath the grey rain.

"Follow me."

I took off, running.

Another beast lunged at me from the side.

I didn’t stop. Didn’t slow.

I glanced at it.

Fire erupted.

Its body burned before it landed.

We ran.

Through mud. Through thorns. Through rain that didn’t just fall it stabbed.

Each drop stung like glass against raw skin. Our uniforms clung like wet paper, heavy and useless. Breath came short. Every step louder than it should’ve been.

And behind us I felt them.

The forest moved.

Leaves rustled where there was no wind. Branches snapped where no student ran. A hundred shapes slithered, skittered, stalked.

They were hunting us. Not chasing.

Hunting.

I didn’t have to look back. I knew what drew them.

My back burned not from pain, but from her weight.

Jessa.

Still unconscious. Still warm with the burns I’d caused.

The beasts had caught the scent.

And they weren’t letting go.

A snarl.

I turned—

Liora electronic wheelchair hissed as it dragged through the mud. Its wheels spun, stuttering against roots and sludge. The engine sputtered, frame tilting with every jolt.

She kept moving.

But it wasn’t going to last.

A beast lunged.

"—Liora!"

Marlen moved first. Her blade cracked the air, deflecting the beast mid-flight. It slammed into the dirt, snarling right before Silas’s sword tore clean through its chest with a sickening screech.

Liora gritted her teeth, jamming the joystick forward.

The chair sparked. Struggled.

Then stopped.

"Dammit—"

Marlen didn’t hesitate. She planted her sword in the mud and crouched low. Mana surged through her arms, veins glowing a fierce blue.

"Marlen—wait, you don’t have to—"

"I do," she snapped. "Shut up and hold on."

She gripped the sides of the chair and

She lifted both — chair and girl — with mana-braced arms.

The motor sparked again, sputtering against her shoulder. Rain hammered them both, soaking through clothes, but she didn’t stop.

One step.

Then another.

Her boots sank with each movement, mana pulsing from her skin like raw force.

I stared. Just for a moment.

Then turned forward.

Because behind us—

The howls were getting louder.

Dozens of faint glows flickered through the storm violet, blue, gold. All of them dimmed by the rain.

A hundred.

Maybe more.

Beasts with single glowing eyes. Grey-furred. Drawn by blood, heat, and fear. They didn’t scream.

They hunted.

"Faster!" I snapped, pushing forward.

Ahead, Silas sliced through a fallen branch with surgical precision. His sword shimmered with mana, every motion exact. No wasted strikes.

He glanced back.

"The ground’s uneven twenty meters ahead. If the beasts get close again—"

"I know," I said. "Adapt."

He nodded, saying nothing else.

Perfectionist. Always had the answers. But even he was panting now, sleeves soaked, his usually flawless bald head lined with sweat and streaked with rain.

Then—

A scream.

"AH—!"

Cendric.

He slipped legs tangled in roots. Mud swallowed his knee in seconds. He thrashed. "I—I can’t—!"

I skidded to a stop.

Marlen didn’t. She dropped Liona’s chair with a grunt and stormed toward him. Without hesitation, she grabbed Cendric by the collar and yanked him free with mana-laced strength.

His eyes were wide terrified. But not of the monsters.

Of himself

"S-Sorry—my Korigan’s overused, I—" he gasped.

"Focus!" Marlen barked. "Now’s not the time."

She shoved him forward. Hard.

He stumbled, caught himself, and ran.

He didn’t look back.

And behind us, the monsters came.

One burst from the trees tall, soaked in shadow, its single eye glowing yellow like a curse.

I turned. Flicked my left eye.

Burn.

Flame ignited mid-air, catching the creature mid-sprint. It disintegrated before it touched ground — nothing left but heat and ash.

But more followed.

"Kael — LEFT!" Silas shouted.

Another lunge. Faster. Smaller.

Too close.

Before I could react, Marlen moved.

She slammed into it with her shoulder with no blade, just brutal force. The beast snapped against a tree, its spine cracking loud in the rain.

"MOVE!" she roared. "I’ll take rear again!"

I ran.

As we moved forward, I burned through another monster.

Then another.

And finally—

The trees parted. The hill dropped.

And there it was.

A structure of steel and synthglass, half-covered in vines and moss. The old Valery Stronghold.

Its surface flickered with remnants of dormant tech. Broken lights buzzed. One turret sparked and died again.

The gates were half-open. Unused. But intact.

"Go!" I shouted.

We stumbled in limping, soaked, bleeding. Breathing.

The moment we crossed the threshold, the sensor lock flared. A pulse of blue light scanned over us, then clicked.

Doors groaned shut behind us, metal screeching against rust.

Sealed.

