I Enrolled as the Villain Chapter 33: The Four Students

They sent a student in a wheelchair?

The four of them lined up at the entrance three on their feet, one rolling in last.

Then, as one, they spoke:

"The Eye sees what it sees."

Their voices rang out in perfect sync.

I didn’t rush to respond.

Then, softly not as command, but as promise I said:

"And I see what it is. Then let’s stop pretending it’s enough."

A pause.

"Let’s be more than what we see."

"Let’s beco sothing new."

The words left my mouth was quiet, but certain.

One by one, they looked at .

Each with a different expression.

They didn’t speak.

But one raised a brow. One clenched a fist. One tilted their head.

And the girl in the wheelchair just... nodded.

But none of them questioned it. They just listened. And in that mont, it was enough.

I rose from my seat, letting my gaze settle on each of them.

I stepped toward the first student.

He straightened imdiately, spine rigid, posture immaculate.

"My na is Cendric Valeris. Rank 2 of the Academy. I believe we t when you visited the construction site."

I looked him up and down. White long hair. Yes... he was the one i assessed back then the korigan holder. He seed promising

"Not to mock you," I said evenly, "but why not Rank 1?"

Cendric hesitated.

Before he could speak, soone else muttered—

"Because he injured the number one in a duel."

Hm.

I eyed him again. He carried himself with precision. Not flashy, but steady. That was good enough.

"Alright."

I moved to the second.

A bald young man stood tall — around my age. His stance was perfect. Every inch of him scread discipline, control.

He opened his mouth to introduce himself.

"My na is—"

"Why is your head bald?" I asked flatly.

He blinked.

"My previous haircut broke academy standards. So I removed it."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Bit extre, isn’t it?"

He answered without hesitation.

"Better to have nothing than to have it wrong."

"..."

Yeah he was that kind of person

"Continued."

"Yes, Leader!" he straightened like a soldier caught slouching.

"My na is Silas Valeris. I possess the Tier-4 Eye of Teragan, currently at Stage 2. I am officially ranked 20th in the Kael Valery Ultimate Academy of Excellence and Ascension."

He placed a hand on his chest, bowed slightly.

"It’s an honor to et the founder of our academy and the greatest—"

"That’s enough."

I cut him off with a raised hand.

Silas froze, then quickly nodded, retreating a step back. Still perfectly composed.

I moved to the third in line.

A girl with short, uneven blonde hair and a silver cuff stood tall.

She didn’t flinch. But her eyes were guarded.

"Marlen Valeris Thorne. Support class. Rank 30, Healing-type."

A pause.

"I’ll do what’s needed... for you."

Then, quieter—

"So don’t waste it."

She seed guarded. Her Ketsugan eye flicked around the room. Faint scars traced her hands—too many to ignore

I will have to look into that later

"I see"

I moved to the last in line.

A girl in a wheelchair.

Strange. Why would they send her? So kind of signal? Or just negligence?

"Sta—"

"My na—"

We spoke over each other.

Perfect. Awkward already.

She lowered her head. "Forgive , sir. My na is Liora Valeris. Rank 100..."

...Rank 100?

They sent the lowest-ranked student to my team? Was this mockery? A test? Or sothing else?

I stared for a mont, then asked.

"Why the wheelchair? Modern tech should cover that."

She hesitated. Her fingers curled in her lap.

"I... I was cursed," she said quietly.

Her voice barely reached .

I stared at her a mont longer. Then quietly activated the Mythrigan.

The room shifted.

Through the divine Eye, I could see it — a shroud of dark energy coiling through her veins, dense and suffocating around both legs. Its is both heavy and unyielding.

A flaw-curse. And not just any. A rare one. Vile and Precise. The kind designed not just to maim... but to remind.

I exhaled once, slow.

"Then whoever cursed you," I said, voice low and even,

"made a mistake."

The words weren’t gentle. They were judgnt.

At that, she looked up — just briefly.

Our eyes t. Hers wide, hesitant. Curious. Scared.

But then, just as fast, she looked away again. Downward. Almost ashad for daring to et the Mythrigan.

Like she wasn’t allowed to be seen.

I didn’t move. Didn’t correct her.

But inside?

I already knew one thing

No one who walk through my door will ever bow to sha again.

Not while i still have breath — and sins left to balance

So now we had:

A prodigy.

A perfectionist.

A healer.

...And Liora.

"Follow ," I said, already turning toward the training room.

Their footsteps echoed behind . Four different gaits, four different lives.

When we arrived, I picked up three training swords from the rack and tossed one to each of them.

Cendric caught his with practiced ease.

Silas bowed before taking his, naturally.

Marlen didn’t flinch. She just gripped it tight.

Then I looked at Liora.

Wheelchair-bound. Hands folded in her lap. Her eyes t mine for a heartbeat before dropping again.

I paused, one hand still resting on the last sword.

Hmm

I wonder what I should do with her.

Not out of mockery. Not pity either.

Just... wondering.

Where do you place soone who was never allowed to stand?

I turned back toward Liora.

"You," I said, eyes lingering on her longer than I ant to.

"What’s your Path? Your role?"

She hesitated. Just for a second.

Then lowered her gaze.

"...Support-class. Path of Stillness."

I waited. That’s all she gave.

I tilted my head slightly.

Support-class. Stillness.

One of those paths people pretend isn’t even there

"Do you use barriers? Healing?"

"No," she said quietly. "I... slow things. Ground them. Keep threads from unraveling."

Threads.

A strange way to say it. But I noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly, as if touching sothing invisible.

Then i looked at her eyes

She had a Ketsugan—first stage. Not impressive yet.

But her gaze flicked between the others like she was mapping sothing. Watching angles. Breaths. Rhythm.

"Stillness, huh," I muttered. "Fine."

She looked confused.

Then I stepped back and pointed to the three standing.

"You won’t fight right now. You’ll watch."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"In ten minutes," I continued, "tell everything you notice. Every hesitation. Every mistake. Every flaw."

She hesitated. "But... I’m cursed. Shouldn’t soone else—"

"That eye doesn’t see more than mine," I said calmly.

"But maybe it sees differently."

"Stillness isn’t about power. It’s about attention. Use it."

I paused, eting her gaze.

"And if your Path is Stillness... then stay still."

I turned.

"And prove you see what they don’t."

"Alright. You three—middle of the room."

I turned without waiting. They followed.

They were quick on their feet. Good. They still didn’t know what was coming.

I faced them again, my voice steady.

"What I’m about to teach you is a new sword art."

Their eyes widened slightly. Even Silas blinked.

And for a mont—just a flicker—I thought of Lucia.

The way she looked earlier.

Not angry.

Just... hurt.

Like I’d chosen soone else.

I glanced at my hand—the sa one that guided Arthur’s blade.

She was my own blood.

And I hadn’t offered it to her.

A breath left .

Heavy.

I didn’t shake it off.

So things stay. Even if you wish they wouldn’t.

Now’s is not the ti, i refocused back

In the novel, I thought, Arthur learned this from a swordmaster in the Realm of Song and Death. A style that sang through silence. Echoes of Sword.

But ?

I didn’t have that swordmaster. Or that realm. Or the divine pacing of a perfectly written arc.

All I had was mory, instinct and the Eye.

"It’s called..."

I paused, letting the na settle.

"Gaze of Severance."

The room stilled. Even the air seed to tighten.

This wasn’t Echoes of Sword. Not exactly.

Due to the limits of this body, of this world, and my own imagination

What I was about to teach them wasn’t the sa art.

It was sothing new.

Sothing mine.

A severance born not from lody

But from Valery Eyes