I Enrolled as the Villain
Chapter 43: Still A Valery

Chapter 43: Still A Valery

"Liora, please—" Marlen’s voice cracked, her eyes red as she squirmed on the floor, desperate to move, to stop her.

But Liora didn’t seem to hear. Or maybe she did, but her will refused to break.

"So please... just take me!"

The room held its breath.

Vera looked down at the girl at her feet, expression unreadable.

Then—

Shing.

A blade of aura tore through the air toward Vera.

It vanished the moment her eyes caught it.

A heartbeat later, the student who launched it was slammed to the ground by Red Line students, pinned without ceremony.

Vera didn’t blink. She then looked back toward Liora.

"If I were younger, I might have let you go."

She raised her spear, steady, cold, and aimed it at Liora.

"But i can’t let her be disappointed."

The tip hovered, still as judgment.

But it never came down.

Because something had stopped it.

A sword — plain, silver, unassuming had pierced just beneath her shoulder.

"I was aiming for the shoulder," a voice said. "Since you Keshar types always seem so proud of them."

"Kael?!"

Gasps broke the silence.

The Red Line soldiers who had surrounded the room dropped, collapsing one by one. Their bodies froze mid-movement, immobilized by some unseen force. A single sword had impaled each of them without warning, like justice falling without sound.

A second blade materialized behind Vera, piercing near her vital.

Kael’s voice followed, calm and close.

"Unlike that saint of nothing... you never gave up your privilege."

Shhk

Suddenly Vera’s body was yanked from Kael’s grip by an unseen force

A moment later, the command room flooded with presence.

Academy instructors stepped in from all sides. Figures cloaked in regulation coats and badges moved swiftly, their expressions cold and unreadable. Security staff followed, securing the fallen Red Line students, locking their limbs, checking pulses.

Instructor Elsin gripped Vera’s limp body by the collar, hoisting her slightly off the ground as if weighing something heavier than just a student.

Then, without another word, the instructors and academy staff vanished silent as they came.

One by one, they disappeared with the captured Red Line students, leaving only a faint stir of air in their wake.

The room stood still, stunned.

——

I glanced at the notification — one quick look then closed it.

It didn’t matter now.

My eyes lifted to the room.

To the silence.

To all of them.

The students no, my blood were trembling. Scared. Shaking.

Liora’s wheelchair lay shattered on the floor. Marlen was still bound, helpless against the cold tile.

A creeping chill slipped through my limbs, despite the heat still radiating from the ruined forest outside.

Regret settled in my chest, deeper than I expected.

They believed in a myth the one they were taught since childhood.

But they never saw the real me.

Not truly.

"I..."

My voice cracked.

"Sorry."

Marlen rose slowly, legs unsteady, arms trembling. The red marks from Vera’s robe coiled angrily around her skin, fading now into faint, smoky mist.

"...Sorry?" she echoed.

Her voice trembled not from weakness, but from holding something back.

Marlen’s fists clenched at her sides. Her eyes, red and puffy, locked onto mine.

"Kael... is that all you have to say?"

The silence thickened.

I opened my mouth, but the words caught. Her face bruised, worn, exhausted was twisted not in fear, but in betrayal.

She took a step forward.

"Liora crawled across broken tile. For you."

Another step.

"We were humiliated. For you."

Another.

"And you weren’t even here."

I looked down. I couldn’t meet her gaze.

She wasn’t wrong.

Marlen’s voice cracked now too, like glass under pressure.

"I believed in you... and you left us."

Behind her, the others stood some still trembling, some staring at the floor, others simply waiting. The silence wasn’t empty. It was heavy with the things they couldn’t say.

All of them were waiting for something.

Anything.

What would Kael say next?

She lowered her head.

Then, without warning, stepped forward and seized my shoulders her fingers clutching tightly, digging into the fabric, into me.

The white cape I wore once pristine, once a symbol crumpled under her grip.

Her voice trembled.

"Kael... we believed in the Mythrigan. The Eye of God..."

Her eyes lifted, meeting mine not with hate, but something worse.

"...Is this how a god..."

Her breath hitched.

