“What bad luck—why is she here too?” Samimi stood with her hands behind her back, staring intently at that ominous figure, mumbling to herself.
Technically speaking, it made perfect sense for Bemore to be at the Continental Magic Academy—she was a legitimate and outstanding flame mage.
You, on the other hand, a useless little penitent nun crawling with guilt worms, being here—that’s the real anomaly!
But that wasn’t the point. The point was the group that Bemore belonged to.
They were a cluster of young mages cloaked in deep crimson robes, likely the oft-mentioned Flame Faction.
All of them were fire mages. Among all the elemental factions, they had the largest numbers, the strongest influence, and the most complete magical system.
Those who awakened fire magic talent were considered elite in the magical world.
Even someone like Bemore—once the main explosive output in the Hero’s Party—when she returned to the Academy and her loyal Flame Faction, could only stand somewhere in the middle of the formation. She wasn’t even close to the top.
That meant there were several flame mages her age who surpassed her in strength. Their positioning was intentional—arranged strictly by status.
But if that’s all you saw, you only understood the surface. Samimi, meanwhile, had already seen through five layers of meaning.
First, Bemore’s true strength: she was without a doubt the strongest among the younger generation of flame mages!
She might lose to elites from other professions or be countered by mages of different elements, but if it came down to fire-versus-fire, no one in the world could beat her in a straight-up duel.
This was known as “strongest of the same class”—undefeated in internal battles, but a pushover externally.
So why was she relegated to a mediocre position within the Flame Faction? Half of it was due to political games, the other half due to personality.
Bemore had been an acerbic, petty girl in the Hero’s Party—always calculating, quick to mock, sarcastic to the core, a walking pressure-cooker.
Compared to her, even the short-tempered and tsundere Holy Knight Fabiana seemed like an angel.
But back at the Academy, Bemore had transformed into a silent, socially anxious girl.
Among the Flame Faction, she never dared to speak up or show her true strength—afraid of outshining her senior peers, afraid of being isolated. She would rather fade into the middle than stand out.
There was no Hero to protect her here. At the Academy, she was just a fatherless daughter with no background. Her seniors all hailed from prestigious magical families—there was no comparison.
This extreme environment forged the dual-faced Bemore: the feared white-haired witch on the outside, but an invisible, self-doubting girl in the world of magic.
As a transmigrator, Samimi saw it all clearly. She was already five steps ahead.
So even if Bemore found out Samimi was also at the Academy, she likely wouldn’t cause any trouble.
At her core, she was a socially anxious introvert—not the type to hound people like Fabiana. More likely, she’d avoid Samimi as much as possible.
Which meant—Samimi didn’t need to worry about her at all.
“Hmph. Boring.”
Samimi gradually lost interest in the whole assessment day. It had nothing to do with her anyway. She sat down, ready to resume her self-study.
“Sister,” Niubao suddenly whispered.
“Hm?” Samimi then noticed something was off.
A group of flame faction students in red cloaks had gathered in the corridor outside their Basic Magic Theory classroom.
At the doorway appeared none other than Rebecca—accompanied by a cocky, arrogant red-haired guy.
He wore a confident smirk, an air of superiority, and a face that practically screamed “soon-to-be punching bag.”
“That’s her,” Rebecca pointed coldly at Samimi.
The red-haired guy strode confidently toward Samimi, sizing up the mysterious nun in black. Even with her eyes covered and veil on, her cold beauty was undeniable.
“Do you need something?” Samimi asked.
“I heard you’re the Church’s top mage,” the red-haired man said, removing his black glove and throwing it at Samimi’s face. “I challenge you.”
Niubao swiftly raised her hand, catching the glove mid-air before it could hit Samimi.
“The Church’s top mage? Me?” Samimi looked genuinely confused.
“During Assessment Day, apprentices are allowed to duel. You can’t refuse. If you don’t want to fight, then leave the Academy. Cowards aren’t welcome here,” he explained.
“And you are?” Samimi asked.
“I’m the vice president of the Flame Faction. You can call me Red Lion,” he introduced proudly.
“What did she promise you?” Samimi asked again.
“If I defeat you, she’ll join my family as a contract priest. Though not a mage, Miss Rebecca is a highly skilled cleric,” Red Lion answered frankly, without a trace of shame.
“!”
Samimi’s expression instantly changed, like a thunderbolt had struck her. She stood upright, her face growing serious.
In that moment, she felt a higher-dimensional, invisible hand rest on her shoulder.
It was the Will of the World, granting her strength and courage.
Because this is a light yuri (girls’ love) fantasy world—a stage of unpredictable destinies for beautiful girls.
Beautiful girls are only meant to stick together!
If that rule is broken, this world loses all meaning and may as well be destroyed.
Samimi wasn’t just a transmigrator—she was the enforcer of the world’s will.
That priest girl could only be bullied, teased, and—handled—by her!
A stinky, fire-breathing pest trying to touch her priestess? War! There must be war!
“I accept. Where shall we duel?” Samimi said calmly, her voice steady as thunder raged in her heart.
Just a moment ago, she had complained about not having a chance to show off. And now it had arrived. In the end, she just couldn’t escape the grand hand of the isekai (otherworld) narrative.
“Eh?” Even Rebecca was stunned.
She hadn’t expected Samimi to actually accept. She only brought someone to show off—to flaunt how well she was doing.
Now seeing Samimi react this strongly, her heart sank.
Could she be into me!? It’s possible! After all, even when I mocked her every day, she always responded gently…
“Such bravery! Of course, my duel must be held on the grand stage—where all can see. Follow me.” Red Lion smiled.
Samimi motioned for Niubao to quickly pack her notes, then followed them out of the classroom.
A large group rushed down the corridor.
Blocked from behind by Flame Faction members, Samimi and Niubao had no choice but to follow Red Lion forward—there was no turning back.
It turned out that what Samimi saw earlier wasn’t even the full force of the Flame Faction—there was a whole lot more.
Leaving the teaching castle, they arrived at the edge of the white brick arena—instantly becoming the center of attention.
“Is that her?!”
Bemore spotted that elegant figure in black immediately. Her pupils trembled in shock.
What is that walking disaster, Samimi, doing at the Continental Magic Academy?!