The Special Class met in the academy's highest tower, with windows that commanded views of the entire capital. When I entered, I found fewer than ten students inside—truly the elite of the Royal Academy.

Karen Valerius already occupied a window seat, his silver hair catching the morning light. He glanced up, eyes still calculating and sharp, but remained silent.


I chose a corner seat in the back row—neither too conspicuous nor limiting my view of classroom activities.

"Students, welcome to Ancient Magical Language."

The man who entered was an elderly professor of about sixty, with a neatly groomed beard and hawk-like eyes. This was Professor Conrad Strangerock, the empire's foremost authority on ancient texts.


"The ancient magical language is not merely a language, but the key to understanding magic's essence. You're all exceptionally gifted, but remember—a true magician must interpret the crystallized wisdom of our predecessors."

He drew a complex rune on the blackboard—a pattern of concentric circles and intersecting lines that radiated ancient mystery.


"We'll begin with this—a rune discovered in ancient ruins. Scholars have debated its meaning for three centuries. Can anyone offer an interpretation?"

The classroom fell silent. Students furrowed their brows in concentration, but none dared speak hastily. Even for top students, such ancient runes presented a formidable challenge.

But I recognized it immediately.

In my previous life, I'd examined countless ancient documents in my father's collection. After my rebirth, I'd reorganized those memories, including knowledge I hadn't fully appreciated then.

This particular rune had two possible interpretations, depending on one's analytical approach.

Just as I raised my hand, I heard a chair scrape nearby. Karen had also raised his hand.

Our simultaneous response visibly surprised Professor Conrad. He glanced between us before pointing to me.

"Miss Ethelgard, please share your thoughts."

I rose and began my analysis with measured confidence: "Examining the rune's basic structure, the outermost circle represents the binding and release of magical power. The key, however, lies in the intersecting lines within. Interpreted through the Third Era's ideographic system, this rune embodies the composite concept of 'seal' and 'revelation.'"

I approached the blackboard and indicated specific elements with my finger. "This triple spiral structure typically represents 'hidden truth' in Third Era literature. Therefore, the entire rune likely means 'revelation contained within a seal' or 'the key to hidden truth.'"

Professor Conrad's eyes brightened. "An interesting interpretation. Mr. Valerius, do you offer a different perspective?"

Karen rose with fluid grace, his voice deep and confident: "Miss Ethelgard's analysis has merit, but she's overlooked a crucial detail."

He approached the blackboard but took an entirely different analytical angle: "If we examine this pattern through the lens of the more ancient Second Era Runic System, we arrive at a completely different interpretation. The outer circle represents not 'constraint,' but 'cycle.' The intersecting lines signify not 'hidden truth,' but 'transmission of power.'"

He traced the rune's flowing lines with elegant fingers: "From a Second Era perspective, this rune should be interpreted as 'the eternal transmission of power' or 'the awakening of power within the cycle'—aligning with how Second Era mages conceptualized magical energy."

The classroom fell into stunned silence. The other students watched wide-eyed, clearly unprepared for such high-level academic discourse on the first day.

But I wasn't finished yet.

"Mr. Valerius offers an intriguing perspective," I returned to the blackboard, my tone measured, "but he's overlooked these minute etchings along the rune's edges. In documented Second Era manuscripts, such decorative elements appear exclusively in Third Era runes. This suggests we're examining a transitional artifact between eras."

I quickly sketched several comparative runes: "Analyzing it through both traditions yields: 'Seek the key to hidden truth within the cycle.' This interpretation marries the Second Era's cyclical power concept with the Third Era's pursuit of esoteric knowledge."

A flash of admiration crossed Karen's face, but he pressed on: "Miss Ethelgard's analysis shows impressive breadth, but neglects archaeological context. This rune was discovered in the frozen ruins of the Northern Territories—site of massive magical warfare at the Second Era's end. In that context, it likely served military purposes."

He sketched more complex patterns beside mine: "Given the historical context of the Northern Territories during that period, this rune likely represents a core military incantation—'a war power sealed within inheritance.'"

Now I was genuinely surprised. Karen's historical knowledge ran deeper than I'd anticipated—he even knew the rune's exact discovery location and historical context.

But I still had one card to play.

"Mr. Valerius's historical knowledge is impressive," I conceded, "but he's overlooked a crucial detail—this rune wasn't found in a military facility, but deep within an ancient library."

I studied the rune again, memories from my father's archives crystallizing in my mind: "If this rune truly served military purposes, why preserve it in a temple of knowledge? More logically, it represents knowledge itself—'wisdom revelation sealed within the cycle of inheritance.'"

Professor Conrad watched our exchange with undisguised delight. He glanced between us, eyes bright with surprise and satisfaction. For a scholar who'd dedicated his life to ancient runes, witnessing such discourse from first-year students must have been deeply gratifying.

"Extraordinary, simply extraordinary!" he exclaimed, actually clapping his hands. "Both analyses reach graduate-level standards. Miss Ethelgard approaches from pure runic theory, while Mr. Valerius employs historical-archaeological context—each offering unique insights."

He approached the blackboard and added his own notes: "Academic circles have long debated this very rune. Some champion the 'Seal Revelation' theory, others the 'Power Inheritance' interpretation, while a third camp emphasizes historical contextualization. The discourse I've witnessed today gives me great hope for academia's future."

When the bell rang, the classroom remained under the spell of our academic duel. Other students regarded Karen and me with newfound respect, clearly stunned by the depth of knowledge we'd displayed.

