I stepped out of the lecture hall, my mechanical legs whirring softly beneath my uniform skirts. Professor Howlett's voice still rang in my ears, droning on about humanity's divine right to rule over the world. The tales seemed to grow more absurd each class: today he'd claimed the gods themselves had granted humans dominion over all other races and how it was mankind's duty to "civilize" the intelligent monsters and to show them the proper path.

"So the hydraulics in your legs, they're powered by pressure differentials?" Lyta walked beside me, her face bright with curiosity. She seemed genuinely fascinated by my mechanical nature, unlike the other students who treated it with disgust.

Yes, I replied through Mind Speech. My system uses compressed air to move fluid through the joints.

"Fascinating! And you built all this yourself?" Her fingers twitched like she wanted to examine my mechanisms up close.

Most of it. I've made improvements over time. I flexed my porcelain hand, the joints clicking smoothly. The original design was... different.

"It's remarkable engineering." Lyta glanced back toward the classroom. "Much more interesting than Howlett's lectures about human supremacy."

His timeline doesn't make sense, I noted. He claims human civilization is twenty thousand years old, but can't explain why written records only go back three thousand years.

"I noticed that too." Lyta lowered her voice. "And he never mentions what came before. It's like history just... started with humans on top."

My damaged flesh tingled at her words. Fragments of memory stirred, a world of chaos, of flaming skies and ever-changing landscapes. I ignored them.

I caught the faint shimmer of mana as I felt someone using Analyze on me. Turning my head, I spotted a cluster of senior students gathered near a marble column. One's eyes glowed with the telltale sign of the ability. He leaned close to another student, whispering something while pointing in my direction.

The student he spoke to wore the golden trim of an A-rank on his uniform jacket. The number 7 pin gleamed on his collar, marking him as a seventh-year, nearly graduated. His face twisted into a scowl as he listened, eyes boring into me with unmistakable hostility.

"Widow..." Lyta's voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe we should-"

The group broke away from the column, the A-rank student leading their march straight toward us. Other students in the hallway stopped their conversations, gathering to watch. Books clutched to chests, eyes wide with anticipation; they knew something was about to happen.

I shifted my stance slightly, keeping my weight balanced. My mechanical legs whirred softly as hydraulics adjusted. The sound seemed to echo in the suddenly quiet hallway.

Stay behind me, I told Lyta through Mind Speech. She gripped her books tighter but held her ground beside me.

As the group approached, I looked upon their leader more closely. The A-rank student's features struck me like a physical blow. Those same sharp cheekbones, that aristocratic nose; he could have been Kolin's twin, if not for the shorter, darker hair. My damaged flesh crawled as memories surfaced: Kolin's screams, the sound of breaking bones, the way his blood had stained the grass outside Weath.

I activated Analyze, the familiar blue text appearing in my vision:

Lyman Redflight

Level 22 Swordsman

Sapien (Human)

Male

Age: 23

My mechanical fingers twitched. Of course. Kolin had been the third son; this must be one of his brothers. The golden trim on his uniform marked him as one of the Academy's elite students. Seven years of training under the best warriors in the kingdom.

"That's the one." The student who'd used Analyze pointed at me. "The monster pretending to be human."

Lyman's eyes narrowed as he studied my porcelain mask and the black coloration of my uniform. His hand rested casually on the hilt of his sword; not a practice blade, but a real weapon. Upper year students had that privilege.

"So this is what's polluting our Academy now?" His voice carried the same cultured accent as Kolin's.

I remained silent, though my combat instincts were screaming at me to tear off this restrictive uniform and unleash my full capabilities. But I couldn't. Not here. Not yet.

You should go, I sent to Lyta. This isn't your fight.

"I'm not leaving you alone with them," she whispered back. Fear was in her eyes, but she held firm.

Lyman took another step forward, close enough now that I could see the rage burning in his eyes. Did he know who I was? What I'd done to his brother? Or was this just the usual prejudice against monsters?

The hall had gone completely silent. Dozens of students watched, waiting to see what would happen when an A-rank seventh-year confronted a C-rank monster. The power differential was clear to everyone present.

I kept my stance relaxed but ready. I'm not sure what I could have done if he decided to attack unarmed as I was, but I was not wholly defenseless. If nothing else, I could bite him with my sharp fangs.

