The Villain in the Novel Lives as the Second Best at the Academy

Arta knew she wasn't welcome in the Magic Department. She didn't even need to distinguish whether it was clear hostility or simple jealousy. What mattered was the fact that she was becoming isolated there.

At first, it was just a small crack. No one openly ignored her, but she was always alone when classes ended. In the Magic Department, students were often divided into groups for practice, and while group formation could be mixed without any issue for the first few times, it gradually became awkward and eventually took the form of avoiding her.

"Ah, sorry. We've already formed our groups."

"We've matched our numbers. Go to another group."

No matter how obvious those excuses were, she didn't ask. And she didn't bother to hold onto them either.

She was originally alone. She had lived alone, endured alone, and was used to accomplishing things alone. So that was nothing.

But the atmosphere changed more and more explicitly.

At first, they just avoided her, but from some point, small pranks directed at her began.

Writing tools placed on her desk would disappear, or their positions would be subtly changed, or sometimes they would even vanish without a trace through magic.

Of course, Arta could quickly notice and deal with such things, but the problem was that it kept happening.

In the Magic Department, note-taking was an essential element, and in many cases, proper practice couldn't be conducted without recording specific spells.

Yet at crucial moments, her bag would disappear.

At first, she thought it was a coincidence, but when it happened once or twice more, it could no longer be considered a coincidence.

And such incidents occurred while she was away from the practice room, or in the moment she briefly looked away.

That wasn't all.

Every time she walked down the corridor, someone deliberately touching her leg became more frequent.

At first, she considered it a coincidence. She thought it could happen.

But with each repetition, she became increasingly certain that it wasn't a coincidence.

Someone passing by deliberately bumping into her shoulder, a small flame grazing the tips of her hair during magic practice, the floor subtly freezing to make her slip slightly.

These were all trivial matters. They didn't leave evidence and weren't openly bullying.

But the malice was clear, and it intensified day by day.

"Be careful. Remember what the professor said about always being cautious when using magic."

Arta didn't say anything even as she saw the face of a classmate who smiled and spoke while melting the ice that had made her slip right in front of her.

Arta didn't think she needed to respond. Their actions were childish too.

But if it really became unbearable, she was thinking of turning things upside down once.

The reason this plan wasn't accelerated was partly due to the chairman's words before enrollment about not causing trouble.

Arta pondered deeply as she was returning to the dormitory.

In the current situation, the most suspicious was, of course, her dormitory mate.

Aureum Hall was a place where only special admission students and top-tier students could reside. Therefore, ordinary students couldn't freely come and go, but those inside could share information among themselves as much as they wanted.

And among them, Escher von Solferion, her roommate and rival, consistently sent contemptuous glances whenever she encountered Arta.

While she couldn't be certain that Escher directly gave orders, there seemed to be a clear reason why some students around her were excessively hostile to Arta.

The malice was too sharp and direct to be simple jealousy.

Nevertheless, now that annoying dormitory was Arta's only sanctuary.

The ones bothering Arta didn't seem to be in the top tier. Except Escher.

And if such incidents had occurred for just one day, she might have considered it a coincidence, but similar incidents repeated for days.

Books placed on the desk would be messed up by someone's prank, or the luggage leaned against the wall would be knocked over with shoe marks imprinted on it when she returned from a brief visit to the bathroom, or a meaningless magic circle would be drawn in front of the door when she woke up in the morning.

"What is this, did you do it?"

When Escher threw such words after seeing the magic circle in front of the outer entrance door in the morning, Arta just quietly erased it.

While thinking about how naturally she acts.

In terms of the magic circle's format, it wasn't something with a significant effect, but it was unpleasant in the sense that it was a trace deliberately left by someone to get on her nerves.

Seeing that even Aureum Hall was being tampered with, she thought, "I guess the dormitory doesn't completely block everything."

However, Arta didn't particularly get involved with anyone at Aureum Hall either. She focused solely on her research and magic, and didn't care about anything else.

But just because she didn't care, it didn't mean they would stop.

A few days later, as she was coming out of the practice room after finishing her exercise, she encountered several students deliberately blocking her way.

Their faces were familiar. Those who glanced at her during every class, those who deliberately bumped into her, and those who tripped her in the corridor.

"You're really annoying."

Those words were tossed out.

"How did you do it? Special admission, they say. What did you do with the chairman?"

Arta just quietly looked at them.

In their eyes lay anxiety, jealousy, and a vague fear. It wasn't simple contempt. They couldn't understand Arta, and therefore wanted to ostracize her more.

She took a short breath and stepped forward.

"Move."

Just one word. But that word brought a stronger reaction than expected.

"What?"

The student blocking the way frowned as if displeased. But Arta didn't care.

One more step, and then another step. She brushed past their shoulders as she passed.

The moment she passed between them, someone manipulated mana. Arta detected it immediately, but it was already too late to react.

The stone floor beneath her feet vibrated slightly, then cracks formed instantly. She maintained her balance lightly on the shaking floor using wind magic, not falling.

Arta looked down at the broken floor once, then twisted her hand to briefly cast an illusion on everyone around.

From that moment, no one spoke to her anymore.

But Arta knew. This wasn't the end of the matter; it was just the beginning.

Arta slowly closed the door and touched her forehead. There was a presence coming along the dormitory corridor, but she didn't care.

The moment she returned to her room, she saw that the textbook that had been placed on the desk had fallen to the floor. There were clear signs of pages being crumpled, and the magic notes inserted between the books had also disappeared.

That wasn't all. Several things she valued—scrolls filled with notes taken during class, formulas she had drawn herself for magical power calculations, even simple practice tools—had vanished without a trace.