I gathered my books to leave, but Karen stepped into my path.

The silver-haired youth's gaze had sharpened, but beneath that edge lay unmistakable interest. In a voice meant only for my ears, he murmured: "You make an interesting opponent."

His words stopped me cold. I met his gaze; those deep blue eyes held no malice, yet they certainly weren't friendly. They reflected pure competitive spirit—the excitement of finding a worthy challenge.

"I didn't come here to make friends or enemies," I replied with equal coolness. "Only to acquire knowledge."

My detachment clearly surprised him. He'd probably expected a more emotional response, or at least some willingness to engage. Instead, he met only an impenetrable wall of ice.

"Acquire knowledge?" he echoed, his lips curving into the ghost of a smile. "Well then, I hope you won't find yourself surpassed in the process."

With that, he turned and strode from the room, silver hair catching the light as he disappeared through the doorway.

I watched him go, feeling nothing. The Eliana who could be easily provoked or moved was dead. Now, I focused solely on my goals.

But I had to admit—Karen Valerius was a rival worth watching.

The afternoon's practical magic class took place in the academy's training grounds—an enormous circular field ringed with protective enchantments to prevent accidents during practice.

Today's lesson focused on precise control of basic elemental magic. We were to direct fire, water, earth, and wind magic at specific markers on designated targets.

This presented no challenge. Though my previous life emphasized princess education, I'd never neglected basic magical training. And since my rebirth, intensive practice had elevated my control to unprecedented levels.

Just as I prepared my first fire spell, Lina Catrelia's saccharine voice floated from behind me.

"Miss Eliana, fancy meeting you in the same practice group."

I turned to find the chestnut-haired girl standing nearby. Her lips formed a sweet smile, but her eyes held something I recognized all too well—calculation and malice.

"Indeed." I replied curtly before turning back to my spell preparation.

But Lina wasn't finished. "I heard you were quite impressive in Ancient Magical Language this morning," she said with manufactured concern. "Everyone's seeing you differently now."

I didn't respond, focusing instead on gathering fire elements in my palm. A perfect fireball materialized—moderate temperature, flawless structure.

"However…" Lina's voice dripped with false worry, "I'm concerned you might be overexerting yourself. Physical health is so important, after all."

As she spoke, she began her own "practice." But I immediately noticed her suspicious positioning—diagonally behind me, with her spell trajectory ensuring she'd "inevitably" brush past me when moving.

Combat instincts from my previous life instantly flared. This girl planned to "accidentally" bump me during spellcasting, causing my magic to misfire. Public humiliation would be the best outcome—serious injury from magical backlash the worst.

How painfully naive.

I continued my spell preparation, moving to the second phase—layering wind magic over the fireball to create a stable composite spell.

Right on cue, Lina "accidentally" stepped backward during her "practice," her body angling toward mine.

For an ordinary student, avoiding such an "accident" while maintaining spell focus would be challenging. But I was far from ordinary.

The instant before impact, I sidestepped with fluid grace while releasing my spell. The perfectly fused fire-wind magic struck dead center of the target fifty meters away, leaving a flawless circular scorch mark.

Lina, missing her intended target, stumbled and nearly fell. She caught herself, her sweet smile momentarily twisting into something ugly.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry!" she gushed, recovering her act. "I didn't see you there…"

"It's fine," I replied coolly, already preparing my next spell. "Accidents happen… all the time."

My emphasis made Lina's expression freeze. She caught my meaning perfectly—I knew exactly what she was doing.

Throughout the session, Lina attempted several more "accidents"—"misdirected" spells, "mistaken" positioning, even deliberately letting her water magic "go wild" to soak my robes.

Each time, I evaded effortlessly while executing perfect spells. The political instincts honed in my previous life, my enhanced physical coordination after rebirth, and my foreknowledge of her character made her childish tricks utterly ineffective.

More importantly, each spell I cast drew gasps from watching students. My precise control of compound magic, smooth elemental transitions, and effortless elegance demonstrated abilities far beyond my peers.

By class end, Lina's expression had soured considerably. All her schemes had failed spectacularly, serving only to highlight my strength and composure.

"Lady Eliana is truly amazing," she forced through gritted teeth, her voice losing its sugary quality. "I have so much to learn."

"Indeed," I smoothed my robes, preparing to leave. "That's certainly true."

My merciless response shattered Lina's remaining composure. The sweet mask she'd maintained all afternoon cracked, revealing a flash of pure hatred in her eyes.

But she quickly recovered, slipping back into her pitiful persona. I had to admit—as the story's designated heroine, her acting skills were impressive.

Unfortunately for her, she no longer faced an Eliana who could be manipulated by such transparent tactics.

As I left the practice field, I spotted Karen waiting by the exit. When he saw me, that calculating gleam returned to his deep blue eyes.

He'd clearly witnessed everything—Lina's pathetic schemes and my effortless counters.

"Interesting," he murmured before turning away.

Sunset painted the practice field in gold and shadow. My first day had introduced two very different opponents—one worthy of respect, one deserving only contempt.

But regardless, my goal remained unchanged.

In this academy, I would prove my worth through absolute strength and gain power sufficient to protect myself and my family. Those who blocked my path—whether through open challenge or hidden scheme—would be crushed without mercy.

This was the creed of the reborn Eliana von Ethelgard: The strong rule, and power is supreme.