I Will Fulfill the Role of the Villain-Chapter 103

Luke frowned, the unexpected request leaving him momentarily dazed as if he’d been struck on the head.

“U-uh... Do you have a busy schedule or something...?”

“No, not particularly.”

“Then... please, just this once, help me out.”

Dylan bent at a sharp 90-degree angle, bowing deeply. His earnestness was palpable enough to make even Luke hesitate. His gaze dropped inadvertently to Dylan’s hands, which were marred with calluses and wounds. The training sword Luke had just returned to him was similarly battered.

“...How does a sword even end up flying out the window in the first place?” Luke asked, raising a brow.

“Well... I lost my grip for a moment...” Dylan replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly with a sheepish laugh.

Without another word, Luke brushed past him and walked into the training hall.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not the type to go easy on anyone.”

“W-wait... You’re actually going to train with me?” Dylan stammered, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“You don’t want to? You’re the one who asked,” Luke replied, exhaling a sigh.

Dylan’s face lit up immediately, and he eagerly followed Luke inside, his steps almost bouncing with excitement. Luke, on the other hand, sighed once more. This wasn’t something he had planned or particularly wanted to do—he’d rather avoid getting involved with anyone at headquarters.

But for Luke, ignoring such a desperate plea was an even harder task.

“Isn’t there anyone else you could ask to help you train? Any of the other captains?” Luke asked as he stretched his shoulders, testing the mobility of his injured hand. While it wasn’t in perfect condition, it seemed functional enough for light movements.

“Well... The Commander sometimes helps, but he’s so busy that it’s hard to match schedules.”

“Theo takes time to personally train captains? Does he have more than one body or something?”

“Oh, no, not everyone. He just pays extra attention to me because I’m... well, not the best.”

Dylan sighed heavily, the weight of his inadequacy written all over his face. Though Luke didn’t know the exact circumstances, he could empathize to a degree. The gap between being a regular senior soldier and a captain, responsible for leading an entire unit, was immense.

“What about Mile? As your predecessor, he should be easier to approach.”

“Oh, Captain Mile is... supportive, but mostly just says I’m doing fine as I am.”

Luke let out a deep sigh, understanding the subtext behind Dylan’s awkward laugh.

“That’s not support—it’s negligence.”

Fully stretched and ready, Luke walked over to a rack and grabbed another training sword. The familiar weight in his hand felt strange yet comforting after such a long time.

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“You said you’ve learned from many people but always wanted to meet me, right?”

“Yes, sir!” Dylan replied earnestly, his eyes fixed on Luke, who was testing the balance of the sword.

“Well, as your former captain, I figured you’d have the most to teach me,” Dylan added.

It was a logical enough reason, Luke thought. After all, it was natural for successors to seek guidance from their predecessors. Even Theo, after becoming Commander-in-Chief, had personally mentored Roena, the new captain of the 1st Division.

“In that case, I guess I owe you an apology.”

“...Pardon?”

“I left without teaching you anything. Not that I particularly regret it.”

Luke adjusted his grip on the sword and assumed a stance. Gesturing for Dylan to step forward, his lips curled into a sly smile.

“Well then, consider this my form of atonement. Come at me.”

The training hall lights cast a warm glow on Luke, illuminating the sharp curve of his smirk. It was a rare expression that left Dylan momentarily stunned—he hadn’t known Luke could smile like that.

But the commanding tone that followed snapped him out of his daze.

***

“W-wait... just a moment...”

Not long after, Dylan staggered back, raising his hand in a gesture of surrender. But Luke, already mid-step, swung his practice sword toward him.

“Hold on!”

Dylan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to retreat, only to stumble and land squarely on his rear.

“Ugh.”

The training sword halted just inches from Dylan’s face as Luke restrained his swing at the last moment, allowing Dylan to fall unscathed.

“What’s this? Why are you suddenly falling over?”

“Could we... take a short break?”

“Already tired?”

“‘Already’?” Dylan groaned. “We’ve been going nonstop for almost an hour!”

