No one answered, but the infatuated expressions on most faces spoke volumes. However, the training camp included students from noble schools across various regions, not just those who knew Tiffany from Lovell School. These students, free from prejudice, openly praised her.

"Beautiful!" one boy exclaimed.

"She's such a good fighter, and so good-looking! I really want to conquer her!" another boy declared.

"Forget it. I've got my eye on her. Don't even think about it!" These wealthy boys spoke without restraint, unconcerned about being overheard.

Kenneth subconsciously frowned as these words reached his ears. Following the others' gaze, he saw a slender, agile figure. His eyes flickered. Despite his hatred and disgust for Tiffany's vicious nature, he had to admit that compared to the delicate Sandra, the aggressive Tiffany was more alluring. Her invisible charm was utterly captivating.

He tried not to look, but his eyes disobeyed, wandering back to her. Even hearing others express their desire to pursue her left him deeply uncomfortable. He wanted to slap himself for such thoughts.

Tiffany's training concluded at that moment. Their combat instructor, pointing casually, shouted, "Someone spar with her! Let's see your improvement." He wanted someone to test Tiffany's skills. Eager to participate, Tiffany, though a relative novice who had lost many sparring matches against the instructor, was more than a match for these weaker students.

The boys who had just professed their interest in Tiffany scrambled forward, none yielding, fearing they'd miss their chance. The instructor observed; they weren't his students, but students from other instructors. He saw no need for strict distinctions. "One-on-one. Begin."

The boys jostled for position, nearly coming to blows. The middle-aged instructor, understanding their motivations, waved a hand. "What are you fighting for? If you dawdle any longer, get back to your teams!"

The boys decided on an order. The first, a refined and handsome boy with delicate features, smiled at Tiffany. "Don't worry, I won't be too rough."

Tiffany laughed, tilting her head. "Stop dawdling. All of you, come at once." She snapped her fingers. This smile was mesmerizing; the boys were captivated. Tiffany attacked first, holding nothing back in her attempt to push her limits. She kicked one boy, eliciting a cry of, "Whoa! Are you serious? But I can't hit you!"

The four boys hesitated to attack a girl, considering it ungentlemanly. The instructor watched, frowning. Tiffany was one of his most promising students—talented, hardworking, and full of potential. He wanted to push her further. "There's no gender in the sparring ring! If you don't fight back, you'll be defeated!"

Unable to withstand Tiffany's onslaught, the four boys finally joined forces. Tiffany's eyes lit up; her attacks intensified. Initially hesitant, the boys were forced to fight back seriously under increasing pressure.

Ten minutes later, the boys lay on the ground, tears welling in their eyes. They were naive to think they could defeat Tiffany. She won, to the whistles of the onlookers. Drenched in sweat, Tiffany felt a surge of exhilarating joy.

She pulled the boys up. "Sir, I want another opponent."

"Very well," the instructor replied, his usual impassive face betraying a hint of anticipation and satisfaction.

Tiffany turned, her bright eyes scanning the onlookers. With a provocative smile, she pointed. "You." Her lips parted slightly. "Do you dare to compete with me?"

She pointed at Kenneth. Those who knew their relationship erupted in excited murmurs. The complicated nature of their relationship made for a highly anticipated spectacle. Only Lovell School students knew the full story. The other boys, still captivated by Tiffany's appearance, eagerly volunteered. "I I I! I can spar with you! I can even be your punching bag!"

Tiffany ignored them, her cold gaze fixed on Kenneth. "Do you dare?"

"As you wish," Kenneth replied, entering the ring.

The tension was palpable. Many believed Tiffany was seeking her "fiancé's" attention, unaware of her true motive: revenge.

Tiffany attacked without hesitation. Kenneth, a skilled martial artist since childhood, possessed superior technique and strength. The physical disparity between them was significant. Tiffany struggled, sustaining injuries.

Kenneth, initially assuming a practice spar, was surprised by Tiffany's ruthlessness. She fought like a wild animal, reckless of her own safety, prioritizing inflicting damage. Driven by her desire for revenge, she relentlessly pushed him to the edge of the ring, then kicked his knee.

Kenneth nearly buckled. Just as he was about to retaliate, he recalled seeing Sandra, drugged and nearly assaulted, at a recent banquet. His fury had prompted him to have Tiffany's knee kicked—the same knee, the same spot. Kenneth was stunned. Was this revenge?

After the kick, Tiffany walked away, ignoring him. She had vowed to repay everything she had suffered. Given the chance, she would cripple him, skin him alive, and cut him to pieces.

Tiffany's two consecutive victories cemented her reputation, making her famous throughout the camp. Many sought her out. The passage's final sentence was removed because it was a duplicate advertisement.