Adele was unaware of the brewing conflict between Hermione and Dorothy. She simply had a feeling, a gut instinct, that Dorothy’s “surprise” involved Hermione.

It would explain Hermione’s unexpected visit on Friday night, her uncharacteristic behavior. Something major must have happened, or was about to happen, to make Hermione act so out of character.

And her abrupt departure the next morning… it all pointed to a single conclusion.

Hermione, the Ice Queen, and Dorothy, the Vampire Princess, were about to clash.

But to confirm her suspicions, Adele needed to go to the training ground.

She abandoned her messy desk, her textbooks left open, and hurried out of the classroom, her pink eyes filled with anxiety.

Even in her haste, she was a vision of grace, her slender legs carrying her swiftly down the hallway, her blue skirt swirling around her.

Tang Linlang followed Adele to the door, her hand reaching out as if to stop her, to ask what was wrong, to offer her assistance…

But she hesitated, perhaps sensing the urgency in Adele’s movements, and let her go, her hand falling to her side.

She wished Adele would run towards her with the same fervor…

………………

The primary function of Chromwell Academy was to *filter*.

Like a sieve, it separated the strong from the weak, the loyal from the rebellious, guiding each student towards their rightful place within the vampire hierarchy.

It was the unspoken purpose of most vampire academies.

And the ranking battles were a particularly effective method of identifying the most promising individuals. They were held regularly for second and third-year students, while the first-years observed from the sidelines.

The fourth-years, having already matured and chosen their paths, were exempt from this brutal assessment.

It was a chance to prove oneself, to earn recognition, to secure valuable resources. Some students relished the opportunity, eager to make a name for themselves, to defy expectations, to overcome the limitations of their bloodlines and conquer those of higher rank.

There had been instances where lower-ranking vampires had triumphed over their superiors, shocking the audience and earning the admiration of their peers.

The academy seemed to encourage such upsets. It was a very human concept, after all: anyone could rise to the top, regardless of their origins. Unlike the vampires, who clung to their rigid bloodline hierarchy.

But more often than not, the ranking battles simply reinforced the existing power structure, the higher-ranking vampires crushing their inferiors without mercy.

At the training ground, the Student Council and the Black Feather Society maintained a clear division, each organization responsible for overseeing their designated areas. But at the boundary between their territories, the animosity between the two factions was palpable.

On one side, the Student Council, representing the humans. On the other, the Black Feather Society, representing the vampires.

It was a rivalry that had plagued the academy for years, a headache for the administration. But if harnessed correctly, it could also be a powerful motivator, pushing both organizations to excel.

Today, unfortunately, the Student Council president was absent. As a third-year student, she was more interested in missions than in petty squabbles for rank. She was a woman of action, a no-nonsense leader who inspired her followers with her unwavering determination.

Under her influence, the Student Council had developed a reputation for efficiency and ruthlessness.

The Black Feather Society, led by the enigmatic Lady Edith, was known for its cunning and brutality.

At this moment, Lady Edith sat perched on a raised platform, her gaze cold and calculating as she surveyed the “ants” below. It was teatime, and a selection of delicate pastries and a steaming cup of Darjeeling tea were arranged before her on a silver tray.

Lady Edith was known as the “Black Veil Lady” due to the black veil she wore constantly, covering the lower half of her face, leaving only her piercing purple eyes visible.

Some whispered that her beauty rivaled that of Hermione and Dorothy, while others claimed she was a hideous monster, her face disfigured beyond recognition.

But Lady Edith didn’t care about rumors. She let people talk. Just as she would let them bleed if they dared to speak ill of her behind her back.

Freedom of speech had its limits.

Today, however, Lady Edith’s mood was unusually bright. The woman she loathed, the one who had humiliated her, was nowhere to be seen.

And she had heard a particularly interesting rumor.

Dorothy and Hermione, once friends, were now enemies.

Could anything be more entertaining?

Lady Edith had canceled all her other engagements to witness this spectacle.

Besides, regardless of who won, it would weaken one of the academy’s major factions.

Currently, there were three main power blocs within the academy. The Student Council, led by Li Tumi, comprised mostly of human elites, with a few token vampires.

Then there was the Black Feather Society, Lady Edith’s domain.

And finally… well, it wasn’t exactly an organization, more like a loose alliance of Sequence Ones led by Dorothy. Hermione, the Amaterasu twins, the one who had dropped out… and, oh yes, Sharon.

Lady Edith often forgot about Sharon. The girl was so weak, so insignificant. She would obey anyone who gave her an order, even fetching water for the Sequence Threes. It was a waste of her noble bloodline, really.

Sharon was already seated in the audience, far from the action. Lady Edith spotted her, and Sharon, as if sensing her gaze, immediately lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the floor.

She was dressed in a simple white shirt and pants, her pale skin almost translucent, her slender frame looking fragile and easily breakable. Her messy silver-grey hair obscured her eyes, making her look like a frightened creature, peeking out from behind a curtain of silver.

Lady Edith’s lips curved into a smile, hidden behind her black veil.

But her attention was quickly drawn to a more captivating figure.

Dorothy, the Vampire Princess, resplendent in a crimson and black gothic gown, a black lace choker adorning her slender neck.

She held a bouquet of blue roses, their fragrance intoxicating, her boots clicking against the floor with each graceful step, a rhythm that echoed in the hearts of those around her, quickening their pulse.

She seemed annoyed by her early arrival, her pink lips pouting slightly. But no one would dare to call the princess “cute”, even though it was the most fitting description.

Lady Edith despised humans, which was why she had made the Black Feather Society exclusive to vampires. But her feelings towards Dorothy were more complex.

Dorothy’s royal status meant that she would never bow to anyone. Lady Edith, despite her desire to recruit talented individuals, would never be able to sway Dorothy to join her organization. It would be a pointless endeavor, a surefire way to undermine her own authority.

Dorothy was a force of nature, a power Lady Edith could never control.

Some even claimed that Dorothy, even alone, was a force to be reckoned with, a third faction within the academy.

Hermione, the twins… they were merely ornaments, enhancing Dorothy’s already formidable power.

Many believed that Hermione, with her mastery of elemental magic, would prevail in this conflict.

But Lady Edith had a different opinion. She was certain that Dorothy would win, or at the very least, wouldn’t lose.

She set down her teacup, her lips curving into a smile. She descended the platform, her movements graceful and fluid, and approached Dorothy, bowing respectfully.

Dorothy extended her hand, her expression impassive.

Lady Edith took it, her touch reverent, and pressed a kiss to Dorothy’s pinky finger, a gesture of fealty.

The vampire kiss of fealty. The location of the kiss carried specific meaning. A kiss on the ring finger, for example, symbolized a romantic relationship.

Rumor had it that the human tradition of wearing wedding rings on the ring finger originated from this ancient vampire custom.

“Congratulations on your victory,” Lady Edith said, her voice laced with amusement.

Dorothy, however, ignored her. Her gaze was fixed on the entrance to the training ground.

A girl stood there, panting slightly, her cheeks flushed, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead.

Adele.

She had arrived just in time.

And she had witnessed the exchange between Lady Edith and Dorothy, her eyes widening in surprise.