I Enrolled as the Villain

23 The Door Is shaking

As those words echoed through the air,

Only if we stop surviving… and start living…

I stood.

The sunlight shifted behind me, drawing a long shadow over the marble bench.

Lucia didn't look up.

For a moment, I hesitated.

Then I reached out my hand to her.

Open. Unarmored. No command behind it.

Just… a choice.

She blinked. Slowly.

Like the gesture confused her more than any speech ever could.

Her fingers twitched slightly, brushing her coat—ready to deflect, to draw a blade, to brace.

But I didn't pull away.

"I don't want you to follow me," I said softly.

"Not unless you choose to."

Lucia looked at the hand like it was something fragile. Dangerous. Sacred.

Then—

She reached up.

And took it.

Not with a soldier's grip. Not with a vow.

Just… her hand in mine.

It wasn't peace. Not yet.

But it was a step.

———

I walked quietly through the academy halls. Each time a Valery passed me, their gaze lingered.

It wasn't fear anymore.

It wasn't awe.

And it wasn't the hollow reverence they once gave the tyrant myth.

No they looked at me with something else.

Something I couldn't name.

Maybe I wasn't ready to.

But whatever it was…

…it wasn't the monster they remembered.

I passed by one of the mirrored glass panels lining the hallway — more decoration than utility — and caught a glimpse of movement beyond it.

Arthur.

He was training alone in the courtyard, sweat clinging to his brow as he swung a slender sword. His posture was rigid, but his strikes held intention — clean, focused.

And the blade…

I recognized it.

A subtle V etched into the hilt. Barely visible. A mark hidden unless you knew where to look.

Valery steel.

I paused.

Then I sensed footsteps approaching from behind.

Dignified. Precise.

I turned just as a figure stepped into view.

Long blond hair. Regal posture. The weight of expectation wrapped around every movement.

She said nothing yet.

But she were coming straight toward me.

The hallway was quiet too quiet. Not even a system ping.

Then I heard it.

The distinct rhythm of heels. Controlled. Regal.

Aurelia Artoria Valkcross.

Golden braid swaying slightly with each step.

She didn't slow when she saw me.

She stopped when she chose to.

"Kael Valery," she said like she was addressing a verdict, not a person.

I stood still. Waiting.

"I thought you'd be taller," she added after a pause. "But then again, tyranny has always been good at posturing."

"…You came to insult me?"

"I came to see if the heir turned human still flinches."

I said nothing.

She tilted her head, tone cooling.

"Do you flinch, Kael? Or has the Mythrigan made you forget that night? The bruises? The way your House used silence like chains?"

She took a step forward.

"Or perhaps you still believe you're owed forgiveness simply because you've decided to change."

"I don't expect forgiveness."

She looked amused. "Good. Because you won't get it."

Another step. Her voice dropped, sharpened.

"You touched me once. Do you remember that?"

My hand curled.

"I remember everything."

Aurelia's gaze narrowed.

"And yet you still stand here with that Eye open, as if the world should marvel."

She didn't shout. She didn't need to.

"You call it myth. I call it mythmaking. Convenient, isn't it? That your bloodline's sins always come wrapped in prophecy."

I forced myself to meet her eyes.

"I'm not the myth. I'm the reckoning."

Her laugh was short and soft.

"No, Kael. You're the reminder. That the Valery name never dies. It just changes clothes."

She walked past me.

I let her go.

But then — she stopped. Just enough for her words to carry back.

"You don't get to be both savior and scar."

A pause.

"But maybe, if you survive this little Velvet rebellion of yours… we'll find out whether your Eye is strong enough to see itself."

Then the air changed.

No sound. No shift in wind.

Just presence.

Something in the hallway twisted not physically, but fundamentally. My Mythrigan flared instinctively, scanning for shifts, pulses, patterns.

Then blurred.

Like fog across glass.

My eye flickered. The world shifted — not blurred, but… censored. Like something had overwritten the code beneath reality.

I tried to see her heartbeat, her mana flow, the tension in her spine. But the world around her was… redacted.

I couldn't see.

Not fully.

Just her.

Aurelia stood with one hand resting loosely against her side. No sword drawn. No stance.

Just calm.

But behind that calm, something divine cracked through.

A pale sigil pulsed at her back faint, woven into the air itself. Not energy or aura. Something older.

The mark of a pale god.

"Your Mythrigan falters," she said without looking at me.

"Good."

My breath caught.

So thats the pale god mark..

She finally turned.

"It's not for you to see, Kael Valery."

Then she stepped forward once, her voice a low, unwavering current.

