Black dragon.

[Anne's POV?]

The teacher stood by the board again, explaining a few details regarding the bodies of fiend type demons.

Dark bags hung on her eyes, and her sloppy handwriting made the explanation slightly harder to understand.

'Fortunately, I already know most of this stuff.'

Benefits of being an Apostle's daughter, I guess.

"Ahem, Lady Velliesta. Assuming an average Fiend-class Demon in the Flesh Refinement  realm has wings, how many hits can they take before they break and need to recover?"

'Looks like she chose me, again…'

"X."

She stared at me. "... What?"

"It depends on the factors involved in said strike. Does the attack come from a Red Dragon's Magic Circle? A Dwarf's Soul-Link Artifact? Or a Titan's physical attack after a morph? Did the cultivator have time to brace for the attack? What spot of those wings are being targeted? How much Mana or Miasma was infused into the attack? What was the demon's growth like?..."

I stopped to take a deep breath, and then finished my answer. An answer that the teacher didn't seem to like nor dislike.

"I suppose we can test it later…" she stated, while eyeing me.

The class continued without many hiccups or disturbances, until the topic of the Queen's marriage was brought up.

And another conflict erupted. 

On one hand, there were those arguing that the Queen should be more focused in the war, instead of selling herself to some long lost son of a Human Monarch like a glorified prostitute.

As for the other side, they firmly believed that she deserves a chance to make up for her past mistakes… By trying to end the war in a non-violent way.

For the autonomy of our lands and the pride of our ancestors, I think she should take a more hands-on approach on the conflict… But, as the Apostles say,

If your enemy is making a mistake, don't correct her.

"Are you even comprehending the absurdity of your own words?!" Yelled one of the demons arguing.

"What absurdity? Can't you see this IS a good thing?!"

The ring of a bell drowned out the teacher's sigh, indirectly telling most of us to leave.

"Freedom, at last," muttered one of my classmates, who headed towards the same class as I.

Combat Training... Even scholars need to know how to fight, considering the annoying existence of pure and half monsters.

'Hopefully, I won't have to do too much in today's class…'

…

'You have to be kidding me…'

Currently, I stood in the middle of an outdoor training ground, facing an opponent. So much for a "relaxing" and "quiet" day…

"Ahem, Miss Velliesta. Shall we commence?" voiced Whetarn Drek, the black dragon of the college.

… Quite literally. Even though we usually have an average of 2 or 3 dragons attending our classes, they're almost always red dragons.

This guy, along with a former pupil, are the only two black dragons who have ever wandered the halls of this place. Not as guests, but as formal students.

I sighed. "Let's go."

"Three."

… Two grotesque lumps of feathery, dark meat emerged from my back. They grew and took on an actual shape with each passing moment. 

"Two."

Similarly, grim scales sprouted all over the demonoid dragon standing ahead. Out of them, a pair of wings grew out.

"One."

… The two things on my back took on the winged form they were meant to have. 

Finally, an item materialized on my hand.

A large, sharp pen with a rather gray structure, and a white outline. A blue liquid dripped from its dark point.

"Start."

Chaotic flames erupted from the demon-like dragon's arms, who didn't hesitate in closing the gap between us. The wings gave him an additional boost to his speed, but…

Obscure magic hexagons appeared all over the battlefield, firing a few void arrows.

While he punched down most of the projectiles between us, creating a notably dark smokescreen, my own pair of trust-worthy wings sent me flying towards the illusory ceiling. The ceiling where the clouds rest.

This maneuver also helped me to disperse a great part of that void cloud.

Fortunately, doing that revealed the figure of my opponent, flying towards my current position. My pen, with a greatly enlarged and sharpened point, moved towards its target… The neck.

They connected… Partially. It landed on his shoulder, unfortunately.

However, he smiled.

'?'

A powerful, yet well compressed shockwave sent me flying. Multiple attacks landed on my front, but mainly my shield-acting wings. And on the 6th strike, they couldn't stand it anymore.

A kick to my back sent me down to the ground. The rolls on the dirt kicked up small heaps of dirt, before it finally stopped by a wall.

"Get up. It's impolite to attack a fallen opponent."

The demonoid dragon's voice, as calm and youthful as it may sound, still carried the weight of a black dragon's words.

A few other whispers accompanied it in the background. Whispers of various demons reached our ears, yet neither of us seemed to mind.

Because more often than not, their words tend to be that meaningless.

… I got up, and kept my gaze on my opponent.

He held his scale-washed shoulder, while breaths left his mouth at irregular intervals. Blood dripped down to the dirt… Both from his shoulder, and the tip of my pen.

An ominous energy flowed easily into a few magic hexagons, and… Whetarn's movements slowed down.

… No. They're as fast as always.

My speed had just increased.

"You're finally getting serious," he commented. 

We traded blows for approximately thirty seconds. 

He landed a few punches and spells at close range, but ultimately couldn't stand up to my pen.

The battle ended with me pointing my Ego to his neck. Enough to settle the battle.

"As expected… Well done, Lady Velliesta."

Most of the class clapped. As they were taught to, whenever a duel of this nature came to an end. Done purely to "congratulate" the two duelists.

Not for winning, losing, or participating, but for learning. 

For acquiring new knowledge.

… Yet, underneath this gesture, their true selves laid bare to the world. And so did mine… we all ignored it. And pretended.

That's what every… No. Most Demons know how to do that best.