"Look at how far our Academy has fallen!" Lyman's voice echoed through the hallway. "We used to be a beacon of human excellence. Now we let creatures like this study alongside us."

The gathered crowd pressed closer, hanging on his words. Some nodded in agreement, others just watched with morbid fascination.

"But this isn't just any monster." Lyman's finger jabbed toward my mask. "This is a murderer. A beast that slaughtered innocent people."

My damaged flesh crawled. I knew where this was heading.

"The people of Weath took this thing in, gave it shelter." His voice cracked with rage. "And how did it repay their kindness? By killing them! When my brother Kolin tried to stop this rampage, this monster killed him! Him and the brave men who fought alongside him!"

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Students backed away, creating more distance between themselves and me.

"Ask it!" Lyman shouted. "Ask this creature if what I'm saying isn't true. How many died by your hands? How many screamed as you tore them apart?"

"That can't be true." Lyta's voice was barely a whisper. She turned to me, eyes wide. "Tell them they're wrong. You wouldn't... you couldn't..."

I could have said my piece and denied the words. I could have even lied and denied everything, painting Lyman as a grieving brother spreading falsehoods. But that would have put all the villagers at risk. Duke Redflight would investigate harder, dig deeper, if he thought the people of Weath were hiding information about his son's killer.

Better they think I'd murdered them all. Better they believe I was just another rampaging monster.

Yes, I sent through Mind Speech, letting everyone nearby hear. It's true. I killed them.

Lyta's books tumbled from her arms, hitting the floor with a dull thud. She stared at my mask, horror replacing the fascination that had been there moments before. Without a word, she turned and ran, shouldering her way through the crowd.

The betrayal in her eyes hurt more than I'd expected.

Lyman lashed out, the sound of his palm striking my face echoing through the hallway. My head snapped to the side, more from surprise than force, as the porcelain mask had absorbed most of the impact.

"Disgusting." Lyman's voice dripped with venom. "I expected you to lie. To deny it. To at least have the decency to be ashamed of what you did." His face contorted with rage. "But I gave you too much credit, didn't I? You're just another heartless monster."

I straightened my head, meeting his gaze. The gathered students pressed against the walls, creating a wider circle around us. Their faces showed a mix of fear and anticipation.

"In accordance with War Academy rules," Lyman's voice rose to fill the hall, "I, Lyman Redflight, challenge you to a duel." His hand gripped his sword hilt until his knuckles went white. "One week from today, in the southern arena. I'll have your head for what you did to my brother."

He spun on his heel, his group of followers falling in behind him as they marched away. Their footsteps echoed off the marble floors, fading into silence.

I stood alone in the center of the hall, surrounded by horrified stares. One by one, the other students backed away, whispering among themselves as they dispersed. Within moments, the corridor was empty.

My organic hand touched the porcelain mask where he'd struck it. The surface was unmarked. I'd crafted it to be far more durable than mere pottery. Still, the impact had jarred loose more fragments of memory: the clash of steel on steel, screams of pain and rage, blood soaking into grass. More death I could remember, more death to come.

A week. Seven days until I faced Kolin's brother in mortal combat. Seven days to prepare for a duel that would likely expose my true nature to the entire Academy.

I sat at a secluded table in the library's far corner, my porcelain fingers tracing patterns on the polished wood. The scent of old books and leather bindings filled the air, but I barely noticed it. My thoughts kept returning to that moment in the hallway, to Lyman's accusations and Lyta's horrified face.

He wasn't wrong. I had killed Kolin. Not in self-defense, not in the heat of battle, but methodically. Deliberately. I had made him suffer before he died, drawing out his pain in a twisted act of vengeance for his role in Mallie's death. The memory of his screams echoed in my mind, mixing with the phantom sensations of blood on my hands.

What kind of creature was I? The villagers of Weath had shown me kindness, welcomed me into their community. And I had repaid that trust by bringing violence to their doorstep. Even if my actions had been meant to avenge their dead, the fact remained: I had tortured and murdered a man in cold blood.

My organic hand clenched into a fist. The shame burned inside me, a cold fire that consumed my thoughts. I wanted to justify it, tried to tell myself it was necessary. But here, in the quiet of the library, those excuses felt hollow.

