I Enrolled as the Villain

As I stepped out of the infirmary, I exhaled slowly.

Another healer likely the one in charge approached me.

"Sir. According to our report, over half of the Valery-blooded students from both Class A and B including the elites suffered serious injuries."

She paused, flipping her tablet. Her eyes didn't quite meet mine.

"In this ward alone, seven are in critical condition. They won't be able to participate in the Stronghold Competition, no matter what."

I said nothing.

She glanced at the other recovery bays, then back at me.

"As for the rest… many are stable. But by the time the competition arrives, maybe half of the students will be eligible not ready. Not effective. Just… standing."

Her voice lowered.

"They won't be what they were."

I nodded, slowly.

My thoughts turned inward.

Should I pull out?

Half my force was gone.

The other half of Valery might stand, but wouldn't hold.

And our post at the stronghold… barely maintained.

I remembered Lucia's report from earlier in the week:

"Our faction base is the worst of them all. The broken southern gate. No proper infrastructure. No reserves."

I closed my eyes.

Was this a battle worth walking into?

Or was I about to lead them into ruin?

The Strongholds Competition.

A once-a-year event, watched by millions across the Empire. Not just a contest a declaration. Of strength. Of direction. Of who gets remembered.

I've seen the names they whisper.

The Regent of Valkcross —heir to Crown Princess Aurelia. She resents me more than she lets on.

And beside her stand Valeheart and Drelvain.

Two major houses. One royal bloodline.

A unified banner under Valkcross.

The only reason Valery isn't among them? Because we never had to be.

We stand alone. Not because we rebel but because we can.

The Red Line of Keshar — the crimson sword whose blade never misses. Wild tactics, brutal charges, and at the center: Azaira, Daughter of the Red Cosmos. A force that bleeds the sky red just by marching.

The Blue Star of the Hero Association — the wealth, the reach, the power. Their future? Selene Dais. The prodigy born under five-tier light. They don't need to win. They just need to shine.

The Commoner Union—unpredictable, stubborn, hungry. And especially… that guy.The one who doesn't bow, because he never learned how.

And then there's us.

The Velvet Eye.

"Haa"

The most logical action, as leader?

Is to pull out.

Over half of my forces are injured. The rest barely standing. Our assigned post is a ruined fortress with no gates, no infrastructure, and no supply line.

Strategically, it's suicide. Politically, it's pointless. Personally…?

I glance at the treatment report.

So many zeroes… Even the cost of healing them bleeds us.

But I also saw them the students lying unconscious, their eyes overstrained from trying to live up to a name that once crushed them.

And yet—

Not one of them blamed me.

As leader… I should've stopped her.

Lucia.

Leadership isn't about cleaning up the damage. It's about stopping the blade before it falls.

And I failed.

As the thought settled, a shadow fell over me.

I looked up.

Azmat Valery.

Dressed in his usual black suit, eyes sharp as steel his posture unbending as ever. He approached with quiet, deliberate steps.

"Greetings, Lord Kael," he said, voice cool and formal.

"Azmat," I replied with equal calm.

Then without hesitation he bowed.

A full 90 degrees.

Not as a subordinate, but as a man acknowledging fault.

"Forgive my daughter," he said, straightening.

"For her impulsive behavior. I understand that her choices have made the Strongholds Competition more difficult than it already is."

His words were exact. Chosen with the same precision he used to run the entire security division of House Valery.

I didn't flinch.

"It's fine," I said quietly.

"Raise your head."

He did.

"Lucia… she's complicated," I admitted.

"But I think deep down she's a good person."

Azmat said nothing.

But for the first time, I saw the faintest shift in his eyes.

Not approval.

Not agreement.

Just… the briefest flicker of relief.

As I looked at Azmat, something pulled at my focus.

Just for a moment, instinct surged.

I activated the Mythrigan a brief flare in my left eye, unseen by most.

My gaze flicked to the case he carried.

Inside beneath the layers of documents, holopads, and encrypted locks something odd.

A small, bunny-shaped toy.

Worn. A faint tear at the ear. White fluff dulled by time.

…That's unusual.

My expression didn't change.

Neither did his.

I said nothing.

Just turned and walked past him.

But I felt his eyes on my back.

Not out of suspicion.

Something else.

As I exited the hallway, I saw them other parents of Valery-blooded students arriving. Some in silk, some armored in their own pride. Their eyes flicked toward me with veiled curiosity and sharpened reverence.

I didn't stop.

Didn't speak.

I vanished down the corridor before anyone could catch my name.

The lights above buzzed softly. Footsteps echoed behind me, but none dared speak.

As I walked through the academy halls, the cold silence pressing against my thoughts, I began to question my decision.

To fight.

To continue.

To lead.

Then—

"Sir Kael."

I paused.

Elira stood near one of the marble pillars, her short black hair fluttering gently in the artificial breeze. Calm, composed… but her hands were clenched tightly around a folded letter.

Her voice was soft, but steady.

"I noticed you've been… blaming yourself. For what happened with Lucia."

I didn't answer.

She stepped forward.

"I don't know if this will change anything. One of the mother of the injured student asked me to give this to you."

She held out the letter.

I stared at it for a moment — then took it.

