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

The end of the battle had come.

The air itself seemed to hold its breath, heavy with the remnants of smoke, frost, and the shattered echoes of powerful magic. Craters, deep and angry, scarred the earth, and the skeletal remains of the Obsidian Forest stood as charred silhouettes against a sky that burned with the soft, melancholy gold of early evening.

Only two figures remained in the arena.

Rayne.

Layla.

Their fine uniforms were ripped and stained, their armor dented and scorched, their faces streaked with sweat and blood. But neither of them bent. They stood on opposite ends of the ravaged clearing, two monarchs vying for the throne of the Academy, their auras a clashing tempest of wind and ice. This wasn't just another trial. This was the final act of the Student Council War.

Layla lifted her twin sabers, the frost-runes embedded in their blades crackling faintly with residual power. Her expression was unnervingly calm, her confidence a terrifying, serene thing in the face of such devastation.

"You know," she said, her voice carrying easily across the silent battlefield, "you don't have any chance now."

Rayne flinched. It wasn't the words themselves, but the chilling familiarity of them. It was the same calm, unshakable confidence she had shown last year, just before his defeat.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening on the haft of his glaive until his knuckles were white. "Tsssh… everything… every single plan backfired," he growled, his voice a low, ragged sound of disbelief. "I had everything. Your defeat was inevitable. I had every powerhouse on my side. Ashen, Seraphina, Rin, Nyx, Kali… even Sasha. And yet… here I am…"

His voice cracked, the sound sharp and brittle in the quiet air. "How… how can I lose? How can I be standing in the exact same place I was last year?"

Layla didn't answer right away. Instead, she smiled—a small, knowing curve of her lips that held no mockery, only a quiet, profound understanding. She stepped forward slowly, her blades lowered at her sides, her movements fluid and graceful despite her exhaustion.

"You really don't know," she said softly. "Even now."

Rayne's eyes narrowed.

"You still haven't figured it out, have you?"

Layla's gaze turned to the broken, smoldering sky. Her thoughts, however, drifted to him.

Outside the forest, atop the grand spectator terrace of the Academy, all eyes were locked on the massive, floating projection. The mana-crystal display showed the battlefield in real time, its focus zoomed in on Layla and Rayne as they stood, unmoving, in the tense, silent moments awaiting the final clash.

Nobles, instructors, sponsors, foreign diplomats, even disguised royals—everyone stood still, their breath caught in their throats.

Everyone but one.

Ashen Crimson.

He stood straight and tall, shoulder to shoulder with the other victors of the battle—though none had the same fire in their eyes that he did. His uniform was scorched, his side still bleeding faintly through the hastily applied bandage, but he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of a man who hadn't lost a single step. His eyes were fixed on the projection, not with worry, but with a quiet, fierce pride.

The moment he had been extracted from the battlefield, his body aching and his mana core screaming in protest, two blurs of motion had crashed into him.

"Ashen!!"

Sasha and Aurelia slammed into his sides, their relief so profound it was almost a physical force.

Sasha gripped his arm tightly, her face flushed with a mixture of emotion. Aurelia clung to his cloak, her sky-blue eyes wide with a desperate curiosity.

"Ashen—what happened after I was eliminated?!" Aurelia demanded, her words a frantic torrent. "Are we winning? What's the status? From the number of people here it looks like… Layla and Rayne are the only ones left, right?" She paused, her eyes lighting up with a sudden, brilliant hope. "Wait. Does that mean we're going to win?!"

I sighed, gently raising a hand to stop the barrage. "Chill. One question at a time, please."

I turned to Sasha first, my expression softening as I gently cupped her face in my hands. "How are you feeling?" I asked quietly, my voice stripped of its usual arrogance. "Everything good now?"

Sasha blinked, surprised by the unexpected tenderness in my voice. She nodded quickly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I'm fine. I… I lost control. When I woke up, I was already here. I think the fight with Kali pushed my body too far. The curse… it deactivated when I blacked out." She looked down, her fingers curling slightly into her palms. "I guess I just… gave out."

I smiled faintly, a genuine, warm expression that felt both alien and strangely natural. "Well done," I whispered, patting her head gently. "You did great."

From a distance, a ripple of reactions spread through our small group of allies.

Liora, standing at the edge of the overlook, gripped the marble railing so tightly her knuckles were white.

Seraphina's violet eyes narrowed, a thoughtful, unreadable expression on her face.

