Rae Vermont had carved a reputation for herself at the Royal Academy—a reputation both admired and feared. After her spectacular victory in a duel with an older student shortly after her enrollment, she earned the title of "Princess Violence." Her decisive and often ruthless methods only added to the legend, particularly the memory of her infamous duel with Oliver Greythorne, a rising star among the academy's students.
Oliver had been a prodigy—a swordsman with silver hair, piercing blue eyes, and a natural charm that captivated noblewomen and commoners alike. But despite his effortless popularity, his obsession with Rae bordered on fixation. It baffled everyone that he seemed to revere the very woman who had blinded his left eye during their Lumley duel. From attempting to join her faction to begging her to take him as her student, Oliver's relentless pursuit became the talk of the academy.
To Rae, however, he was little more than a nuisance. "Keep him away from me," she instructed Eleanor on more than one occasion. Yet, Oliver's persistence knew no bounds, and whispers of their odd dynamic circulated among the students, overshadowing Rae's accomplishments as a newly appointed student professor.
But Rae had little patience for gossip. Her days were carefully structured, focused on self-improvement, and devoted to uncovering secrets of life and death.
Mornings in Rae's household began early. By the time the sun was just peeking over the horizon, Rae was already leading Eleanor and Ivy on a brisk five-kilometer run. The workout didn't end there—afterward came rigorous sword drills. Ivy was competent with a blade, though her hand-to-hand combat left much to be desired. Rae had taken it upon herself to correct this weakness, guiding Ivy through grapples, counters, and striking techniques. Ivy's quick learning impressed Rae, even if there was still room for improvement.
Eleanor, on the other hand, was a different challenge. Despite her vampiric strength giving her a physical edge, her lack of discipline often left her floundering. She struggled with both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat, relying too much on her natural abilities to overpower Ivy in sparring. Rae saw Eleanor's untamed strength as both a blessing and a curse—an advantage wasted without proper control. Training her was a slow, uphill battle, but Rae wasn't one to abandon a challenge.
After sparring and a cold shower, the group convened for breakfast. Eleanor or Pico, a recent addition to Rae's faction, usually prepared the meals. Pico had quickly become an invaluable member of their household, her cooking and organizational skills ensuring their mornings ran smoothly. The meal was both a reprieve from training and a preparation for the day ahead, which often included lectures, practice, and battles of wit and magic.
At the academy, Rae divided her time between attending advanced lectures and teaching as a student professor. She sought to expand her knowledge in areas like potion-making and magic weapon creation. Potion-making fascinated her—the meticulous process of infusing mana into water, adding minerals, filtering the mixture, boiling it, and finally bottling the result. Even the simplest mana potion required precision and focus.
Magic weapon creation was even more intricate, though the academy only taught it in theory. The actual forging process—heating a weapon to a molten state and etching circuits with elemental shards—was forbidden on campus due to the dangers of mana explosions. Rae found the hypocrisy amusing but understood the caution. Elemental shards, rare and expensive, determined the weapon's attribute, allowing nobles without innate affinity to wield elemental power like pseudo-mages.
Teaching, however, was where Rae's true challenges—and triumphs—lay. Her first day as a student professor had been marked by a public challenge from an older student.
"You're too young to teach us anything," the student had sneered, his tone laced with disdain. "Some of us have more experience than you. I challenge you to a duel. The winner gets their request honored by the loser."
Calm and composed, Rae had chosen a contest of spell creation—a test of speed and ingenuity. In under a minute, she had overwhelmed him, crafting twice as many spells as her opponent. Her request had been simple: for him to relax and learn. The demonstration not only silenced dissent but also sparked curiosity among her students, particularly about her mastery of silent casting.
Rae approached teaching with precision, starting with the basics of her and Merle's mana circuit theory and the integration of magic symbols. Teaching her techniques felt like introducing an entirely new language, and many students struggled at first. Rae's patience, however, proved invaluable. She offered a crucial insight when frustration mounted.
"Your spells aren't working because you're not imbuing mana into your words," she explained teaching spell abridging. "Without mana, your spell names are empty—just like incomplete magic circles. Strong visualization and concentration are key to creating mana words."
Her advice marked a turning point. The students began to grasp the concept of mana words, and their progress in abridged spellcasting accelerated. Though magic circles remained a challenge, Rae was satisfied with their ability to produce spells with just names, cutting their casting time significantly.
Her teaching prowess attracted attention beyond her students. One day, a professor from the chanting department challenged her to a duel—a battle restricted solely to spellcasting. Though Rae emerged victorious, the duel highlighted critical flaws in her technique. Her reliance on wind magic for evasion, the inefficiency of her barrier magic, and her slow transitions between elemental spells all became apparent. Determined to address these weaknesses, Rae threw herself into rigorous experimentation.
Evenings were devoted to refining her craft. Rae drew inspiration from Merle's theories to design a barrier device—a small mithril object inscribed with circuits capable of generating a protective field when infused with mana. While expensive, the device allowed her to cast spells without compromising mobility. She also explored hybrid magic circles, combining multiple elements to create versatile spells that minimized transition time.
Despite the challenges of the day, Rae always found time to spar with Professor Arnold. Their matches sharpened her combat skills and forced her to adapt her strategies. By the time Rae returned home, she was both physically and mentally drained, but the open-air springs of the mansion offered her a sanctuary. The steaming water soothed her aching muscles, and while she often shared the space with Eleanor, Ivy, and Pico, she found their chatter comforting.
Beneath her composed exterior, Rae's true focus remained. Every duel, every lecture, every experiment served a singular purpose: unraveling the secrets of magic and resurrection. For Rae Vermont, power was not an end but a means—a means she was willing to pursue at any cost.
While Rae's evenings always end spectacularly, this one ended with another summons.
What did I do now? she thought