The morning sun cast long shadows across the arena floor as preparations for the duel continued. As Lyman's cronies finished putting his armor together, I checked my status.

Name: Widow

Level: 17

Species: Dirtborn [MONSTER]

Gender: N/A

Age: 1

Titles: Original, Vanquisher of Qordos, Defender of Weath, Dragon Slayer, Fugitive

Strength: 32

Endurance: 33

Dexterity: 38

Intelligence: 33

Wisdom: 25

Attributes: Ancestor Might, Invulnerable Flesh, Integration, Court Style Swordsmanship, Weath Defense

Abilities: Mind Speech D, Mind Sight C, Language Comprehension S, Assembly B, Analyze C, Depository C, Mana Manipulation D, Blade Skill E

It all looked good. I was prepared as I would ever be. My combat chassis had been upgraded and improved. It was much better that it had been when I had first constructed it in that shed at Qordos. It was even leagues above what it had been when I first entered the Academy.

I had prepared in every way I could for this fight. Now it was time to act.

Casper raised his hand. "Silence!" His command echoed through the stands, and the murmuring crowd fell quiet.

"Clear the arena. Only the combatants remain." Lyman's friends filed off the sand, leaving us alone in the center.

Casper's voice carried magically across the large arena grounds, possibly using the same technique that Kolin had all those months ago. "This is an official War Academy duel. I, Casper the Manslayer, will serve as judge." He paused, scanning the crowd. "The rules are simple. You fight until one of you can no longer continue, either through death or grievous injury. Is this understood?"

I nodded, my mechanical joints whirring softly as I adjusted my stance. The alchemical coating on my combat chassis tingled with stored mana, ready to be unleashed.

"Are the combatants ready?" Casper asked.

"I am ready." Lyman's voice rang out clear and strong. "Today I avenge my brother Kolin and the innocent villagers of Weath who died by this monster's hand!"

I remained silent, my four arms each gripping a different weapon: two swords, a spear, and a shield. My asymmetrical helmet tilted downwards as I fell into a ready stance, all four arms moving smoothly into position.

"Then let the duel..." Casper's hand dropped. "Begin!"

Lyman burst forward, his enchanted broadsword trailing blue light as it slashed toward my head. The blade sang through the air, hungry for revenge.

I felt Lyman's blade crash against my shield, the impact reverberating through my chassis. His sword bit into the surface, but even its enchanted blade failed to penetrate the hybrid construction of metal and chitin. My spear thrust forward, but Lyman was quick, far quicker than I'd anticipated. He twisted away from the strike, leaving me to adjust my stance.

The longsword in my third hand clashed against his chest plate, scraping across the surface with a metallic screech. No damage, but the attack forced him back. He created distance between us, his boots sliding across the sand as he began to circle.

I matched his movements, my four arms working in perfect synchronization. The shield stayed forward, both blades ready, spear poised to strike. The combat chassis performed flawlessly, each joint responding with precision to my commands.

"Not bad, for a beast!" Lyman charged, his enchanted sword blazing with blue light.

I caught his strike on my shield again. The force of his blow made my chassis shift, but I countered immediately. My spear jabbed toward his midsection while my longsword swept at his flank. He evaded the spear with practiced grace, but his armor rang as my sword found its mark on his arm. The enchanted armor wasn't even scratched, though Lyman rubbed at the limb. He obviously felt the force of the blow.

Frustration twisted his features as he retreated once more. His sword flourished through the air, a noble's practiced display meant to intimidate. Instead of waiting for his next attack, I surged forward. My weapons moved in concert: shield leading, swords striking high and low, spear seeking vulnerable points.

Lyman cursed. His blade danced, somehow managing to deflect both my spear and longsword. But he couldn't stop everything. My estoc, its tip gleaming with enchantment, found the gap at his elbow. The blade punctured flesh and muscle where his armor failed to protect.

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Blood dripped onto the arena sand as he stumbled backward, his left arm now hanging awkwardly at his side.

"First blood to the machine," Lyman spat, his left arm hanging limp. "But I'm far from finished."

He charged forward and I raised my shield, expecting another frontal assault. Instead, he dropped into a roll, his armored form ducking beneath my guard. My weapons slashed through empty air as he tumbled past. His sword flashed upward, finding a gap in my right leg's armor plating.

Metal screeched and hydraulics whined. The chassis's leg buckled but held, the layered steel construction preventing a complete failure. Still, I sensed the damage in the limb. The leg would support my weight, but my mobility was now compromised.

I thrust with both my spear and longsword, trying to catch him before he could retreat. But Lyman had already danced away, his movements fluid despite his injured arm. The arena sand shifted under my damaged leg as I pursued him, my steps uneven, chassis clearly favoring the wounded limb.

My weapons moved in concert, spear stabbing high, longsword sweeping low, estoc seeking his flank. Yet Lyman's blade seemed everywhere at once, deflecting each strike with practiced precision. Blue light trailed his enchanted sword as it knocked aside my spear thrust, then parried the longsword's follow-up.

He slipped beneath my guard once more, exploiting my reduced mobility. His sword found a seam in my torso's armor plating. The blade pierced through, and though the wound wasn't deep, more damage mounted through my systems.

I swung my spear in a wide arc, forcing him back. He retreated swiftly, easily avoiding the strike. My chassis whirred and clicked as internal systems adjusted to compensate for the new damage, hydraulic fluid seeping from both wounds.

