Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins

The training grounds bore the deep, violent scars of my merciless regime. The earth itself seemed to groan in protest, pockmarked with craters from detonated Shadow Bombs that had blackened the soil and left the air tasting of ozone. The training dummies, once sturdy constructs of wood and enchanted straw, now hung in tatters, their straw guts spilled across the dirt like the entrails of some bizarre, scarecrow-like beast. Even the reinforced steel targets, designed to withstand the onslaught of senior knights, bore deep, gouged wounds—courtesy of Volkin's spectral fangs and my own relentless drills.

I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow with the back of a leather-gloved hand, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My body ached, a deep, resonant pain that settled in my very bones. But it was a good ache. An earned ache.

Good.

[System: Progress Report]

▸ Skill Mastery: [Shadow Assimilation] has reached 89% synchronization. You can now maintain a partial shadow form for extended periods, increasing stealth and reducing physical damage.

▸ Passive Resistance: [Lightning Resistance] has been upgraded from B+ to A-. Headmistress Evelyn's "training" bolts now only char your skin instead of boiling your blood.

▸ Familiar Evolution: [Volkin] has matured from a juvenile to an adult spectral form. Combat potential upgraded from C-Rank to B-Rank.

▸ Ticking Time Bomb Status: [Sasha's Bloodfire] is now semi-stable. There is only a 50% chance she will immolate herself and our allies in a fit of uncontrolled rage.

Not bad for three weeks of non-stop, near-death training.

But now?

One. Week. Left.

The roar of my new bike's engine, a sound of pure, untamed power, cut through the morning quiet as I skidded to a stop at the academy gates. The sleek black machine—the Nightshade, purchased with Layla's generous "advance payment"—purred beneath me, its storm-crystal engine glowing with a soft, violet light. I patted the handlebars. Worth every single credit.

The classroom was chaos when I arrived. With classes officially suspended for the week leading up to the Student Council War, the usual academic decorum had been replaced by the frantic, buzzing energy of a war room. No teacher stood at the lectern. Instead, students were gathered in tight, anxious clusters, arguing, negotiating, and in some cases, outright bribing each other to join their factions. At the front of the room, Layla, Liora, and Rayne stood like rival generals scouting for last-minute talent, their gazes sweeping across the room with a cold, calculating intensity.

I strode up to Layla, pointedly ignoring Rayne's venomous glare. "Commander. Vice Commander Ashen reporting for duty. What's the situation?"

Liora scoffed before Layla could answer, her arms crossed, her expression one of pure, unadulterated annoyance. "Classes have been suspended for the week, sleeping beauty. Or did you miss that announcement yesterday too?"

I blinked, feigning a look of innocent surprise. "...Ah. Right."

Layla pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture of profound weariness. "We're finalizing our roster, Ashen. We need two more members, and we're scouting the remaining unaligned students in Class 1A for suitable candidates."

I grinned, a slow, confident smile that I knew would infuriate Liora. "Leave it to me. I'll have names for you by evening."

Liora's eye twitched. "We've already lost valuable time, thanks to certain people taking this lightly—"

I cut her off, my voice dropping, losing its playful edge. "Didn't I say leave it to me? Or do I need to remind you whose orders are absolute in matters of strategy?"

Liora opened her mouth, a sharp retort on her lips, but Layla held up a hand, silencing her. "Fine," Layla said, her gaze fixed on me. "Who do you suggest?"

I pointed a single, unwavering finger at Sasha, who had been quietly pretending not to eavesdrop from a few feet away. She stiffened, her eyes widening in a panic so profound it was almost comical.

"Her?!" Liora and Layla said in perfect, horrified unison.

"She's the weakest in direct combat among the top 20!" Liora argued, her voice rising with incredulity. "She has no offensive capabilities to speak of!"

"Maybe," I said, shrugging, my expression unreadable. "Or maybe people have hidden strengths you're too blind to see. Ever think of that?"

Layla sighed, a long, drawn-out sound of resignation. "Fine. Sasha Whitehall is on the team. And the last member?"

I smirked. "Aurelia."

This version was sourced from M|V|L^EMPYR.

This time, Liora's face darkened with a rage that was almost impressive. "Absolutely not."

I leaned in, my voice a low, confidential whisper that was for Layla alone. "You want to win? Then trust my strategy. Every piece has a purpose."