Luke blinked, seemingly surprised by the time. Despite this, he nodded and granted Dylan a break. Unlike the sweat-soaked Dylan, Luke didn’t have a single drop of perspiration on his face, which looked almost unnaturally fresh.

“It feels like I’m the only one who’s been training here,” Dylan muttered.

“Back in my day, personal training sessions were at least two hours minimum. You kids these days are weak.”

Dylan stifled a retort—Luke wasn’t that much older than him—and instead forced a grin.

“By the way, you’re ridiculously fast, Captain Luke.”

“Or maybe you’re just slow.”

“Ah... yeah, that’s probably it...”

Dylan wiped his face with a towel, his expression growing noticeably somber. Whatever bitterness he’d pushed aside while training seemed to be creeping back in.

Luke scratched his head, slightly awkward.

“Being the special unit captain... is it that tough?”

Clearing his throat, Luke plopped down beside Dylan, causing the younger man’s eyes to widen slightly in surprise. After catching his breath, Dylan mulled over his response.

“Well, it’s not easy, considering the unique nature of the unit. Plus... you were one of the most skilled officers in the army, Captain Luke. Filling those shoes isn’t exactly simple.”

“You don’t have to flatter me. It won’t earn you anything.”

“I wasn’t flattering you. I meant every word.”

Dylan waved his hands, eager to prove his sincerity.

“I’m not sure how this will sound, but after you left, a lot of the soldiers felt your absence. They said the void you left was huge.”

Luke paused, his water bottle halfway to his lips. He felt as though he’d been hearing nothing but surprising comments all day. When he’d decided to leave the military, he’d imagined how people might react, but his expectations had been mostly negative.

The unexpected praise left him feeling strangely unsettled.

“I wonder when I’ll ever be able to perform my role properly, like you or the Commander. I want to be strong like both of you.”

Perhaps exhausted from the training or simply too comfortable, Dylan stretched out on the training hall floor, lying flat on his back. Luke considered scolding him for collapsing so soon but held back, not wanting to crush the younger man’s spirit further.

“Do you really need to follow in my footsteps?”

“...Huh?”

“Instead of trying to emulate me or someone else, why not think about the kind of person you want to be?”

Dylan fell silent, clearly mulling over Luke’s words. Meanwhile, Luke stared at the corner of the training hall, speaking softly.

“No matter how much you admire someone, you can’t become them. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses from the moment they’re born. But if you recognize your shortcomings and work hard to overcome them, like you’re doing now, that’s what really matters.”

Luke stood, gripping his training sword once again.

“And in the end, the ones who last are people like you—those who put in the effort and persevere. Use that determination to define your own value. Don’t waste it trying to be like someone else.”

“....”

Luke’s tone was casual, almost indifferent, but his words struck Dylan deeply. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Luke froze.

“L-Luke... You’ve changed so much...”

“It’s the opposite.”

“...What?”

Luke hadn’t changed. This had always been who he was.

“Enough. Get up. You’ve got potential, but it’s true your skills still need work.”

“Ah, yes, sir!”

Luke stayed a while longer, sparring with Dylan and offering advice. By the time he left the training hall, his body felt lighter from the exertion, though the dull ache in his still-healing hand reminded him not to overdo it.

As he exited the military headquarters, Dylan’s parting words—an earnest “Please take care of me from now on!”—lingered in his mind. But his hand throbbed enough to push the thought aside.

When Luke finally returned to the ducal estate, he slipped in quietly. He had no intention of encountering the staff, who would inevitably fuss over him. Their kindness was something he wasn’t used to, and he didn’t want to burden them when he was only there temporarily.

Employing stealth techniques he’d perfected during his academy days, Luke made it to the second floor without incident. Relieved, he turned toward his room when something unusual caught his eye.

“...Huh?”

At the door to his room, a figure sat poised, gazing up at him. Its sleek white fur glistened under the light, appearing almost silver, as lustrous as Luke’s own hair.

“A cat.”

Luke murmured softly, and the cat turned its beautiful, mysterious eyes toward him. Its elegant appearance left him momentarily stunned.

The expression on Luke’s face brightened instantly as he took in the sight of the creature.