"...tests his people?"

Her breath trembled as she spoke.

tests his people

And the way she looked at me, it broke something I didn’t know was still holding together.

Not the Kael they feared or the leader they followed

But the boy I used to be

Adrian

The one who sat alone at the back of the classroom hoping no one would notice the tremble in his hands

The one who stayed quiet during fights not because he was noble but because he was scared of being hated

The one who thought that if he smiled enough or stood tall enough or hid his panic deep enough he might finally become someone worth looking up to

I saw him again in the reflection of her eyes

Not the myths or the titles or the strength they said I had

Just me

Just a boy who tried and failed and tried again and never stopped being afraid

I took a breath not as a leader not as the heir not as someone born to carry the Eye of God

But as Adrian

And I said the only thing that felt true in that moment

"I am not a god..."

My voice was quiet. Almost too quiet for the room.

Marlen didn’t let go.

Her grip only tightened.

"Then why do we bleed for you like you are?"

Her words slammed into me harder than any weapon had.

Around us, the room remained frozen the cracked tile, the broken chair, the scorched air. Liora still lay barely upright. The others too afraid to speak.

They weren’t looking at a god.

They were looking at someone who let them suffer. Someone too late.

And still... they followed.

Still... they waited.

So what can I do, not as a god... but as Kael?

I looked at Marlen.

Her eyes were red with tears, her hands lined with fresh rope-burns and older scars. She didn’t need a myth. She didn’t need a leader.

She needed someone to rely on.

Then I remembered what Jessa said.

The strong are always kind.

So that’s what I did.

My arms moved slowly, unsure, then wrapped around her.

A soft embrace. No grandeur. Just warmth.

Marlen’s eyes widened in shock but she didn’t pull away.

She dropped into me, weak and shaking.

And I held her.

A few seconds passed. Then she stepped back, her face turned away, trying to hide what still remained in her eyes.

I turned to Liora.

She was still on the floor, bruised, trembling, her body broken and yet somehow the strongest among us.

I knelt beside her.

And bowed my head.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"For your kindness, Liora."

Then I stepped forward and bent down.

Liora’s body was small in my arms her uniform stained, edges frayed, dirt smudged across the fabric. She’d spent the entire Stronghold doing what others wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

I didn’t mind.

I lifted her gently.

Her weight wasn’t much but the silence that followed was heavy.

One of the Valery students took a step forward, concern in his voice.

"Leader, please... we can carry her. You don’t need to—"

I didn’t raise my voice.

"I’m fine."

I glanced at him, then looked down at Liora’s face.

"She’s still a Valery."

Then i said something softer this time.

"She never stopped being one."

As I set her down, she looked up. Her voice was barely there.

"Did you mean it? That I’m still a Valery?"

I didn’t speak. I just nodded. Her eyes filled, but she smiled anyway.

As I let her settle into the seat, my eyes drifted toward the wheelchair.

One of the wheels had rolled to a stop near the corner. The rest of it lay collapsed on the floor bent, cracked, barely holding together.

I walked over and knelt beside it.

Carefully, I reached for the frame, trying to piece it back together. But every time I adjusted one part, another fell loose. The structure wouldn’t hold. The spokes were bent. The seat was torn.

I couldn’t fix it.

Of course I couldn’t.

I’d never even repaired a car, what made me think I could fix this?

And yet...

I kept trying.

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was shame. Maybe both.

But something in me wouldn’t let me walk away.

Behind me, I heard a footsteps.

I didn’t turn until I heard a soft voice.

"Let... let us help too, Leader."

I looked up. A few Valery students stood there, holding tools and spare parts. One had a gear kit. Another, a roll of cloth. Their faces were tired, but their eyes were steady.

I didn’t say anything at first. Just nodded.

Then I shifted aside.

"Let’s fix it together."

No one spoke much after that. We just worked. Quiet hands. Careful effort. Not perfect. But it was something.

I never thought I’d be the one on the floor, covered in dust, rebuilding something with my hands.

But maybe that’s what leading really meant.

Not power. Not the Mythrigan. Just staying.

And fixing what I let break.