Saint Diya Poetry Academy, third year, in a classroom lavishly decorated, resembling a small conference room.
Princess Rufus lounged leisurely in the seat of honor, his slender fingers tapping absentmindedly on the smooth tabletop as he listened to his subordinate’s respectful report.
“Princess Rufus, the situation with Ceres is exactly as you predicted. She looks like she’s on the verge of collapse—completely distraught, hiding in the classroom and crying nonstop. She keeps insisting she’s not a witch, like… well, like she’s suffering from Yuyu Syndrome, fragile and broken.”
His subordinate spoke cautiously.
A smile of complete control gradually spread across Rufus’s face, and he nodded gracefully.
As expected, it was still his sister’s method that worked.
To deal with a woman who seemed so aloof and proud, all it took was skillful Rumor Control to drive her into a corner.
Then, all her pride and façade would shatter, leaving her utterly vulnerable.
At that moment, all that was needed was to appear like a Hero—help her, “rescue” her from danger—and it would be effortless to seize the opportunity to win her heart.
“However… that new transfer student, Eiden, seems to remain steadfastly by Ceres’s side. This morning, he even greeted her publicly, unlike the others who’ve distanced themselves.”
His subordinate hesitated, then added another sentence.
“A transfer student? Just a meaningless little clown.”
Upon hearing this, Princess Rufus snorted disdainfully, a mocking curve tugging at the corner of his mouth.
That meticulously edited video was created using the unique magic of a high-ranking illusion mage employed by his family.
Anyone who saw the video would be magically compelled to alter their perception, unwaveringly believing that the Ceres in the footage was a potential dark witch.
Meanwhile, he firmly held the Original Video—unmodified and untainted.
When the time came, all he had to do was pick a scapegoat, reveal the “real” video to “clear” her name, and play the role of the Hero who washes away her injustice and saves her from peril.
Could a transfer student pull off something like that?
Their main tactic was just “accompanying” her?
What good is companionship?
It’s the most worthless thing there is.
Rufus’s heart swelled with superiority.
He had done many similar “love-stealing” acts before; once those women saw his money, status, and handsome face, none failed to throw themselves at him.
Their previous suitors or boyfriends were nothing but useless—offering only pale, powerless companionship—and ultimately helplessly watching their partners get taken away.
In his eyes, companionship?
It was utterly fragile when faced with absolute power and methods.
“Princess Rufus! Ceres… Ceres has a letter for you!”
At that moment, one of his underlings rushed over hastily, his face eager for credit, and respectfully handed over a neatly folded letter.
“Oh?”
Rufus raised an elegant eyebrow at the news, a look of “just as expected” appearing on his face.
He calculated the timing—it was about time for the prey to take the bait.
Hmph, still relying on him at a moment like this?
After all, among everyone present and within the whole Saint Diya Poetry Academy, who else had enough influence to “handle” this but him?
That woman Ceres was actually more sensible than expected, knowing who to turn to for help.
That transfer student Eiden?
Hmph, just a useless guy who didn’t even use magic properly—what else could he do but watch helplessly?
Rufus took the letter deliberately and unfolded it.
His gaze scanned the delicate yet slightly messy handwriting, and a sly, proud curve lifted his lips.
As he expected, the letter was full of despair and pleading—Ceres said she couldn’t take it anymore, was about to break down, begged Princess Rufus to help her, wanted to talk, and arranged to meet him in the old classroom.
Rufus’s followers looked on with expectant, sycophantic expressions, waiting for his response.
“Hmph, it’s all but done. See? Ceres is already mine.”
Rufus laughed confidently, waving the letter in the air, his voice brimming with certainty.
“Congratulations, Princess Rufus.”
The followers echoed their congratulations in unison, celebrating his early success.
“This time, you all worked hard as well. The usual—once I’m done having fun, I’ll throw her over to you guys in line!”
Rufus, like a king surveying his loyal subjects eagerly awaiting reward, waved his hand and made the usual promise.
“Swear to follow Lord Rufus to the death!”
His followers immediately erupted in knowing cheers and lewd laughter, pledging their loyalty.
Rufus laughed triumphantly, as if victory was already securely in hand.
He stuffed the letter into his pocket, adjusted his collar, and swaggered out, heading toward the old classroom mentioned in Ceres’s letter.
Arriving at the slightly secluded old classroom, Rufus composed his expression and pushed open the door.
In the dim room, Ceres was indeed standing alone by the window.
Hearing the door open, she turned around in fright, her face still streaked with wet tears.
“Ceres! Are you alright? I saw those rumors spreading around the academy… I really didn’t expect that video to cause you so much pain and harm.”
Rufus immediately put on a concerned, sympathetic expression and stepped forward, his voice gentle enough to drip with warmth.
“But don’t worry, I’ve found the culprit. If you want, I can hold a press conference to clear your name!”
“I… I really am not a witch… Senior Rufus… you have to believe me…”
Ceres’s eyes were swollen red, clearly from long crying.
She looked at Rufus pitifully, her voice choked with helpless sobs and trembling.