Lyta's expression of betrayal flashed through my mind again. She had been the first person at the Academy to show me genuine kindness, to look past my monstrous nature. Now she knew the truth, that I was exactly the kind of heartless creature everyone believed me to be.

I stared down at the table's smooth surface, lost in these dark thoughts. The library's silence pressed in around me, offering no answers, no absolution for my sins.

"Well, well. The mysterious Widow, brooding in the dark." Konrad slid into the chair across from me, an easy smile worn across his face like usual. "Heard about your little encounter with Lyman Redflight. Word of it is all over the school."

I remained silent, my porcelain mask turned slightly away.

"You certainly know how to pick your enemies." His tone dripped with sarcasm. "A seventh-year student from Dragon House, the largest chapter house in the Academy. Even if you win this duel, you're marked. Any social or political prospects? Gone."

I let out a mechanical snort. As if a monster had any of those to begin with.

"True enough." He laughed, leaning back in his chair. His expression grew serious. "Though I've also heard some interesting rumors. About you killing innocent villagers, then murdering Kolin Redflight when he tried to stop you."

My organic hand tightened beneath the table.

"Thing is," Konrad continued, "I knew Kolin Redflight. I spent numerous summers with him at the palace while we attended the Prince. The Kolin I knew wouldn't risk his life for anyone, especially not commoners. So why don't you tell me what really happened?"

I turned to face him fully. Through my mask, I studied his face for any hint of deception or ulterior motive. But I couldn't risk it. Even if he seemed genuine, I had to protect the people of Weath. They'd suffered enough because of me.

The rumors are what they are, I said flatly. Believe what you want.

Konrad leaned back, a slight smile playing across his face. "Well, I guess you've got your own reasons for staying mum, I can respect that. But enough about Kolin. Let's talk about your upcoming duel. Do you even know what to expect?"

No, I admitted through Mind Speech. No one's explained the rules.

He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course they haven't. Why would any of our esteemed faculty bother explaining Academy customs to a C-rank monster?"

I remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"The Academy allows students to settle disputes through duels," he said. "And yes, they often end in death."

They permit students to kill each other? The concept seemed at odds with an educational institution.

Konrad laughed. "It's actually quite practical. Weeds out the weak ones early. Better to lose a few students than waste resources on those who can't cut it."

How does it work?

"A faculty member officiates the duel," he explained. "They ensure both parties agree to the terms and maintain some semblance of order during the fight."

Let me guess, Shawe will officiate mine.

"Wouldn't that be unfortunate?" Konrad chuckled. "But the good news is, it's no-holds-barred. You can use any tactics or abilities at your disposal."

That caught my attention. We can use our own equipment?

"Absolutely. Whatever weapons or tools you want to bring." He raised an eyebrow. "I take it that interests you?"

I nodded slowly. My combat chassis, the older one built for fighting human opponents, would do much better than my human frame in such a battle. I just needed to repair it and make some upgrades to its systems before the duel.

"And what level are you now?" Konrad asked, his fingers drumming against the library table.

Level twelve, I lied through Mind Speech. The truth of my nightly excursions into the Hellzone had to remain hidden. If word got out about my actual level, questions would arise that I couldn't answer.

Konrad flinched, his casual demeanor cracking. "Twelve? Against Lyman?" He shook his head. "You do realize he's level twenty-two, right? And he's been rank A since his fourth year here. One of the toughest fighters in Dragon House."

I tilted my head, the porcelain mask reflecting the library's lamplight. I'll manage.

"You know what's strange?" Konrad leaned forward, studying my mask. "For some reason, I actually believe you." He pushed back his chair and stood. "I have to get going. The life of a fourth-year is quite busy, you know." He flashed me his easy-going smile, though the cheer in it did not reach his eyes. "Good luck, Widow. You're going to need it."

I watched him walk away, his footsteps fading into the library's silence. My organic hand traced the edge of the table as I considered my options. The combat chassis would need significant upgrades before the duel. The spider-inspired armor might work, but Lyman would be faster, more agile than the monsters I'd fought. Perhaps a hybrid design...

I sat there in the quiet corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves, plotting my strategy. My true level was 16. Six levels was a significant gap, but levels weren't everything. I had faced many ferocious beasts down in the Academy Hellzone. Fierce monsters that could tear a man apart with ease. And Lyman, for all his rank and training, had never faced anything quite like me.

I would fight him. And I would win.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.