This was no longer a coincidence.

Arta quietly clenched and unclenched her hand.

The subtle hostilities directed at her while walking down the corridor, the magical interferences in the practice room, and now someone's traces tampering with her room.

Not many people could do this. Those who could freely access Aureum Hall, and those who had a reason to bother her.

And the first name Arta thought of was just one.

Escher von Solferion. Her roommate and someone who had been irritating each other since their first meeting. From the beginning, she had openly ignored her and shown an attitude as if questioning why they had to share the same space.

If that's the case, why did you come to the dormitory?

Arta took a deep breath. She tried to maintain her composure, but this time she couldn't tolerate it.

Damaging books might have been just a prank. But stealing her magic notes was crossing the line. It wasn't just a simple notebook, but a precious record containing all her research since the slums.

Strength entered her hand. She immediately opened the door and went outside.

And as expected, she encountered Escher returning to the room at the end of the corridor.

Arta didn't hesitate.

"Did you do it?"

The moment those words popped out, the air enveloping the corridor subtly changed.

Escher stopped walking. Her black hair swayed softly. Sharp green eyes turned towards Arta.

"What?"

Her voice was high and sharp. As if this situation was something unexpected.

But Arta had no intention of tolerating it any longer.

"Books, notes, practice tools. All gone."

Arta took one more step forward. Escher slightly frowned.

"...From this room?"

"It was you."

Arta had no intention of beating around the bush anymore. The anger that had been building up inside made her voice and clenched fist tremble involuntarily.

Escher wasn't a student of the Magic Department. But she was of imperial lineage and the top student in the Combat Department. With such status, she could naturally exert influence within the Magic Department as well.

And from the first day Arta entered Aureum Hall, she had not hidden her antipathy.

So even if she hadn't directly taken action, it was entirely possible that she had instigated someone.

However, upon hearing her words, Escher exhaled a short sigh.

"This is really annoying."

Arta instinctively let out a sarcastic laugh. More than the words themselves, the attitude with which they were uttered made her angrier.

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject."

Escher looked down at her with a disinterested expression. The height difference between the two was still evident. Arta's neck hurt, but she didn't avert her gaze.

"I'm saying I don't know what you're talking about."

Her tone was resolute. And that was unexpected.

Arta examined the other's expression. She didn't avert her eyes and didn't add unnecessary excuses. It wasn't a simple denial. It meant it wasn't a lie.

But that couldn't be.

"...It was you."

For a moment, very briefly. Arta's voice wavered.

Escher folded her arms and slowly inhaled. It was as if she didn't even want to care about this matter.

But suddenly, the air changed.

"So, what if it was me?"

Escher's voice flowed out lightly, but there was something solid hidden within it. Whether it was mockery, dismissal, or mere curiosity, Arta couldn't be sure.

Her body instantly stiffened. The moment she heard those words, she felt an unpleasant sensation as if her heart was being squeezed.

Not the person, not the situation, but the attitude itself was unbearably irritating.

"What?"

Arta found herself asking before she knew it. Escher shrugged and casually retorted.

"What if it really was me?"

Before those words ended, something boiled hotly inside Arta. She knew she was questioning based on suspicion without certainty.

But she had been enduring the continuous harassment from before, the missing notes, the damaged belongings, and the passive but cunningly connected malice.

In the midst of all that, Escher just calmly, nonchalantly, threw words like that.

Arta took a short breath.

"If it really was you, I'll smack you once, princess or not."

She spoke in a low, firm voice. Escher's eyebrows moved microscopically. But she still let out a light laugh.

"Ah, trying to hurt a princess? How dare you?"

"You...."

Arta slowly took a step closer. The height difference between the two was clear. Escher was at least a head taller than Arta, and with her upright posture added, the difference became even more stark.

Arta instinctively tilted her neck upward. To not avoid Escher's gaze.

And even that irritated her. From the beginning, it was unpleasant that she had to look up from below in this position.

Like an annoying telephone pole.

"So?"

Escher said with a smile.

"Want to throw a punch at this point?"

Arta put strength into her fingertips. But she couldn't. She had no reason to initiate a fight. There was no evidence. No certainty.

But that attitude—

"You,"

Arta said slowly.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

Escher looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

Arta exhaled low. By this point, she knew Escher wasn't the culprit. She now knew she was acting to provoke her anger.

And that made her angrier.

"Don't play your dirty tricks."

But Escher wasn't moved at all. Instead, she wore an expression as if even more intrigued.

"I know perfectly well. Your kind."

Arta's voice had sunk coldly.

At that moment, Escher's expression froze chillingly. Still coupled with a cold smile.

"My kind? Do you mean the kind like me, beautiful and excellent?"

She laughed low.

"Interesting. Then shall we see how 'my kind,' as you call it, performs?"

She turned her body and walked. However, it was clear that this wasn't an evasion, as her gaze was immediately directed towards the dueling ground.

Arta didn't miss her movement. She followed right behind.

"Follow me to the dueling grounds."

Arta bit her lip tightly. She didn't like fighting. She wasn't in the Combat Department and had no intention of using magic as a weapon.

But in this situation.

"Fine."

Arta answered briefly.

The two walked side by side. But those steps were by no means harmonious.

Escher moved with large, relaxed, yet resolute steps. In contrast, Arta followed with small, quick, yet sharper energy.

Along the path the two walked, gazes from around gathered one by one. But no one dared to intervene between them.

This was a fight. Just not yet begun.

_

To briefly understand their height difference:

Arta: 152cm

Escher: 174cm

There's a reason she calls her a telephone pole.