"Santa Maria College, I’m back again."

Inside a modestly luxurious black carriage, Ariel Bugard lifted a corner of the curtain. Her gaze passed through the towering gate guarded by colossal statues, settling on the solemn architecture hidden further within.

Santa Maria College.

One of the Empire’s most prestigious academies, boasting an unparalleled faculty and educational resources, it was the holy grail of countless scholars’ dreams.

There was a common saying about Santa Maria College: even if a lowly toad were to enter, by the time they graduated, they would have transformed into a graceful and noble swan.

Of course, this was just an exaggeration, but it did serve to highlight the prowess of the academy.

"Has it really been an entire year?"

Ariel's eyes revealed a hint of wistfulness.

A year ago, after the death of her mother, she was taken back by her father, Count Bugard, and elevated overnight from a commoner to the third daughter of the Bugard countship.

But being the third daughter of a count hadn’t helped her much. Instead, her status as an illegitimate child had subjected her to discrimination and hostility from those in the academy who prided themselves on being "pureblooded" nobles.

Among them, the worst was Moen Campbell—a person Ariel detested to the core.

He constantly found fault, set up hurdles for her, and every time they met, he would sneeringly call her a "filthy servant tainted by lowly blood."

And the most infuriating thing? He was engaged to none other than Princess Celicia!

How could he be worthy!

Celicia was so elegant and refined, so radiant—a peerless beauty. Ariel had long reserved the throne in her own crystal palace for none other than Celicia.

Moen Campbell, how could he possibly measure up!

How disgraceful. If it weren’t for the almighty halo of being the son of a duke, Ariel would have long shaken that blockhead's brain into proper alignment and then kicked him to the curb to prevent him from bouncing around polluting the environment.

Still, one small consolation was that even if she didn’t take him down herself, Moen Campbell was a failure in his own right.

Arrogant, incompetent, and obliviously self-important.

It was said that over the course of an entire school year, he had only managed to master one spell—the Lighting Spell—an accomplishment that had left Professor Pulan from the magic department so exasperated she lost three nights of sleep.

Every time Ariel saw him leveraging his status as the princess’s fiancé to approach Celicia, she couldn’t help but find it amusing.

Go ahead, keep trying. Can’t you see the disdain in Celicia’s eyes?

For someone as icy and aloof as her, clingy pests like him must be the most intolerable irritants.

"If one truly wishes to ‘woo’ Celicia, they must follow my example—steadily improving themselves, then approaching her strategically and methodically."

Ariel smirked, her lips curving into her signature rakish grin.

"In just one year, I’ve not only progressed rapidly, growing from an ordinary person who had never even seen magic to securing the position as the top student in the entire grade.

And during the short two-month break, I managed to surpass my two foolish elder brothers and legitimately attain the status of heir to the countship.

I imagine even Celicia wouldn’t be able to ignore me now.

The time has come—to use the excuse of seeking guidance on swordsmanship to get closer to her, subtly initiate contact, and steadily build up goodwill.

Given time… heh, Celicia is bound to be mine!"

Ariel clenched her fist, secretly cheering for her flawless plan.

After straightening the bow tie of her academy uniform, she stepped out of the carriage, her heart full of hope and excitement as she walked through the grand gates of the academy.

"Well, well, isn’t this the filthy servant tainted with lowly blood? No wonder the air around the academy reeks; turns out it’s because of you."

Unfortunately, her cheerful mood didn’t last long before being rudely interrupted by a group of impertinent fools.

Ariel raised her eyes, her gaze turning icy as she looked at the privileged young noblemen blocking her path.

"Emon, following another one of your master’s orders to bark at me again?"

Though Moen Campbell, the duke’s son, had long-earned his reputation for infamy, and few willingly associated with him, there were always opportunistic curs hungry for power who would readily act as his lackeys.

Emon was the loudest among Campbell’s pack of dogs.

"Bark? I don’t like that term."

Emon stepped closer to Ariel, using his height to look down on her, and sneered coldly.

"Ariel Bugard, raised by commoners, you truly lack any semblance of etiquette. Is this how you address your senior?"

"I speak to people as individuals and to dogs as dogs. Staying considerate and treating all equally has always been my life philosophy."

At the word "commoners," a glint of frost flashed in Ariel’s eyes as she replied, "Do you have any other business, senior? If not, would you kindly step aside? Unlike you, I don’t have time to waste on pointless matters."

"Hmph, since you’ve put it that way, I won’t beat around the bush."

With a snap, Emon flung his glove to the ground before Ariel.

"I challenge you, Ariel Bugard!"

"Huh?"

Ariel blinked in surprise.

Again?

How many times had they challenged her already?

Last semester alone, there had been at least three challenges.

Seriously, one after another, like lambs lining up for slaughter.

"Hmph! Sending Gru last time was a mistake, you've been underestimated. Who would have thought you'd break through during the fight?

But this time is different. This time, I’ll confront you personally! I’ll ensure you taste the bitter humiliation of defeat and make you the laughingstock of the entire academy!" Emon declared venomously.

No, you’re a fourth-year challenging a second-year. Even if I lose, it wouldn’t make me a laughingstock.

On the contrary, you initiating the challenge is hardly something to boast about.

Ariel felt too drained even to retort.

Honestly, she wondered if these people had spent so much time following Moen Campbell that their brains were now stuffed with tofu.

"Here we go again."

"Poor Ariel, always getting caught up in their mess."

"Sigh, why hasn’t anyone stepped up to deal with that despicable Campbell yet?"

"Shh, lower your voice. Don’t let them hear you."

The crowd gradually began to gather.

Most were ordinary students who didn’t care about Ariel’s status as an illegitimate child, so their sentiments were largely sympathetic—some even silently cheering her on.

"Ariel, you’ve got this! I know you can do it!"

Of course, there were others offering more realist opinions:

"Sigh, Ariel’s in trouble this time. Emon is one of the top students in the fourth year, nicknamed Campbell’s Wolf. His Blood Wolf Summoning is exceptional, earning praise even from many professors. As Moen Campbell’s most formidable henchman, he’s far more dangerous.

Even though Ariel defeated Gru, a third-year, last time, facing Emon might just be too much."

"…"

Hearing all these “rational” analyses, Ariel’s lips twitched slightly.

It sounded exactly like what she had heard for every previous match—the wording barely changed, just the names swapped.

And yet, she had crushed their expectations every single time.

This time would be no different.

A glint of battle readiness sparked in Ariel’s eyes as her blood began to pump.

Campbell’s Wolf? So be it—this could serve as a great test of the progress she made during the two-month holiday.

And defeating a fourth-year right after entering her second year? Such a shocking achievement could further convince Celicia to pay attention to her.

Ariel’s smile widened into a sly grin. "Alright, I accept—"

But just as she was about to agree, she noticed the crowd suddenly stirring, low murmurs spreading.

"It’s Moen Campbell!"