I held perfectly still as the unknown adventurers spread out around me. The Archer on the roof nocked an arrow while the others advanced with practiced coordination. Their weapons gleamed in the morning light, well-maintained steel that could easily shred my new porcelain plating.

  I mean you no harm, I projected, but they flinched at the mental contact.

  "It's using magic!" Coyle, the mage, shouted. His hands burst into flames. "Some kind of mind attack!"

  "Hold formation," Marshes commanded, his dueling rapier's tip pointed steadily at my chest. "Don't let it escape."

  I could have told them how futile their weapons were against my true form, how even if they destroyed this mechanical body, they couldn't actually harm me. But that would only escalate things. Besides, I'd spent days crafting this new form, carefully shaping each porcelain plate and calibrating every joint. I didn't want to see it reduced to scrap.

  "STOP!" Mayor Antos burst through the town hall doors, his face red from exertion. "By Altinava's bountiful arse, Lower your weapons, all of you!"

  "Sir, stay back!" Jecker warned. "There's a monster-"

  "That's No Eyes, you fool!" Antos wheezed, clutching his side. "It's been living here for weeks, helping protect our village!"

  "What?" Marshes's rapier didn't waver.

  "Aye, saved a whole group of our folk from slavers in the Hellzone. Even stopped some raiders a few weeks ago without bloodshed." Antos straightened up. "It's an odd-looking fellow, sure, but he… she, whatever, has done nothing but help since arriving."

  Marshes studied me with narrowed eyes. I noticed his stance shift slightly, still ready but less aggressive. "I see." The middle aged adventurer lowered his blade. "Stand down," he ordered his team.

  The others hesitated, then slowly sheathed their weapons. The archer on the roof kept her bow half-drawn, but at least it was pointed toward the ground.

  "Andrim!" Marshes rounded on his companion. "What have I told you about raising false alarms? You nearly started a fight in the middle of town!"

  "But, sir, it looks like-"

  "Like someone who lives here peacefully, according to the mayor." Marshes turned to me and bowed deeply. "My sincerest apologies for my subordinate's rashness. We're here to protect the village, not harass their defenders."

  I watched Marshes's face carefully as he explained his presence. Despite his earlier aggression, there was an earnestness to his manner that seemed genuine.

  "Baron Holstoff sent us personally, after he received your messengers at Millbrook," he said, straightening his leather vest. "Though I admit it took some... persuasion."

  "Persuasion?" Antos's eyebrows shot up. "That old goat never listens to anyone."

  "One of your former townsfolk made quite an impression." Marshes smiled. "A merchant named Joras passed through Millbrook a week back. Apparently, he was one of the people that was rescued from Qordos."

  Joras. I remembered him, a well-dressed man who had kept mostly to himself during our journey. He'd mentioned having business contacts back at the capital, but the quiet man hadn't elaborated.

  "That pompous silk trader?" Antos barked out a laugh. "Should have known he'd have the Baron's ear. Half the nobles in the region owe him money."

  "He was... rather forceful in his suggestions to the Baron." Marshes's eyes flickered to me. "Told quite a tale about a mechanical warrior who led a slave revolt. Said the least the Baron could do was send proper protection to the village that harbored such a defender." The adventurer then looked me over, rubbing his bearded chin in though. "Sorry again about earlier. I didn't recognize you. You look nothing like what Joras described."

  I nodded my head, accepting his apology. New body, I explained, though that only seemed to confuse the adventurers more.

  Antos scratched his long beard. "Well, I'll be damned. Never thought I'd see the day Holstoff actually did something useful for Weath."

  "The Baron was particularly concerned when he learned there were raiders operating so close to his lands," Marshes added. "Can't have word getting around that he's letting bandits run loose in his territory. Bad for trade."

  I found myself appreciating Joras's subtle manipulation. He'd known exactly which strings to pull: the Baron's pride as well as his purse.

  "How long will you be staying?" Antos asked.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Until the raider threat is dealt with, at minimum." Marshes glanced at his team. "Though given what I've heard about this Gomka character, we may need to request reinforcements."

  Gomka. Already dealt with, I projected to the group. I confronted him and his raiders. At Henrik's farm.

  Marshes's eyebrows shot up. "When was this?"

  "Few weeks back," Antos said. "No Eyes here caught them before they could do harm to a third family."

  I explained how I'd found their camp through the goblin Vom, then intercepted the raiders before they could attack. Gomka offered me. A place with his group. I refused.

  "And he just... left?" Marshes frowned, fingers drumming on his rapier's hilt. "The same Gomka who's been terrorizing settlements for months? The one who leaves no survivors?" He shook his head. "With all due respect, I find that hard to believe. Every adventurer in the region's heard of Gomka and his crew. He's not known for backing down."

  You wouldn't have had. Same outcome, I told him bluntly. Gomka only withdrew because I'm a monster. Like him. If you tried to confront him. He would not bother to talk.

  "You don't know that-"

  I do. I cut him off. Gomka hates humans. Men, women, children. He kills them all, no exceptions.

  Marshes's face hardened. "And you let him go, knowing this?"