Aurelia blinked, her hand slowly lowering from my sleeve, a flicker of something that might have been jealousy in her eyes.

Lucielle, however, simply smirked, a knowing, amused look on her face.

And surprisingly—Nyx, who had been watching from a distance, let out a low, dark chuckle, the corner of her lips curling upward in a sharp, predatory grin.

I stepped up onto a broken ridge of stone, my gaze sweeping over the faces of my faction members. I raised my voice, clear and firm, letting it ring out across the terrace. "Everyone," I called, my shadow flickering behind me as if in agreement, "it's true. We're on the verge of victory."

A pause. A held breath.

Then I raised a single, unwavering finger. "No. Not the verge. We are the victors."

The crowd erupted. The students from Layla's faction roared in celebration, their cheers echoing across the viewing terrace, a rumble of triumph and relief that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Academy.

I stepped down and returned to the group gathered near the edge—Liora, Aurelia, Lucielle, and Sasha had drawn close. Seraphina and Kali joined a moment later, their expressions silent but attentive.

It was Kali who spoke first, her voice flat, but her dark eyes filled with an unmistakable concern. "Sasha," she said, "what the hell was that?"

Sasha turned toward her, confused.

"That power," Kali continued, her gaze intense. "That raw, untamed fire. What… are you?"

Sasha blinked. "I… I don't know."

"You nearly tore yourself apart," Kali said, her arms crossed over her chest. "I wasn't scared of losing to you. I was scared you were going to die."

I stepped between them, a protective instinct I didn't know I possessed rising to the surface. "You don't know Sasha like I do," I said, a half-smile on my face. "She can't die. Not when I'm around."

Sasha's cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful red. "Ashen…"

Lucielle sauntered over, her golden eyes twinkling with mischief, and added with a laugh, "My, my. Brother's grown quite bold. Flirting in public now? You've really matured."

The rest of the group turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and in Liora's case, annoyance.

I cleared my throat. "I wasn't flirting."

Liora opened her mouth as if to say something, then shut it again, a faint frown on her lips. Aurelia narrowed her eyes. Seraphina just sighed and crossed her arms. Kali tilted her head, a curious smile playing on her lips. And Nyx… Nyx still smiled, amused by the chaos I seemed to create wherever I went.

They returned their attention to the final battle unfolding on the screen.

Layla moved first.

Rayne saw the flicker of movement—just a twitch of her fingers—and raised his glaive defensively.

Note from the editor: Always check MV2LEMPYR for corrections.

Too slow.

She blinked across the ground, her boots skating atop a sheet of frost she had conjured in real-time. Her blade lashed out, striking the base of his glaive and knocking it upward. He twisted, trying to counter with a blast of wind—but she was already gone again.

Another dash. Another cut.

She was dissecting his defense with a cold, surgical precision.

Rayne shouted in frustration, wind exploding from him in a radial burst. Trees shattered. The ground cratered. Layla was flung backward—but she landed on her feet, skidding to a stop, her expression calm, her focus absolute.

"You're desperate," she said flatly.

Rayne snarled, gathering the wind around him again. "You think it's over?"

"I know it is."

Layla rushed in, her twin blades a spinning vortex of ice and steel, weaving between the gusts of wind and the shockwaves of his power.

Rayne held nothing back. Gale after gale, swing after swing—he moved with a desperate, furious energy. The ground around them was littered with deep trenches from his missed blows. The forest itself seemed to bend and sway around the force of his wind.

And still, Layla advanced.

Her sabers cut arcs of frost, sealing the earth with each step, slowing his movements, disrupting his flow. She closed the distance.

Rayne tried to leap back, to create space.

Layla blinked behind him.

A sweeping arc of her blade knocked him forward, off balance.

She stepped again, her movement a blur of silver and blue.

And drove both her sabers deep into the earth.

Ice erupted, a cage of frozen spikes that bound his legs.

Rayne roared, slamming the wind downward in a desperate attempt to break free.

Layla darted left, spun once—and with a final, decisive cry, slashed her blade across his chest.

Rayne staggered, his glaive falling from his limp fingers.

He dropped to one knee, his eyes wide with a dawning, horrified understanding. "I don't understand," he whispered, his voice a ragged breath. "I had it all…"

Layla's sabers hovered above him, their icy tips inches from his throat.

"No," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You had power. We had trust."