“Of course I believe you! Ceres, even if the whole world suspects you and thinks you’re a witch, I will stand firmly by your side without hesitation and believe you!”
Rufus took a step closer, hand over his chest, his tone resolute and sincere as he gazed deeply into Ceres’s eyes.
“But… but I have no memory of what I looked like then… in the video, with the black mist and lightning around me… it really looked like I was a witch… what… what should I do? I don’t want to become a witch…”
Ceres seemed touched by Rufus’s trust, but then remembered the video’s content and broke down again in fearful tears.
“Ceres, look at me! You’re not a witch! That video’s content is completely different from what I saw with my own eyes!”
Rufus’s heart secretly rejoiced but outwardly grew even more righteous, his tone firm and certain.
“That video was obviously tampered with by a mage using magic! It was deliberately fabricated to slander you! I can immediately appear before all the teachers and students and testify for you!”
“Tampered…?”
Ceres clung to the lifeline but still looked a little confused, blinking in surprise.
“That’s right, it was altered by extremely advanced illusion magic! It’s not what really happened! You were only weak from magic exhaustion, no corruption at all. The strange black mist and lightning were all post-production effects!”
Seeing the fish bite, Rufus began to explain patiently.
“Senior Rufus… how… how do you know so much about video tampering methods?”
Ceres raised her head, tear-blurred eyes filled with doubt.
“Because I already found out who that despicable bastard was! That guy confessed everything! To dare frame you like that, I’ve made him pay the price! Haven’t had a chance to tell you yet.”
Rufus’s expression darkened, feigning righteous indignation, even clenching his fists as if genuinely worked up and outraged.
Ceres said nothing, lowering her head.
Her ice-blue hair fell down, hiding her current expression.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s all in the past now. I’m here…”
Rufus gazed at the beautiful girl’s tear-streaked, pitiful face, his wicked thoughts intensifying.
He reached out to wrap his arm around her shoulder, soothing her with a voice he thought tender and considerate.
But halfway through, his hand froze in midair.
Because Rufus suddenly realized that Ceres, still bowed, did not lean toward him.
Instead, a deep, clear, distinctly male cold laugh broke out.
“Oh? Is that so? So this is how it is.”
That completely contradictory voice made Rufus stiffen all over.
He vaguely sensed something was wrong.
The “Ceres” before him slowly lifted her head.
Gone were the tears and vulnerability, replaced by a mocking smile.
A low chuckle escaped, as if removing a mask, and the figure began to ripple and distort like water, quickly transforming into a young boy with short black hair and delicate features.
If not Eiden, then who else?
“So it turns out—all this turmoil—is caused by Senior Rufus ‘failing to control his subordinates.’ Senior, you’re truly ‘skilled in managing your men.’”
Eiden smiled at Rufus, whose face suddenly turned pale, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Rufus, seeing Eiden reveal his true form, immediately understood.
That damned transfer student had used some bizarre magic to impersonate Ceres and trap him in conversation!
“You persistent bastard! I didn’t want to hit you hard, but you forced my hand—don’t push me!”
His forehead veins bulged with rage as he pointed at Eiden and shouted hysterically.
“Wow! I’m so scared~ Senior Rufus! Not only did you condone your subordinates’ slander and push Ceres to the brink, but now that it’s exposed, you threaten people too… Tsk tsk, you really live up to your reputation as the ‘respectful and kind senior’~”
“I told people to do it! So what? I don’t care! What can you do now that you know? Hmph, that woman Ceres will eventually be my plaything! And you? Just a pitiful loser!”
Rufus was so furious at Eiden’s sarcastic tone he almost spat blood.
With the matter already exposed, he stopped pretending and haughtily admitted.
“Is that so? Really don’t care?”
Eiden shrugged nonchalantly and, like a magic trick, pulled out a device resembling a Transmission Stone from a nearby desk drawer, emitting a faint magical aura, waving it before Rufus’s eyes.
“What if our little ‘heart-to-heart’ conversation just now is now being broadcast word for word, live, over the entire Saint Diya Poetry Academy?”
Then Eiden snapped his fingers sharply.
In an instant, the soundproofing magic surrounding the old classroom vanished.
As if confirming, he deliberately spoke twice into the Transmission Stone.
“Ceres, are you listening? This guy just confessed everything himself.”
Almost simultaneously, the clear voice echoed throughout the vast academy grounds.
“You… Tch…”
Rufus’s pupils shrank sharply, his face instantly pale, his body trembling slightly.
He pointed at Eiden, lips trembling, unable to utter a word, as if an invisible hand had strangled his throat.
Eiden glanced at Rufus with interest, then lowered his head and asked casually into the Transmission Stone.
“Ceres, how do you like this ‘live broadcast’ prepared just for you?”
Meanwhile, in a first-year classroom somewhere in the academy, Ceres, who was pretending to lie face down on her desk, clearly heard the voice reverberating across the entire academy.
A slow, uncontrollable smile crept up the girl’s lips, a look of relief and satisfaction on her face, tinged with a trace of sweetness.
“Impressive… Eiden…”