The Plan

My strategy was a tapestry woven from the threads of my future knowledge. Sasha, with her unstable Bloodfire curse, was the perfect counter to Rayne's deadliest asset: Kali, the Poison Queen. A battle between them would be a clash of two uncontrollable forces. Kali's adaptive toxins would be rendered useless against Sasha's self-immolating flames. It would be a mutual annihilation, a strategic sacrifice that would remove Rayne's most dangerous player from the board.

Aurelia? She was bait. Beautiful, powerful, and, most importantly, Rin's weakness. Her Lightning Affinity was a natural counter to his Water magic, a fact that would force him to hold back, to hesitate. In a battle of this magnitude, a single moment of hesitation was a death sentence. I would make sure he took ten times the voltage he was expecting.

Rayne himself? Layla, with her cold precision and royal training, could handle him. And Nyx? She was still recovering from our last VR battle, her mana core weakened from her subsequent clash with Rin and Cecilia. She was a shadow of her usual self, a wounded beast that could be easily contained.

[System: Cold. Calculating. I love it.]

"Just getting started."

The Final Rosters

Nowa Dawn - Our Faction

Layla Nowa (Commander) – Still annoyingly righteous, but her swordwork was as lethal as a winter storm.

Ashen Crimson (Vice Commander/Strategist) – The brains, the bastard, and the architect of our victory.

Lucielle Crimson (Vanguard) – My dear sister, who fought like a cornered wolf with a death wish. The unresolved family tension between us? A useful, if painful, tool.

Eren Whitehound (Assassin) – Surprisingly obedient after his public humbling. Fear, it seemed, was an excellent motivator.

Noora Whitehound (Long Range) – Her ice arrows could pin a fly to a tree from half a mile away. A silent, deadly threat.

Liora Nowa (Tactical Support) – Layla's sister, sharp as a razor and twice as cold. Her light magic would be our shield.

Sasha Whitehall (Wild Card) – Our walking war crime. One emotional breakdown away from burning the entire forest down.

Aurelia Dawncrest (Bait) – Acquired via… persuasion. Rin wouldn't attack her with his full strength. Probably.

Garrick Voss (Shield) – A mountain of muscle with a surprisingly sharp tactical mind. Our immovable wall.

Elara Sylph (Scout) – Silent, deadly, and loyal only to Layla. Our eyes and ears in the shadows.

Galat's Vanguard - The Opposition

Rayne Thorne (Leader) – Still wanted me dead. Cute.

Rin (Main DPS) – Protagonist-tier plot armor and our single biggest problem.

Kali (Poison Specialist) – Sasha's designated sacrificial target.

Nyx (Illusions) – Recovered fully. Shit. My intel was wrong. This complicated things.

Cecilia Thorne (Ice Blade) – Rayne's sister and a dangerous wildcard.

Darius Kael (Brute Force) – All strength, no strategy. A predictable but powerful pawn.

Seraphina Loire (Elven Archer) – Still pissed about her tongue. Her arrows would be aimed at me, and me alone.

Vexis Mordren (Necromancer) – Annoying, but his undead minions were slow and predictable.

Talon Rook (Dual Blades) – Fast, but fragile. A glass cannon.

Mirage (Doppelganger) – The true wildcard. A dangerous, unpredictable variable.

Final Preparations

I found Sasha hyperventilating behind the barracks, her hands pressed against her chest, the red veins of her Bloodfire curse pulsing faintly beneath her skin.

"Breathe," I ordered, my voice sharp, cutting through her panic. I tossed her a silver bracelet, its surface etched with mana-suppression runes. "Wear this during the battle. It'll delay the Bloodfire's full manifestation long enough for you to take Kali down with you."

She stared at me, her eyes wide with a dawning horror. "Y-You're sacrificing me?"

I smirked, my expression a mask of cold, calculating confidence. "I'm making you a hero, Sasha. Die dramatically, and the Whitehounds will erect a statue in your honor. Your family will be lauded for generations."

She looked ill. Perfect. Fear was a powerful motivator, but so was the promise of glory.

As for the others? Layla drilled formations until her team moved as one. Lucielle sharpened her blades, her eyes burning with a fierce, competitive fire. Eren practiced stabbing dummies in the back, his movements silent and deadly.

All according to plan.

One Week Later…

The Obsidian Forest loomed before us, its twisted, black-barked trees whispering secrets in the wind. The air hummed with a palpable anticipation—and the acrid, metallic scent of impending violence.

Layla turned to me, her violet eyes burning with a fierce, unyielding light. "Ready?"

I cracked my knuckles, the sound sharp and final in the tense silence.

"Let's go burn down Rayne's dreams."