Her blades flashed.

The blades flashed once—a final, brilliant arc of light and ice—then came a profound, absolute stillness.

Rayne's body trembled. A faint, golden glyph shimmered beneath him. The elimination sequence triggered silently, almost gently, as if the system itself recognized the weight of his fall.

White light engulfed him.

And then he was gone.

Eliminated.

Layla exhaled, a long, shuddering breath. Her sabers dropped from her hands, clattering onto the frost-laced earth. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she remained standing, barely, as if refusing to fall until someone told her it was over.

Then—the sky cracked with a sound like thunder.

Golden runes burst across the battlefield as the Academy's monitoring system announced the final, official outcome. A brilliant beacon of light surged skyward from Layla's position, a triumphant declaration of her victory.

From the edge of the field, the Academy's support staff and healers moved in at once, their white robes a stark contrast to the scorched, blackened earth.

On the spectator terrace, everyone rose to their feet.

But none faster than me.

I stood at the very front of the overlook, watching the beam of light as if it were a monument to my own ambition. Around me, cheers erupted—students from Layla's faction celebrating wildly. Aurelia threw her arms into the air, her face alight with joy. Liora let out a trembling breath of relief, a rare, genuine smile touching her lips. And Lucielle… Lucielle simply smirked, a look of proud satisfaction on her face.

Nyx gave a slow, deliberate clap, her crimson eyes twinkling with amusement. Kali folded her arms, but a proud smile tugged at her lips. Seraphina and Sasha simply looked toward the battlefield—their expressions silent, respectful.

I said nothing at first.

Then, I stepped up to the railing, my gaze fixed on the lone figure of Layla standing victorious in the arena below.

And I bowed my head.

"To the victors," I murmured.

Minutes later, Layla stood alone in the center of the cratered arena, her uniform in tatters, her blades sheathed, her face calm. A procession of shimmering, golden banners descended from the sky, forming her family's emblem above her: a pair of magnificent, frost-tipped wings.

The Headmaster's voice echoed magically across the Academy grounds, clear and final.

"Let it be known—the winners of this year's Student Council War are Layla Nowa's faction. Led by Head Layla Nowa, the last standing combatant."

Cheers surged like a tidal wave.

Layla looked skyward, her violet eyes glowing faintly with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. But her voice, when she spoke, was a low whisper that was for her alone.

"Ashen," she whispered. "You were right."

The afterparty was held atop the Academy's upper pavilion—a grand, open-air garden that overlooked the battle arena, now magically restored to a state of pristine peace. Tables brimmed with food and wine, their surfaces groaning under the weight of roasted meats, exotic fruits, and decadent pastries. Healing mages moved between the students, their hands glowing with a soft, warm light as they patched up bruises and burns. Professors mingled with the representatives of noble families, their voices a low, pleased hum.

I stood near the edge of the gathering, my cloak newly mended, my hair still slightly tousled from battle. My eyes scanned the horizon, my thoughts a thousand miles away.

Until a familiar voice called out.

"Took you long enough to win," Layla said.

I turned. She stood there in a fresh Academy uniform, cleaned and radiant, but the exhaustion in her stance remained. Her sabers were sheathed on her back like a pair of hard-won medals.

I grinned. "Well, I did most of the work. You just had to mop up."

Layla raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

I chuckled. "Kidding. That final duel—you were brilliant."

Layla looked at me for a moment, her expression softening. "Thanks… for trusting me."

"I always did."

She smiled, a genuine, beautiful expression that seemed to light up the entire pavilion. "Then you're dumber than you look."

"Probably."

Nearby, Sasha and Liora were actually laughing together. Seraphina and Lucielle were comparing their battle wounds. Aurelia stood with Kali, sharing a rare glass of wine. And Nyx… Nyx watched them all from a distance, her expression as unreadable as ever.

I watched them, too.

Then I turned to Layla again. "So. Council President?" I asked.

Layla shrugged, a gesture of casual nonchalance that didn't quite hide her pride. "Technically… I'm the leader. It's my faction. But yes—last woman standing."

"Mm. I hate paperwork."

Layla laughed, a clear, musical sound. "You're impossible."

I leaned against the railing, my gaze sweeping over the chaotic, happy scene before me. "No," I said softly, a strange sense of peace settling over me. "Just finally where I belong."

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a final, brilliant wave of golden fire across the Academy.

The war had ended.