"You think you've reached the peak because you walk with the Eye of Judgment?"

She leaned in slightly. Not threatening — surgical.

"But when divinity chooses someone… it doesn't need permission from bloodlines."

I stared at her — or tried to. But my Eye kept blurring around her outline, like the world itself refused to render her properly.

"Your Mythrigan," she said slowly, "sees the world's sins."

Then her eyes sharpened.

"Yours reveals what's broken. Mine decides what comes after"

The fog thickened. My vision wavered.

But I didn't step back.

And neither did she.

Silence fell again — the weight of two futures pressing against one another.

Then she walked past me.

As she did, her voice came soft.

"Next time… don't open that Eye unless you're ready for it to close."

As she left the hallway, silent stretched

"So that's the Fog of Lies…" I muttered.

The words left my mouth dry.

Not from fear but recognition.

My Mythrigan flickered.

Then pulsed.

A breath.

A crack.

The floor beneath me split — not violently, but precisely.

Thin lines spread out from my feet, like something ancient had just stirred.

Not from pressure.

But from understanding.

I blinked.

The fog around her began to peel away —

like paper curling from flame.

And in that moment—

—I saw more.

Not just light. Not just movement.

But something deeper.

Truth resisting me.

My Eye shifted. Adjusted.

Like it had just learned something.

Or remembered something it had forgotten.

The world came back into focus — but it was different now.

Sharper.

Wider.

Hungrier.

The Mythrigan wasn't weakening.

It was evolving.

Preparing for something far beyond judgment.

For something that would one day have to look even the gods in the face — and not blink.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"She really means to challenge the legacy," I said under my breath.

"The Mythrigan. Valery itself."

And then quieter still

"Let her try."

My Mythrigan shine brighter now

"And i will keep evolving and stay until something better grow"

————-

The campus shimmered under the afternoon sun, shadows cast long across polished tiles and pristine grass.

Lucia Valery stood beneath the arches of the east courtyard, posture straight, arms behind her back, her sword sheathed at her side. She was alone at least visibly but watching.

Ahead of her, two first-year class A and B Valery students practiced footwork drills, stiff and slow. One stumbled, and the other overcorrected, nearly tripping into a hedge.

Lucia sighed through her nose. Barely audible. But she didn't leave.

Instead, she walked forward until her shadow touched their practice circle.

The two students froze when they noticed her.

"Vice leader!" one of them yelped, saluting poorly.

Lucia didn't return the gesture.

"Your left heel is dragging," she said to the taller one, her voice flat but not cruel. "You'll get disarmed by strike if you repeat that in the Stronghold."

He swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, Vice Leader."

"And you—" she turned to the girl, "—stop flinching before you pivot. If your intention leaks into your feet, a trained opponent will see it before your sword even moves."

The girl flushed red and bowed deeply. "Understood!"

Lucia didn't praise them. She didn't correct more.

But she didn't walk away either.

"…Keep training. If you're still tripping over your own pride next week, I'll make time to spar you myself."

That made both of them pale.

She turned without waiting for thanks.

As she stepped back into the courtyard's outer walkway, two students from the Red Line faction passed by, their uniforms marked with deep red embroidery.

One of them bumped shoulders with her not hard, not deliberate. But enough.

"Careful," the boy muttered, annoyed.

Lucia stopped.

Her eyes turned toward him — cold, polished steel with no warmth.

The red line boy faltered. His breath caught slightly.

She said nothing.

But she didn't have to.

He stepped back.

She resumed walking.

Just before turning the corner, a Federation girl called out to her, holding a stack of reports. "Vice Leader Valery! I believe you forgot—"

Lucia didn't even glance at her. "That wasn't mine."

The girl blinked. "…But I—"

"Not mine," Lucia repeated. "Give it to your own vice leader."

Her tone wasn't venomous. Just done.

She walked on.

Moment later inside her dorm

The room was quiet except for the subtle clicks of keystrokes echoing through her room.

Lucia adjusted her gloves as the holographic interface stabilized. A soft blue flicker, then the seal of House Valery appeared.

A moment later, Evelyne's figure resolved into view, seated in her office at the Valery estate. Back straight.

Her expression was unreadable but her eyes, always sharp, softened just a bit when she saw who it was.

"Lucia."

"Lady Evelyne," Lucia replied, offering a light bow despite the distance. Then, less formally:

she said. "I saw the duel."

Lucia nodded, jaw tight. "Then you know the outcome."

"I want the reason," Evelyne said, voice quiet but cutting. "Why him? Why then?"

