The morning sky above Asa Academy was split by the loud echo of bronze bells. Fresh air, mixed with the scent of damp earth from last night's rain, swept through the stone corridors. In the main field, students gathered to watch an iron horse-drawn carriage pulled by two Nightmare Steeds—warhorses with glowing red eyes and hooves that left momentary fiery prints on the ground.
Dex stood among the crowd, his eyes squinting at the emblem on the carriage door: three stacked skulls, the symbol of the Royal Larion Elite Forces.
"Why is the royal army coming to the academy?"
Van beside him chewed an apple casually. "They say there's a guest lecturer from the capital. Some say he's a former war general."
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed.
The carriage door opened.
A man with metallic gray hair stepped out. His black uniform was adorned with blood-red badges, and a short sword with a skull hilt hung at his waist. His face was a map of scars, a testament to cruelty, but his smile was friendly—too friendly for someone with a killer's aura.
*Duckey the Traitor.*
Dex didn't recognize him, but his body instinctively tensed. Every breath the man exhaled carried the scent of old iron and death.
In the distance, Rachel, who was walking, suddenly stumbled. Her face turned pale as if she'd seen a ghost. Her lips trembled, forming a single word. "Impossible..."
Duckey turned towards her, and his smile widened.
"Ah, Miss Rachel. It's been a long time."
Whispers spread quickly among the crowd of students. The name hung in the air like poison.
"Duckey? Is that really him?"
"That war traitor? Wasn't he supposed to be executed?"
"Why would the academy accept someone like him?"
Van, still biting into his apple, stopped chewing. His eyes, usually full of jest, sharpened. "This is bad," he whispered softly.
Duckey walked calmly, each step echoing heavily on the stone floor. Though his frame wasn't large, the oppressive aura he radiated far surpassed any academy instructor Dex had seen. This man wasn't just a former general; he was a living war machine.
His gaze stopped on Rachel.
"Miss Rachel Ralkan." He said the name with a piercing familiarity. "You've grown to look just like your brother, Alexon, haven't you? It's a shame he's no longer here."
Rachel froze. The words hit like a knife. Bloody memories, her brother's face, and the fires of war tore through her mind again.
Dex could clearly see Rachel's hands trembling. Her eyes, usually full of control, were now shattered by hatred.
"Duckey," her voice was hoarse, strained. "What are you doing here?"
The smile didn't change. Too sweet, too warm to cover the rot that followed him. "Teaching, of course. Asa Academy apparently still values the expertise of a veteran. Besides, who is more qualified to teach about battle than me, who has witnessed thousands die on the battlefield?"
The whispers around them turned into a low commotion. The students didn't know whether to be in awe or afraid.
A senior teacher finally stepped forward, trying to defuse the situation. "Mr. Duckey will be a guest lecturer for the War Strategy and Arena classes. All first to third-year students will have a chance to be taught by him. I expect you all to be respectful and not believe cheap outside rumors. Especially you, Miss Rachel."
But the words only made the atmosphere more heated.
Rachel clenched her fists, then turned quickly and left the field. Dex, without thinking, wanted to follow her, but Van held his friend's arm.
"What are you doing? You don't even know her," Van said shortly.
Dex gritted his teeth. But his eyes remained fixed on Duckey, the man who was now chatting with the teachers as if he were an honored guest, not a war criminal.
***
That day, classes proceeded under tension. All the students talked about the same thing: Duckey. Some thought it was a golden opportunity to learn from a war legend. Others thought the academy was insane for accepting a traitor.
Dex couldn't shake the man's gaze from his head. That disgusting gaze, a gaze he utterly despised.
In the afternoon, when the bell rang signaling the change of classes, a sudden announcement echoed throughout the academy.
"All first-year students, assemble in the Grand Arena for the inaugural lecture with Mr. Duckey."
Chaos erupted again. Van let out a long sigh. "Well, it seems we can't avoid it."
Dex remained silent.
***
The Grand Arena of Asa Academy was a circular structure capable of holding thousands. Its roof was open, allowing the afternoon sunlight to fall onto the golden sand floor. The voices of the students echoed loudly in the stands, while instructors stood guard on the sides of the arena.
Duckey stood in the center of the field in his black attire. Around him, the faint aura of blood grew stronger.
"Good afternoon, children." His voice was loud yet friendly, carrying clearly to every corner of the arena without the aid of magic. "I know many of you doubt me. Some call me a hero, some call me a traitor. It's true. I betrayed the Ralkan Family."