  Made choice to protect the family he was. Threatening. Fighting would have put them at risk. I turned my blank porcelain mask toward him. Would you have preferred. I engaged in combat while innocent people. Were in crossfire?

  That gave him pause. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "No... no, you made the right call." He sighed. "Though I wish you'd killed the bastard. He'll just move on to other targets now."

  Perhaps. I didn't mention Gomka's invitation to join other intelligent monsters in the Central Hellzone. It would be best to let him think the raiders had simply moved on. But he won't return here. He knows. I'm protecting Weath.

  "Well," Marshes scratched his beard, "seems the Baron's gold might be better spent elsewhere then. Though I'd still like my team to stay a while, if only to verify your story and make sure the raiders have truly moved on."

  I nodded my agreement. Having trained adventurers around might help ease some of the villagers' remaining fears about my presence.

  We gathered inside the town hall, settling around the large oak table where just days ago villagers had argued about my presence. The contrast wasn't lost on me as now these same walls witnessed careful planning rather than fearful accusations.

  "Tell us about each member of Gomka's gang," Marshes said, spreading out a worn map across the table's surface. "Numbers, weapons, anything you noticed."

  Ten raiders total, I projected. Gomka leads them. Level 14. Missing left tusk and right eye.

  Janis, their scout, leaned forward. "How do you know his exact level?"

  Analyze ability.

  "You have Analyze?" Coyle spoke up from where he'd been quietly observing. The mage's fingers twitched against his staff. "That's... unexpected. What rank?"

  Rank D. Only names and levels. Classes for humans, too. I turned my porcelain mask toward him. I could teach you. If you wish.

  Coyle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, adam's apple bobbing. "No, that's... I appreciate the offer, but no thank you."

  I noticed how he wouldn't meet my gaze, how his knuckles whitened around his staff. Even with my more human appearance, the thought of learning from a monster clearly disturbed him.

  "Continue about the raiders," Marshes prompted, breaking the awkward moment.

  I described the rest of Gomka's gang, listing out their names and levels as well as giving them thorough descriptions of each monster. I pointed to different locations on the map.

  Last saw them heading northeast.

  "Those are precise details," Andrim commented, the adventurer's eyes narrowing. "And you got all their names too?"

  Yes. Five of them were the same race as Gomka…

  "Orcs," Antos told me, giving a name to the monsters.

  I nodded my thanks to the old mayor before continuing.

  Their names were Throk and Vah. Both Level 7. Karm, Shofti, Grut were rest. Level 5. There were two small, lizard-like creatures.

  "Kobolds, most likely, if they were small," Marshes spoke up. "There are also lizardmen, but I hear they're quite large."

  Kobolds. Lizardmen. Orcs. There were a lot of monster races in the world; more so than there were human ones.

  I continued listing out the members of Gomka's crew: Archer kobold was Salzaren. Level 12. Other kobold is Kolkoda, Level 5. Two were goblins, Level 5. Yagsu and Orlu. There was also the slave, Vom. He was Level 1. Hope he escaped.

  "What a charming bunch," Antos muttered.

  Marshes made notes in a small leather book. "This information will be valuable to other adventuring parties in the region. Though I'm curious. How did you learn Analyze? It's not a common ability, especially among..." He hesitated.

  Monsters? I finished for him. Harke taught me. Before he left for Yorr.

  "The healer?" Coyle perked up. "He had Analyze?"

  Rank B.

  "Impressive," Marshes nodded. "Though it explains how he survived so long as an adventurer."

  I watched Coyle process this information, noting how his stance toward me shifted slightly. Learning that a respected healer had taught me seemed to ease some of his tension, though he still maintained his distance.

  The meeting wound down as the adventurers exhausted their questions. I'd given them everything I knew about Gomka's gang - their numbers, weapons, patterns of movement. Marshes closed his notebook with a satisfied nod.

  Antos pushed back from the table. "You'll need lodging. The Prim Priestess is our only inn, but Old Rowell will take good care of you." He gave them a knowing smile. "Tell him to send the bill to me. I'll forward it to our dear Baron later."

  The adventurers shared appreciative chuckles at that. I understood their amusement. The Baron who'd ignored Weath's pleas would now be paying for their rooms.

  Marshes rose, adjusting his sword belt. "No Eyes." He turned to me. "Let me buy you a meal at the inn. It's the least I can do after nearly starting a fight with you earlier."

  I noticed the subtle shifts in his companions' postures; the way Andrim's jaw tightened, of how Janis suddenly found the floor fascinating. Even Coyle, who'd warmed slightly during our discussion of Analyze, tensed at the thought of sharing a table with a monster.

  Appreciate the offer, I projected, but I don't need. To eat.

  "Don't need to eat?" Marshes's eyebrows rose, then his face broke into an intrigued smile. "You are quite the interesting person, aren't you?"

  Person. The word echoed in my mind. Not monster, not creature; person. It was a small thing, yet somehow it felt significant.

  The rest of his party filtered out, their boots scraping against the wooden floor. Their discomfort with my presence remained clear, but at least they no longer reached for their weapons when looking at me. Progress, however small, was still progress.