I tracked Lyman's movements as he circled, my damaged leg whirring in protest. His sword traced elegant patterns through the air, another noble's flourish meant to draw attention and create openings.

He rushed forward, blade aimed at my midsection. My spear thrust out to meet him, but he dropped low just as before. This time I was ready. My shield swung down hard, catching him square in the face with a sickening crunch. The impact launched him backward, his armored form crashing into the sand.

Blood streamed from his shattered nose, staining the pristine arena floor. The sight stirred memories of Kolin, but I pushed them aside. This was survival, not murder.

Lyman rolled to his feet with practiced grace, though his face was a mess of crimson. His enchanted sword blazed brighter as he charged again. I caught his wild swing with my longsword while driving my spear toward his chest. The spearhead scraped across his armor with a metallic shriek but failed to penetrate the enchanted plate.

His blade crashed against my shield, the force jarring through my chassis. Before I could counter, he darted back, creating distance between us once more.

The crowd's cheers filled the arena, their voices unified in support of the noble warrior. "Kill the monster!" "Avenge your brother!" Their hatred washed over me like a wave.

I glimpsed the instructors watching from their elevated position. Casper and Harmony maintained neutral expressions, true to their roles as judges. But Shawe's face twisted with barely contained fury as he watched me hold my own against one of his prized noble students. His hands gripped the railing so hard his knuckles had gone white.

Lyman's form suddenly blurred, becoming a streak of motion too fast for my Mind Sight to track. It was obviously some type of system ability, though one I was unfamiliar with. My weapons slashed through empty air as he slipped past my defenses. His blade found my organic arm, the enchanted steel biting deep, or at least it should have. The sword scraped harmlessly across my pale flesh, unable to break the surface.

His eyes widened at the failed attack. I thrust my estoc toward his exposed flank, but he'd already leapt away, putting several feet between us. Sand kicked up from his boots as he settled into a ready stance.

Before I could advance, he blurred again. My chassis whirred as I tried to track his movement, but he was too quick. He danced through my guard, dodging past shield and spear alike. His sword crashed against my chest plate with tremendous force. Metal shrieked and buckled. The impact sent me sliding backward across the arena floor, leaving deep furrows in the sand.

I jabbed my spear toward where he stood, but his blade knocked it aside effortlessly. He bounded backward once more, creating distance. Though his movements remained fluid, his breathing had grown ragged. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with the blood from his broken nose. Whatever ability granted him that supernatural speed was clearly taking its toll.

I stared at my shield, the realization striking me as Lyman struggled to catch his breath. The heavy rectangular defense had served its purpose early in the fight, but now it was hampering my movement. This combat chassis wasn't built for defensive warfare like my six-legged frame; it was designed for speed and precision.

While Lyman wheezed several yards away, I made my decision. With a quick calculation, I hurled the shield at him. The hybrid construction of steel and chitin spun through the air, a deadly projectile aimed at his chest. His eyes widened as he dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the impact.

But I was already moving. As he completed his evasive roll, my spear thrust forward, the tip catching his ear and drawing blood. My longsword followed in a vicious arc. His form blurred again, that incredible speed allowing him to bring his blade up just in time to deflect my strike.

I channeled mana through my alchemically-coated right arm, feeling it flow through the mechanical components and into my equally-treated weapon. Blade Skill activated, and my longsword became a streak of motion. The enhanced strike crashed against his enchanted broadsword with devastating force. His weapon and arm were thrown upward, leaving his side completely exposed.

My estoc found the gap beneath his armpit, driving deep into unprotected flesh. Lyman's scream echoed through the arena as he stumbled backward and collapsed to his knees. Both arms hung uselessly at his sides, one from my earlier strike at his elbow, and now the other from the estoc's precision thrust.

The arena fell silent, save for Lyman's ragged breathing. Blood dripped steadily from his nose onto the sand, forming a small crimson pool beneath him. His arms hung useless at his sides as he glared up at me with pure hatred.

"That sword..." he grunted through clenched teeth. "That estoc belonged to my brother. You're not just a murderer, you're a filthy thief too."

I stepped forward, bringing my longsword to rest against his throat. The steel gleamed in the morning sun, its edge sharp enough to end this with a single motion.

Do you yield? My mental speech echoed in his thoughts.

He spat a glob of blood and saliva at my chassis. "Damn you and your mercy."

I nodded once, understanding. The longsword lifted away from his neck, and I saw his eyes widen slightly. Before he could react, I brought the flat of the blade down hard against his temple. His eyes rolled back as he crumpled face-first into the sand, unconscious but alive.

"Lyman Redflight is unable to continue," Casper's voice boomed across the arena. "The victor is Widow!"

A mix of reactions erupted from the crowd. Many booed and hurled insults, their hatred for a monster defeating a noble human plain to see. But to my surprise, scattered cheers and applause also rang out. Some students, both human and monster, stood and clapped. I saw Genta and the others in her group clapping wildly while Konrad grinned down at me from the other side of the arena.

I let out a sigh, the sound barely audible over the crowd's noise. The negative reaction wasn't unexpected as I'd grown used to their prejudice. But those cheers, few as they were, caught me off guard. Maybe things weren't hopeless after all; I might actually have a chance at shifting how some of the students here viewed me and other monsters. Even if such progress would take its time.

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