The commotion immediately intensified. But Duckey raised his hand, and silence fell instantly, as if the very air submitted to him.
"I betrayed because that family was rotten. I chose my own life over submitting to rulers who sold their people for the throne. But make no mistake, I regret not a single life I took. They were all part of war."
The students swallowed hard. His words weren't a defense; they were a naked confession.
Rachel bit her lip, drawing a little blood from the corner. Currently, the Ralkan Family lacked the power to defend itself; her family had been in decline since the loss of her brother.
A sense of powerlessness churned in Rachel's heart; the small ember of vengeance was doused in hot oil. Her gaze seemed to have transformed into that of a different person.
"I was called here for one thing," he continued. "To teach you the meaning of warfare. Battle isn't just pretty magic or duels under rules. War is blood, fear, and destruction. If you aren't prepared to face that, you'll die before you even step onto the battlefield."
Dex felt a chill run down his spine. Duckey's words weren't just a threat; they were a truth known to everyone who had experienced it.
"But let's prove it. I need a few volunteers."
Silence enveloped the arena. No one dared to step forward.
Duckey smiled thinly. His eyes swept across the arena. Then they stopped.
They landed on Rachel, who was sitting with her head bowed listlessly.
"How about Miss Rachel?" Duckey's smile widened.
A collective hiss of indrawn breath filled the arena. Every head turned towards Rachel, who now froze in her seat. Her fingers gripped her uniformed knees so tightly that the books on her lap fell scattered.
Duckey smiled, the exact same smile he had when he stabbed Alexon in the back on the battlefield long ago.
"Don't be shy, Miss Ralkan. Aren't you the last heir of that famous family? Let's show everyone... what legacy remains from your family."
Rachel rose trembling. Her body moved like a puppet whose strings were being pulled forcibly. Dex saw something terrifying in her eyes, a hint of the aura he despised from Rachel.
"I will kill you."
The sentence slipped from Rachel's lips like a bloody oath. Her voice was so loud that several students backed away in fear.
But Duckey only laughed. "Good! That's the spirit I was hoping for!"
He threw something onto the sand—a short, rust-coated dagger.
"Take it. I won't even use a weapon."
Rachel snatched the dagger and lunged forward with surprising speed. Her body left a faint shadow, a remnant of the Ralkan family's basic training that still clung to her.
But Duckey just stood there.
The first slash, Rachel aimed for his neck, right at the old scar that split Duckey's throat.
*Clack!*
Duckey blocked it with his elbow. The impact of bone against metal sounded as if it wasn't flesh, but steel. Rachel was thrown back, blood trickling from her shaken hand.
"Don't play around, Miss Ralkan," Duckey whispered. "Your brother wouldn't be proud to see you like this."
Rachel screamed and attacked again. This time, her dagger slashed like a dragon—the Ralkan family's secret technique: Dragon's Dance.
But Duckey disappeared.
He appeared right behind Rachel, whispering something only the girl could hear:
"I still remember the sound of Alexon begging before he died."
Rachel turned in panic and stepped on something.
*Crack!*
The sand beneath her suddenly turned into quicksand. Rachel's legs were trapped, her body falling. The dagger fell from her grasp.
Duckey walked closer, stepping on Rachel's wrist until a sickening *crack* of bone was heard.
"Lesson one: War is never fair."
Dex was on his feet before he realized it. But someone was faster.
"ENOUGH!"
The voice shook the arena. Liliana Lopes, the Headmistress, floated down from the teachers' stand. Her eyes glowed red.
Duckey raised his hands in an innocent gesture. "I was merely teaching, Headmistress."
Liliana stared at him coldly. "You have three seconds to remove your foot before I sever it."
The air vibrated. Even Duckey seemed to tense. Slowly, he lifted his foot from Rachel's wrist.
"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."
But his smile remained, as if all of this was going according to plan.
***
In the emergency room, Rachel shivered as healers tried to mend her wrist.
Her hands were clenched so tightly that her palms were pierced by her own nails. She ground her teeth in frustration; the feeling of powerlessness and weakness poured like hot oil onto the fire of hatred burning in her heart.
'Dammit, if only I could use that power, I would have torn him to pieces.'
Rachel desperately wanted to use the power given by Soneta, but she knew it was too dangerous for her to use it in front of a crowd.
'Damn it.'