Safe.

For now.

I dropped beside Jessa, my arms giving out. Her chest rose. Just barely.

The air inside was dry, but stale. The hum of forgotten machines whispered through the walls

Flickering screens blinked on, lighting the cracked floor with dull, green script.

This place hadn’t seen life in years.

But it was ours.

One by one, the remaining Valery students stumbled inside and collapsed. Some dropped to their knees, eyes wide with shock. Others buried their faces in their hands, hiding the tears they couldn’t hold back.

A few sat in silence. Just breathing. Just... existing.

Marlen moved wordlessly between them. Her uniform torn, her arms still pulsing faintly with green light as she checked each leg, each wound.

She focused on the worst first, a boy whose shin was twisted unnaturally, another with a bite just below the knee.

She didn’t speak. Just worked.

Liona sat alone, staring down at her wheelchair. The wheels were caked in thick black mud, one motor flickering with sparks. The screen on the side read "FAULT." It didn’t move anymore.

She didn’t cry.

But she didn’t look away either.

Cendric had fallen into a sitting slump, back against the flickering wall panel. His eyes stared blankly at the floor in front of him seeing nothing. His fists clenched against the grime, jaw tight.

He hadn’t said a word since they entered.

None of them had.

Only the sound of dripping rain outside, the buzz of dying tech, and the quiet breath of survivors.

The silence in the room wasn’t calm. It was the kind that settled after something broke.

Twentieth of us.

All soaked. All scraped. All changed.

Some sat huddled in corners. Others leaned against walls with their heads low, steam rising off their wet clothes. A few students dragged chairs into a loose circle near the inactive console, the room’s only real source of light flickering from its backup systems.

But most just sat where they fell. On the floor. On bags. On nothing.

Nobody spoke.

I walked the perimeter slowly. Not because I needed to check it.

But because I couldn’t sit still.

Because the silence felt louder the longer I stayed still.

My boots left muddy prints across the tile. The structure was metal, One wall still blinked with a half-broken syncboard. The other had a panel torn open, wires trailing like guts.

So much for home base.

So much for the perfect Stronghold open.

I exhaled. Quietly.

The first day of Strongholds. What a disaster.

I knew this part in the novel. The rain

But living it?

Living it was different.

I failed.

Tactically. Emotionally. All of it.

I turned my head slightly.

Jessa was resting in the corner. Wrapped in my cloak. Her face half-covered, one arm freshly wrapped in bandages. She hadn’t woken up since the potion. Just faint movement. Faint breathing.

And still even now the scent of burnt skin clung to her like punishment.

I looked away.

My eyes fell on Liora.

She sat by the broken lift panel, her wheelchair powered down beside her, cracked mud coating one wheel. Her hands rested still in her lap, but her eyes weren’t blank. They were focused.

On nothing.

On everything.

Her lips didn’t move, but I could read the question in her silence:

Was I supposed to come at all?

I clenched my jaw.

This... was on me.

I let the moment sit in my chest like a weight.

And then—

A voice.

Quiet. Rough.

"...My Korigan overloaded."

Cendric.

He was sitting on the floor near the center of the room, legs stretched out, hands slack on his knees. His sleeves were torn, his knuckles scraped. He stared at the floor like he was waiting for it to swallow him.

"I... kept using it. In the mud. Over and over. Just trying to see. Trying to be useful."

He swallowed. His voice was rough not broken, but close.

"But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t even keep my footing. I slipped. I slowed everyone down. Kael... I thought I could do more."

He didn’t look up. Didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

"I really thought I could do more."

His voice cracked on the last word.

No one interrupted him.

He wasn’t looking for sympathy. Just saying it out loud.

Another voice followed.

"I thought my chair would last through this terrain," Liora murmured. "They said it was terrain-adaptive. Designed for exploration. But I knew. I knew. The moment I saw the rain..."

Marlen walked past her, knelt silently beside another student, and began tending to a bruised leg. Her face was still unreadable. Still closed.

"I don’t know what I expected," Liora added. "Maybe I just wanted to see the sky without a ceiling."

Silas leaned his head back against the wall. "Perfection’s a stupid metric out here," he said plainly.

"I tracked every terrain type for the past twenty drops. None of them had this storm. Not one. I was prepared for everything except... being wrong."

I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t have to.

The silence between words wasn’t cold anymore. It was fragile.

Like a scab being lifted.

One by one, others began to speak.

Small things. Quiet ones.

A joke here. A whispered memory there. Talk of siblings. Of fathers. Of a promise made to someone who might never know if it was kept.

No one looked at me.

But I was listening.

This...

This wasn’t how Valery operated before.

Not under me.

But maybe that was exactly what had to change.