Lucia stood straighter. "Arthur Valeheart was being disciplined. Kael intervened."

"I gathered," Evelyne said dryly. "He also walked onto the dueling stage with no sword and still bested you."

Lucia didn't flinch. "He did."

Evelyne leaned slightly forward. "Tell me what I didn't see."

Lucia exhaled, eyes lowering just for a moment. "It wasn't power he used. Not first. It was presence. He walked into that hallway and everyone shifted. Even me."

"And yet you fought him."

Lucia nodded. "I had to. It wasn't just about Arthur."

"It never is."

Lucia hesitated, then said,

"Kael stood in front of a Valeheart. Publicly. Chose to protect him. Chose to claim the Eye had already acted."

Evelyne's eyes narrowed.

"That's not nothing," Lucia added. "Especially in front of our blood."

"He wasn't cruel," Evelyne murmured. "That's what caught me. He didn't punish you."

Lucia was silent.

Evelyne continued. "The old Kael would've broken your wrist just to start. He would've sent a message. But now… he sent something else."

Lucia's voice was quieter when she replied. "He offered me his hand afterward."

Evelyne blinked.

"Not metaphorically. Literally."

"And you took it?" Evelyne asked, but there was no accusation in her tone.

"…Yes."

A long silence passed. Then Evelyne said,

"I watched that duel three times."

Lucia looked up, surprised.

"I couldn't stop," Evelyne said.

"There was something strange in it. Familiar… and completely not. He was precise. He was in control. But there was a moment — a single step, a slight movement — that told me…"

She trailed off.

"Told you what?" Lucia asked.

Evelyne's voice turned thoughtful.

"That he's not interested in conquest anymore."

Lucia said nothing.

"He's rewriting what it means to be Valery," Evelyne added.

"And if we don't pay attention… the rest of the bloodline will follow him, not us."

"I'd already follow him," Lucia said before she could stop herself.

Evelyne gave her a long look. Not cold. Not suspicious. Just… searching.

Then she said, "Do you think he's dangerous?"

Lucia shook her head. "Not in the way we feared."

She hesitated.

"And I confirmed something else."

"What?"

"Kael's sword. The one forged by the elders with the twin alloy glyphs. It's gone from his locker."

Evelyne narrowed her eyes. "Stolen?"

"No. Transferred."

Lucia leaned forward slightly, voice like ice meeting fire.

"He gave it to Arthur."

A long silence.

When Evelyne finally spoke, her voice was measured. But something in it had cracked.

"…Without telling anyone?"

"Without even a note. Just… left it."

Lucia folded her arms.

"That blade was only meant to be wielded by Valery."

"Arthur isn't Valery," Evelyne said.

Lucia looked away.

"Kael knows."

Another pause.

Then Evelyne leaned forward, folding her hands under her chin.

"I don't understand what he's doing," Evelyne said finally.

"Not fully."

Lucia's tone softened.

"Maybe he's trying to break the cycle. In his own way."

"And if he's wrong?"

Lucia gave the barest smile.

"Then I'll be the first to remind him."

Evelyne watched her, not as heir to the House — but as a sister watching another step carefully down an uncertain road.

"…You still trust him?"

Lucia answered without hesitation.

"Yes. But I won't follow blindly. Not again."

A beat.

Then, almost as an afterthought:

"I don't think he sees Arthur as a Valeheart anymore."

Then Evelyne looked down, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

"He's going to challenge the structure. I can feel it."

"He already has," Lucia replied.

"He challenged me."

Evelyne's lips curled faintly. "And you didn't kill him?"

Lucia smirked. "Nearly. But I'm saving that threat for later. Keeps him polite."

That earned a low laugh from Evelyne.

"Thank you," Evelyne said, quietly.

"For staying close to him."

Lucia's voice dropped, softer than usual.

"I never really left."

Evelyne's eyes warmed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Lucia didn't respond.

They sat like that silent across distance, across duty, both watching a future neither had chosen but both were trying to shape.

Then Evelyne's voice returned to formal clarity.

"You're authorized to keep acting independently. But report anything that risks his safety or the House."

Lucia nodded once. "Understood."

"Anything else?"

Lucia hesitated.

Then, barely audible:

"i asked him about you."

Evelyne froze — just for a moment.

"…What did he say?"

Lucia met her gaze through the screen.

"That you're the future Mythrigan sees. That the House will bloom under you."

For a second, Evelyne said nothing.

Then she turned her face slightly away from the holo feed, murmuring,

"Tell him I said thank you."

Lucia tilted her head.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?"

Evelyne didn't answer.

The call ended in silence.