On the morning of the first day of school, autumn's breath swept through the capital's streets with a hint of coolness. I sat in an inconspicuous black carriage, watching familiar scenery roll by outside my window.

Unlike the ornate carriages of my previous outings, today I chose the plainest one in the manor. No Ethelgard family crest, no golden decorations—even the horses were ordinary browns instead of our prized stallions.


"Miss, are you certain you don't want a more… presentable carriage?" Old Thomas, the coachman, asked. The man had served our family for over twenty years and clearly couldn't fathom my decision.

"No need. This is perfect." I smoothed my equally plain academy uniform. "From today onwards, I want people to see my abilities, not my background."

Old Thomas caught my eye in the mirror, hesitated, then simply nodded and returned his focus to the road.


The Royal Academy of Magic dominated a hill in the northern district—a vast complex where tall spires pierced the clouds and ancient stone walls wore cloaks of ivy. Every inch of the place breathed knowledge and power.

The carriage halted before the academy gates. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out.


Instantly, the surrounding chatter died.

Hundreds of new students and their parents froze, all eyes locking onto me. I felt the weight of those stares—curiosity, contempt, schadenfreude—a toxic cocktail of emotions.

"Look, isn't that the Ethelgard girl? The one the prince dumped?"

"She actually has the nerve to show up at the Academy?"

"I heard she made quite the scene when he broke it off."

"Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful for someone of her standing."

Whispers assaulted me from all sides, but I maintained perfect posture, deaf to their gossip. My training as a duke's daughter had taught me to maintain elegance in the most difficult situations. And dying once? Well, that makes petty criticism rather meaningless.

I walked toward the registration desk with measured steps, each one perfectly steady. The crowd parted before me like water, though their pointing and muttering never ceased.

"Admission letter, please." The woman at registration spoke coldly, not bothering to look up. When she saw the name on my letter, her eyebrows twitched slightly before she forced her face back to professional neutrality.

"Eliana von Ethelgard. Proceed to the testing plaza for class placement. The test begins in one hour."

I nodded, tucked away my documents, and headed for the testing plaza.

The class placement test took place in a spacious stone plaza. A raised platform dominated the center, surrounded by tiered seating for spectators. New students huddled in small groups—some frantically reviewing basic spells, others chatting nervously with friends.

I found a secluded corner and pulled out "Revised Basic Magical Theory"—one product of my recent research that combined advanced theories from my previous life with basic magic principles to create entirely new insights.

"Attention all new students! The class placement test will now begin!"

An authoritative voice boomed across the plaza. The speaker—an elderly man with a graying beard, gold-trimmed wizard robe, and crystal-headed staff—was Professor Reynold, the academy's academic director.

"The rules for the class placement test are simple," Professor Reynold's magically amplified voice carried across the square. "Each student will demonstrate a basic spell. We'll evaluate your spell completion, mana control, and innovation to determine your class placement."

He paused, scanning the sea of nervous faces below.

"The Special Class admits only five students. First Class takes fifteen, Second Class thirty. The rest enter Regular Class. We'll proceed in registration order."

First up was a blond youth who cast a textbook-perfect fireball. Its size and temperature earned an approving nod from Professor Reynold.

Student after student followed, showcasing their talents. Some conjured ice spikes, others crafted wind blades, while the bolder ones attempted complex composite spells. As befitting those admitted to the Royal Academy, their skills impressed.

"Next, Eliana von Ethelgard."

When my name echoed across the plaza, silence fell like a heavy curtain. All eyes locked onto me again as whispers rippled through the crowd.

I closed my book and approached the platform with measured steps. Though the stairs were steep, my pace remained steady and elegant. Standing center stage before hundreds of staring eyes, I felt nothing but calm.

In my previous life, I'd delivered speeches in grand banquet halls and fought for family interests in cutthroat political arenas. After facing actual death, this scrutiny meant nothing.

"Miss Ethelgard." The middle-aged woman overseeing the test barely masked her contempt. "Given your… special circumstances, perhaps you should demonstrate something simple. A Light Orb Spell, perhaps?"

Her tone dripped with disdain, as if she'd already decided I was just another noble brat who'd bought her way in. Snickers rippled through the crowd—vultures waiting to see me fail.

"Light Orb Spell," I repeated, my lips curving into the ghost of a smile. "A very good suggestion."

I raised my right hand, fingers naturally splayed. No complex gestures. No lengthy incantations. Not even a whisper of magical fluctuation.

But in the next heartbeat, a perfect orb of light materialized in my palm.

