I Became a Murderer in the Academy.-Chapter 107

Iria’s duel was drawn out, taking time and drawing attention. Amelia had to endure prolonged strikes from Iria.

It seemed as if Iria was intentionally prolonging the fight to torment her.

"She’s scary at this point, isn’t she? I didn’t think Iria was this fierce."

"Didn’t you hear? Apparently, Amelia started some nasty rumors about Iria."

"Well, that makes sense then. I heard the people Iria beat up were all Amelia’s cronies—the ones spreading those rumors about her."

"So it’s karma, huh? Not that I ever liked Amelia anyway. Seriously, she shouldn’t have provoked a quiet person like that."

Given her past actions, no one felt sympathy for Amelia now. They simply watched Iria’s unrestrained violence in silence.

"But it does seem like Iria is pretty strong. She might be on the same level as Ariel."

"The academy standards have risen a lot. How do they manage to produce monsters two years in a row?"

"...I’d better not end up like that."

The spectators had mixed reactions.

Some were awestruck by Iria’s strength, some were terrified.

And some...

"Wow... is she into sadism?"

"She looks incredibly hot like this."

"With that face and those preferences, she’s basically walking sex."

"Watch your mouth, idiot. You’ll end up like Amelia."

"Sounds good to me."

There were those who even liked Iria's ruthless side.

As much as some disliked her, there were others who admired her.

Some of these admirers had been paying attention to Iria since her duel with Lucia.

"Is this really the average at a top-tier academy?"

Wasn’t it dangerous to talk about Iria so openly?

Surprisingly, Iria didn’t pay them any attention.

She had hit some people like them while dealing with the third-year students, but they had enjoyed it, so she stopped.

Iria had thought her capacity for disgust had faded with her emotions long ago, but apparently, that wasn’t entirely true.

It was unsettling how some seemed to enjoy the pain, so she left them alone.

Those people became the only ones at the academy who dared mention Iria by name.

When the duel with Amelia ended, the sun had already set.

Considering the number of duels she’d fought that day, it was no surprise. She’d lost count halfway through.

Once it was over, she could hear the murmurs of people around her, just as usual.

Rumors were usually spread like this, carried in hushed voices. Though it was a faint noise to most, it reached her ears clearly.

Today, however, she wasn’t the subject of those whispers.

The academy was as bustling as ever, but no one was talking about her.

The mockery and derision were now directed at Amelia.

This was a common pattern at the academy—a place where students gathered and competed against each other academically.

Unless one had special means like hers, it was impossible to stop rumors from spreading by sheer personal effort.

Amelia would likely endure a similar fate from now on. Iria had no intention of stopping it.

Did that make this fair?

"......"

Perhaps not.

Amelia was suffering the same treatment she’d inflicted on Iria, but her time would be much longer and harder.

So, were Iria’s actions justified?

She couldn’t find an answer to that. She knew from experience that it wouldn’t resolve even if she thought about it deeply.

Sera praised her, saying she did well. Ariel... well, he had something different to say.

"Violence isn’t the best way to solve problems. But in this case, your actions might’ve taught Amelia a lesson. She needed to fix that attitude of hers someday."

"......"

"That’s what you were aiming for, right? You didn’t want to hurt her directly, so you waited until she put up her barrier."

She’d waited because hitting her directly might have killed her.

There seemed to be some misunderstanding, but Iria didn’t bother correcting him. She didn’t have the words for it, and she didn’t feel a need to explain.

After all the events, her day was finally over. The sun had set, and the sky had darkened in preparation for tomorrow.

Returning home, she washed up, lay down on her bed with her hair still wet.

She didn’t dry it because it was bothersome. Taking care of her hair, which had grown unnecessarily long, wasn’t easy.

So she just lay there, accepting the dampness of the sheets over the warmth of her bed.

It wasn’t unbearable for sleep. After all, she’d once slept in the streets alongside garbage.

"Tomorrow, then."

She was always deep in thought, but today it felt particularly intense.

No wonder, as tomorrow was the day of her meeting with Albert.

She would finally meet Serthia, the Academy Chancellor she’d only heard about in rumors.

What kind of person was the wizard who’d slain the Demon Lord?

She wouldn’t be an easy opponent. Serthia might be hostile towards someone like Iria, who carried a fragment of the Demon Lord.

According to records, Serthia at her peak had strength comparable to a Hero with a holy sword.

This could very well be Albert’s plan to lure her in and assassinate her.

Visiting the Empire’s headquarters to meet Serthia was no different from stepping into enemy territory alone. It was a considerable risk.

But—

"......"

It was worth it.

Serthia was a relic from the time of Heroes and Demon Lords. She likely had valuable knowledge about this world.

The truth behind the world that had dragged her into hell—Serthia probably knew it.

‘If I die there.’

That wouldn’t be so bad.

Death was less frightening than the punishment of suffering. For one steeped in pain, death was a form of release.

Still, she wasn’t going there to die.

Once, she’d been a wretched monster who thought only of death, but that was no longer the case.

If this world was indeed a novel and Ariel its protagonist...

"How will it end, and what am I in this world?"

She had once hated, and still hated, this world.

Yet she found herself wanting to see how it would end.

Was this change due to Ariel?

Perhaps. The protagonist of this novel, whom she had observed up close, was more remarkable than she had imagined.

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Albert had said Serthia wanted a ‘conversation’ with her.

She didn’t know what Serthia meant by that, but Iria had many questions for her as well.

Before sleeping, she glanced at the Demon Lord fragments lying around.

She had consumed one out of five, leaving four.

Perhaps she should consume another, given she was meeting someone so formidable.

"......"

No, she’d consume two.

It wasn’t out of hunger, but a desire for power.

She really wasn’t doing it because she was hungry.

Here she was in Serthia’s office. Or rather, Serthia’s former office.

She greeted her visitor in a weakened state.

With blue hair, half-closed eyes, and glasses that softened her sharp gaze.

Only one person would visit Serthia’s office now that she’d stepped down as Chancellor.

"Albert. Tomorrow, isn’t it?"

"Yes."

Albert looked at his former mentor with a somber expression. Serthia was visibly deteriorating.

She was close to death, and used holy water injections to extend her life just a little longer.

The holy water slowed the spread of the dark mana in her body.

For a moment, her color returned, and her irregular breathing steadied. With clearer eyes, she turned to Albert again.

She spoke to him with authority.

"The meeting place will be outside the Empire."

"Do you have a reason?"

"The back-alley monster is an enemy of the Empire. Things might get bloody, and I don’t want to involve Imperial citizens."

"......"

Albert swallowed a long silence.

He understood the meaning behind Serthia’s words.

Using her power would kill her. To be precise, she was already dying, but it would hasten the end.

If necessary, she was prepared to put her life on the line to take the back-alley monster down with her.

It was a tragic truth, but he couldn’t deny her words.

He simply stood there, waiting for her to speak again.

"Leave the Empire and head east. There’s a private underground room. We can meet there without issues."

"......"

"I’ll be waiting there. Albert, can you bring her? I’ll give you the address."

"Of course."

The night in the Empire grew deeper.