Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins-Chapter 80: A New Beginning, An Old War

The sun hadn’t even risen properly, its first, faint fingers of light barely touching the highest spires of the Academy, but I was already awake. Not because of nightmares, not because of a blaring system alert, but because of a small, quiet presence that had fundamentally altered the landscape of my life.

Yumi.

Dressed by Masha in a simple but elegant powder-blue dress that made her snow-white hair seem even brighter, she looked less like a child and more like a porcelain doll come to life. Her rose-pink eyes, usually so wide with a quiet, cautious curiosity, were now sparkling with a nervous excitement. Today was her first day at The Little Sprouts Sanctuary.

I lifted her into my arms, her small frame surprisingly light, and placed her gently on the front of my bike. She gripped the handlebars tightly, her small knuckles white.

"Are you scared?" I asked, my voice a low murmur as I started the engine.

"A little," she admitted, her voice a tiny whisper against the powerful hum of the bike. "But I’m excited too."

I dropped her off at the gates of the small, ivy-covered school, a world away from the cold, imposing grandeur of Ashborn Academy. The air here smelled of cinnamon and old books, a stark contrast to the scent of ozone and ambition that clung to my own school.

"I’ll be gone for about a week," I told her, crouching down to meet her gaze. "A mission for the Academy."

Her lower lip trembled slightly. "Will you come back?"

"Always," I said, my voice firm, a promise I intended to keep. "I’ll be back before you know it. And I expect a full report on everything you’ve learned."

She nodded, a new, fierce determination in her eyes. "I’ll learn everything."

When I arrived back at the Academy, the Grand Hall was already buzzing with the controlled chaos of a pre-mission assembly. Students were gathered in their assigned teams, their voices a low hum of nervous energy. I saw my own team almost immediately, a veritable collection of the most powerful, and most dysfunctional, students in our year, all gathered in a tense, silent circle.

Eren called out to me, a gesture of camaraderie that still felt strange. Liora Nowa stood with her arms crossed, her expression a mask of cold indifference. Aurelia Dawncrest offered me a small, hesitant smile. Cecilia Thorne and Nyx Voxx stood slightly apart, their auras a clashing vortex of ice and shadow. And at the center of it all, a bastion of calm in a sea of tension, was Layla Nowa.

She looked up as I approached, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching her lips. "Ashen. You’re just in time." She gestured to the group. "Now that we’re all here, we can get started. We need to get to the village of Eldoria, and I, for one, have things to do."

"Things like what?" I asked, my voice laced with a teasing, insolent curiosity that I knew would infuriate Liora. "Plotting your inevitable takeover of the known world?"

Before Layla could respond, a deep, resonant chime echoed through the hall, and a fleet of sleek, black carriages, pulled by magnificent, winged beasts, descended from the sky.

"Our transport has arrived," Layla announced, her voice cutting through the rising murmur of the crowd.

The carriage ride was a masterclass in awkward, suffocating tension. Nyx and Cecilia had immediately complained about the cramped quarters, their mutual disdain for each other a palpable force in the small space. They had only relented when Layla had fixed them with a glare so cold it could have frozen the sun.

I found myself seated next to Layla, the scent of her perfume, a subtle blend of winter roses and something that smelled like a coming storm, filling my senses. A few minutes into the journey, her head slipped, her silver braid brushing against my shoulder as she "fell asleep" on my chest.

Liora, who had been watching us with a hawk-like intensity, her expression a mixture of anger and a strange, wounded pride, finally snapped. "Get up," she hissed, her voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Don’t pretend to be asleep. Enough of your tricks, Layla."

Layla wiped her face, a perfect imitation of someone who had just been startled awake. "You got me," she said, her voice a sleepy murmur.

"I’ve known you my whole life," Liora retorted, her voice tight with a barely controlled anger. "What do you think you were doing?"

Layla simply smiled, a slow, infuriatingly calm expression. "Nothing. Why? Are you jealous?" She tilted her head, her violet eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. "I can choose anyone I want, you know. And besides, you broke the engagement with him. I can have him now without any repercussions."

"You—how can you—Ashen and I are not—" Liora stammered, her face flushing a deep, furious crimson, her words failing her.

From a few feet away, Nyx, Eren, and Cecilia were enjoying the show with a detached, almost academic curiosity.

"Isn’t this situation... messed up?" Cecilia said, her voice a low, amused murmur. "Two sisters fighting for one guy."

Eren snorted. "Not just two sisters. There are many more in the queue. And unfortunately, there’s one more whom I know quite closely. I’ve seen some... sudden changes in someone recently. Hssh. You better not do that, Ashen."

They were chatting just far enough away that I couldn’t quite make out their words, but the sentiment was clear.

"Girls, please," I said, my voice a weary sigh as I gently pushed Layla off my shoulder. "Can we at least pretend to be a functional team until we get to the village?"

The rest of the day was a long, grueling journey of petty bickering, veiled insults, and a suffocating, palpable tension. When we finally reached the small, rustic village of Eldoria, the sun had already begun to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold. The village elder, a kind, wizened old man with a face like a roadmap of a long and difficult life, offered us four rooms in the local inn.

Eren and I, in a rare moment of silent, mutual agreement, immediately claimed one room. The thought of sharing a space with any of the volatile, emotionally compromised women on our team was a prospect neither of us was willing to entertain. Nyx and Cecilia, in a surprising display of unity, both demanded their own individual rooms and immediately began to fight over the last two available singles.

Which left Layla, Liora, and Aurelia to share the last, and largest, room.

It was night already, the moon a silver sliver in a sea of black. Eren and I, exhausted from the long journey, were asleep within minutes.

But in the room next door, the night was just beginning.

Layla, Liora, and Aurelia sat in a tense, uncomfortable silence, the only sound in the room the gentle crackle of the fire in the hearth.

Aurelia, her usual bubbly enthusiasm replaced by a weary frustration, finally broke the silence. "What the hell is going on with you two?" she asked, her gaze shifting between the two sisters. "You’re making Ashen uncomfortable. You’re making everyone uncomfortable. We’re supposed to be on a mission."

Liora, who had been staring into the fire, her expression a mask of cold, wounded pride, finally looked up. "She started it," she said, her voice a low, childish whisper that was completely out of character.

Layla, who had been calmly brushing her long, silver hair, simply smiled. "Did I?"

"You know you did," Liora shot back, her voice rising with a familiar, angry heat. "You’ve always done this. You’ve always taken what you wanted, regardless of who it hurt."

"And you’ve always been too afraid to ask for what you want," Layla retorted, her voice still calm, but with an underlying edge of steel. "You wanted him, didn’t you? You were happy when the engagement was announced. And yet, you let him go. You let your pride, your fear, your insecurity, get in the way. And now that he’s moved on, now that he’s become someone worthy of attention, you’re angry. Not at him. Not at me. But at yourself."

Liora’s face crumpled, her carefully constructed mask of indifference shattering into a million pieces. "That’s not true," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He’s the one who changed. He’s the one who pushed me away."

"And you let him," Layla said softly, her expression unreadable. "You never fought for him."

Aurelia sighed, a sound of profound exhaustion. "This isn’t about him," she said softly, her voice a gentle, mediating presence in the tense, emotionally charged room. "This is about you two. You’re sisters. You’re supposed to be a team. And right now... right now you’re acting like children."

The two sisters looked at each other then, really looked at each other, for the first time all day. And in the flickering firelight, in the quiet, intimate space of their shared room, the first, fragile seeds of a long-overdue reconciliation began to take root.