This was no ordinary light orb. Its surface gleamed mirror-smooth, without a hint of magical leakage. The light burned stable and pure—a miniature sun cradled in my hand.

Most critically was the orb's internal structure. Anyone who could see through its luminous surface would discover intricate magical circuits of breathtaking complexity. Each magical line precisely controlled, forming a perfectly balanced system.

This wasn't merely a Light Orb Spell—this was an artistic masterpiece that pushed the theory to its absolute limit.

The plaza fell silent. Students who'd been eagerly awaiting my humiliation now stared wide-eyed, jaws slack. Even the testing teacher stood frozen, utterly speechless.

I held the orb steady and asked calmly: "Is this acceptable?"

"This… how is this possible?" The teacher finally found her voice, though it trembled with shock. "The stability and magical purity… this far exceeds any basic spell standard!"

I gently closed my fist. The orb instantly dissolved, leaving no trace behind—a perfect conclusion that further stunned the watching experts.

Just then, I felt a gaze cutting through the crowd. A silver-haired youth about my age watched me with eyes that held composure and wisdom far beyond his years.

More importantly, his look wasn't shock or curiosity, but careful assessment and… was that a spark of rivalry?

He could see the true skill hidden within my seemingly simple spell. This was no ordinary student.

"Karen Valerius." I silently committed the name to memory. House Valerius—a great northern noble family renowned for producing exceptional mages. If memory served, this silver-haired youth was their genius heir.

In my previous life, focused on becoming a princess, I'd paid little attention to rising stars in magical circles. But after reorganizing my memories, I realized this Karen might be my greatest rival on the path to magical mastery.

Interesting. It had been a long time since I'd encountered a worthy opponent.

"Eliana von Ethelgard," Professor Reynold's voice cut through my thoughts, "Special Class."

Though expected, the announcement still caused a stir. From universal mockery to shocking the entire venue to receiving the highest placement—this dramatic reversal left many struggling to process what they'd witnessed.

Just as I turned to leave, a commotion erupted at the plaza entrance.

"Prince Theo has arrived!"

The crowd parted like a wave. Golden hair, chiseled features, elegant royal uniform—Prince Theo's arrival instantly commanded everyone's attention.

Beside him, a beautiful girl with flowing chestnut hair timidly clutched his sleeve. Her eyes brimmed with tears, the perfect picture of vulnerability.

Lina Catrelia. The so-called "commoner genius"—actually this world's designated female protagonist.

"Your Highness, I'm so frightened… what if Lady Eliana still hates me?" Lina's voice was soft enough to seem private, yet perfectly audible to all the right ears.

Her performance was flawless. Fear expressed just right, concern perfectly reasonable, dependence on her "hero" utterly convincing. Any normal young man would feel his protective instincts surge.

"Don't worry, Lina." Prince Theo patted her shoulder, his voice dripping with self-righteousness. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

As he spoke, his gaze found me on the stage. Those blue eyes—once filled with love—now blazed with warning and hostility.

"Eliana." He pitched his voice to carry. "I hope you won't take out your anger on innocent people because of what happened. Lina did nothing wrong. Everything was my decision."

The venue fell silent again. Everyone waited breathlessly for the drama to unfold. The scorned ex-fiancée, the noble prince, the innocent new love—a melodrama as old as time.

According to their script, I should now scream hysterically, dissolve into pitiful tears, or hurl angry accusations. I should embody every negative stereotype of the scorned woman, making our heroic couple shine brighter by comparison.

But sorry, I had absolutely zero interest in playing that role.

I turned slowly, regarding them with the cool detachment one might give to strangers. No anger. No hurt. Not even a flicker of emotion. As if they were random passersby on a crowded street.

Then I simply turned and descended the steps without a word.

My reaction clearly blindsided Theo. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Faced with my complete indifference, any words would have seemed hollow and weak.

Lina's performance faltered without my reaction to play against. Her carefully prepared tears and lines hung useless in the air as she stood there, momentarily lost.

As I passed them, I caught Lina's whisper: "Miss Eliana… what happened to her?"

What happened to me?

I sneered inwardly. This was the real me. That foolish girl who lost herself for love had died on the guillotine. Standing here now was Eliana von Ethelgard—reborn with cold rationality and the hunger for power.

As I left the plaza, I felt that penetrating gaze again. Karen Valerius watched me, the interest in his eyes burning even brighter than before.

Very well. If he wanted to challenge me, let him try.

This time, I would show the world what true power meant.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the academy's spires gleamed like molten gold. Today marked only the beginning. The real battle had yet to begin.

And God help me, I could hardly wait.