I open the letter slowly the writing look like it been written few moments ago

To Lord Kael Valery,

I am the mother of Edric, one of your Valery students. He lies unconscious now, breathing through machines. They say he may wake up. Or he may not.

I write not to accuse you, but to tell you something before the days take him too far to return.

My son believed in you. He believed you were different that you weren't the same Kael everyone warned him about. I didn't understand it then. I just saw the bruises on his arms, the fatigue on his face.

But when he spoke of you… his eyes lit up.

He listened to your speech the one you gave when you stepped onto that conference and said:

"We're here to make sure that name means something again.

Let this be the first move. Let this be the first day. Of something better."

That night, he came home with fire in his eyes.

"I want to be part of that," he told me. "I want to help make Valery mean something again."

"He's trying, Mom. Even if no one sees it. He's trying to change us."

He told me he would earn your acknowledgment. That he'd be worthy of carrying the Eye.

And now he sleeps.

I don't ask you to carry guilt. Guilt has no place in war. But I ask you to remember my son.

Win or lose, carry that belief he gave you. Let it live longer than him.

Because he bet everything on the idea…

That you would make the House bloom under a clear sky.

— Aranel, Edric's mother

I folded the letter carefully.

"Elira."

She turned to me. "Yes?"

"…Thank you."

She didn't say anything more. She didn't need to.

The hallway fell quiet again.

And I—

I carried the letter with me. Because someone still believed. Even now.

———

I returned to class.

"Before I end my class—" Instructor Elsin paused mid-sentence the moment she noticed me entering.

The room turned.

Students from other factions stared with cold, calculating eyes like wolves watching a limping lion.

The one injured Valery students who entered this class earlier this morning were gone.

Transferred to the infirmary, most likely.

I took my seat.

The air felt just as cold as the first day I stepped in.

"Continuing from where I left off," Elsin said, clearing her throat.

"The Stronghold Competition is five days away."

She tapped her tablet, then glanced up.

"But I've received a report… due to Valery's current condition…"

Her eyes met mine.

And in that silence, I already knew what the rest of the class was thinking.

That we should surrender the battlefield before we even step onto it.

The room fell silent.

Instructor Elsin glanced at her tablet, then back at me.

"…Due to the current state of Valery's forces," she said, carefully.

"it's been advised that the Velvet Eye withdraw from the Stronghold Competition."

She didn't say it with malice.

She said it like someone expecting the obvious.

Some students from the other factions didn't even bother hiding their smirks.

A few already turned back to their notes.

I exhaled.

Then spoke, calmly:

"Half of my people are still able to walk."

Elsin blinked. "Yes, but—"

"They'll fight."

The words were sharp. Not loud. But they sliced the air like glass.

"Barely half of them are at full strength," she said.

"You know that. Even if they go, they won't be nearly as effective—"

"I know," I cut in. "But we're still going."

She hesitated, then slowly lowered the tablet.

Somewhere to my front, I heard a student scoff. Low. Dismissive.

"I didn't ask for opinions," I said, turning my head just enough to let them know I heard.

"I asked for the schedule."

Elsin studied me. Maybe waiting for me to change my mind. To show some doubt.

But I just leaned back in my chair.

Hands folded. Eyes forward.

"If I pull out now," I said quietly.

"then everything Lucia fought for everything they bled for means nothing."

My fingers tightened around the folded letter in my hand.

A silent reminder.

"They'll fight," I repeated.

"Even broken."

There was no rally. No grand speech.

Just a simple truth:

We were going.

Even if we had to crawl.

Then, a soft ping echoed from Instructor Elsin's synclight.

She glanced down.

Brows furrowed. Then lifted slightly in surprise.

"…Huh."

Her gaze swept the room, unreadable.

"A new notice just came in from the Union Board."

The air shifted.

Every faction representative looked up.

She read aloud:

"Due to the critical condition of the Valery faction following the recent incident, and in recognition of their qualified registration into the Strongholds Competition, an external support protocol has been approved."

"Effective immediately, one allied academy is authorized to dispatch four students to aid the Velvet Eye faction in the upcoming competition."

Murmurs rippled through the room.

Wait — they can do that?

Instructor Elsin tapped the corner of her tablet, scanning the fine print.

"To prevent abuse," she added, "this is a one-time clause — triggered only by high casualty metrics and emergency-level healing costs."

She continued:

"Of the four students, one must be from their top ten performers. The remaining three will be chosen from their mid-tier ranks. This decision is final."

She looked up again.

"This measure is meant to support Velvet Eye's viability not carry it. No other faction will be granted this exception unless they face similar conditions."

I sat back, arms crossed, still listening.

Elsin resumed her briefing.

"As some of you know, due to Vice Leader Lucia's training regimen, several Valery students won't be participating."

A pause.

Her eyes flicked toward me.

"That leaves your house severely understaffed."

I didn't blink. I already knew where this was going.

She tapped her holopad again.

"A partner academy has agreed to send a small unit in response."

A few heads tilted.

Instructor Elsin adjusted her glasses.

"They're from the recently constructed Kael Valery Ultimate Academy of Excellence and Ascension."

I froze.

What?

A beat of silence.

..They didn't change the name?