Three months had passed, and Shiki managed to enter Vespera with ease. Although the entrance exams were notoriously difficult, for Shiki, it was merely a matter of rereading the materials a few times. With her photographic memory and innate brilliance, there was no problem she couldn't solve given enough time.
Perhaps the only real challenge was the personality test, considering her reputation as an arrogant girl which might have triggered Vespera's concerns regarding potential bullying. However, thanks to the connections and support of the Ganko family, that was easily settled.
Shiki ultimately secured the highest score on the entrance exam and was chosen to deliver the commencement speech as the representative of the freshman class. She didn't plan on giving a perfect speech because, to her, their future would be nothing like what these students imagined.
Even so, she delivered a speech good enough to leave a positive first impression. They were all potential allies and, eventually, Shiki's subordinates in the Procession Tower; thus, an initial impression was vital to ease her future recruitment efforts.
Once the principal's long and tedious speech finally ended, the new students were directed to their respective classrooms. The atmosphere in the hall, previously stiff with formality, gradually shifted into a chaotic hum of footsteps and conversation.
Shiki hadn't even managed to walk far before a crowd began to form around her. Fellow freshmen and several upperclassmen approached with an enthusiasm that bordered on excessive. Vespera might be known as a school for high-achievers from common families, but its status as the best in Ignisira still attracted many noble children. And among them all, Shiki stood as the indisputable center of attention.
In truth, interacting with others was not difficult for her. Shiki was neither awkward nor clumsy; she knew exactly how to read the room. Yet, the relentless flattery, the lingering stares, and the forced voices made her chest tighten. She recognized some of those faces. Behind their friendly smiles and polite demeanors were names that would one day be etched into her memory as part of the hell called the Procession Tower.
A fleeting impulse to erase them surfaced—sharp and cold.
But Shiki suppressed it.
She wasn't that foolish. Every reckless action could trigger a small change that might ripple into a major catastrophe. The butterfly effect was not mere theory; she had lived long enough to feel its consequences. The future she remembered was a weapon—and she had no intention of destroying it with her own hands.
Besides, the Shiki of old was dead.
The stupid girl they had trampled and toyed with was buried in a trash-filled basement. The Shiki standing before them now was someone different—someone reborn after meeting that violet-eyed man. She was no longer narrow-minded, nor did she allow emotion to dictate her decisions. She did not blame people for sins they had yet to commit.
However, that did not mean everyone could be left to live freely.
There were certain names she had to eliminate before the teleportation occurred. Not out of vengeance. Nor out of old hatred. In fact, some of them had been allies—good people who, in her previous life, had helped her survive.
It was precisely because of that that they were dangerous.
Their influence in the Procession Tower was too great. Their charisma and idealism were capable of uniting many Nagawira. In a world where absolute power determined everything, such traits could become serious obstacles to Shiki's ambitions. She didn't need hope or mercy. She needed absolute control.
The decision was born not of emotion, but of calculation.
At this moment, Shiki had truly let go of the desire for revenge. The hatred that once burned within her had been extinguished, leaving behind a cold and clear focus. To her, the past was merely a blurred shadow—a lesson, not a destination.
There was only one thing on her mind now: the Procession Tower.
And how to ensure that when the Bride War began, that world would be within her grasp.
As Shiki stepped into her classroom, the group of students that had been following her began to disperse. One by one, they took their leave and hurried to their own classes. It seemed the rules at Vespera were strict enough that even noble children dared not openly defy them.
In the end, only a handful of students remained—no more than the fingers on one hand. These were the students placed in the same class as Shiki.
It was no coincidence.
Shiki was in a specialized class, an elite tier reserved only for those who had proven themselves from an early age. Seated there were national-level Olympiad champions from middle school, young athletes whose names had graced television screens, and individuals with extraordinary potential. Class 1-A—the place that would one day give birth to the rulers of the Procession Tower.
Shiki recognized those faces one by one. Some she knew from reports and her own memories. This included Johan, the man who, in the future, would be known as the strongest spear user in the Procession Tower.
Nevertheless, none of them showed any intention of greeting her.
Shiki's status as a noble from the most powerful family in the land was not enough to make them bow their heads. Each was an elite with a sense of pride just as high as her own. Yet, as Shiki walked into the classroom, those gazes remained fixed on her—too long to be called a coincidence.
It wasn't out of respect. Nor was it out of fear of the Ganko name.
It was because of her beauty.
After Shiki sat at her desk—in the back row, right by the side windows—the students who had crowded her quickly moved to their own seats. No one wanted to draw attention any longer. Furthermore, their homeroom teacher would arrive soon, and no one wanted to be the first target on opening day.
Class 1-A sank back into a structured silence.
The soft sound of turning pages, the light tapping of fingers on monitor screens, and focused stares filled the room. Each student was occupied with their own world—either reading printed textbooks or browsing the school handbook, famous for its list of strict regulations.
Vespera High was not just a school.
It was a symbol of luxury, discipline, and the power of Ignisira—a place where only the best were permitted to sit, and only the strongest would survive.
The morning sunlight streamed gently through the high windows on the side of the classroom, illuminating the room with a soothing, warm glow. From there, the blue sky and the meticulously landscaped school gardens were clearly visible, as if reinforcing the impression of cleanliness and order that defined Vespera Academy.
The classroom was modern and pristine. At the front, a large screen replaced the conventional blackboard, ready to display whatever was needed for learning. The teacher's desk stood simple yet elegant, seamlessly integrated with the fully connected classroom system.
Each student had a private desk equipped with a digital screen that could be deployed or hidden as needed. Despite the dominance of technology, space for physical books remained available—granting every student the freedom to choose their own way of learning. The chairs were comfortable, the room temperature perfectly maintained, and the classroom atmosphere felt serene without being stiff.
Class 1-A reflected Vespera itself: an elite school that didn't just flaunt luxury, but also order and efficiency. Everything was prepared so that students could focus, grow, and compete—because in this place, only the best were deemed worthy.
Shiki finally turned toward her seatmate.