Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

In the afternoon, Hestia sat in a corner of the hall, flipping through a book, learning topics that weren’t taught in class. She already had many ideas about her next steps for advancement.

She was determined to choose a path with some combat capabilities—her past experiences had taught her the hard way.

Additionally, she wanted a transcendent pathway with a higher evaluation.

Unfortunately, among the extraordinary pathways publicly disclosed by the Federation, only one barely fit her preferences: Decay Sequence 3: Phantom Blade Swordsman (Excellent Level).

Most pathways in the Decay Sequence were related to medicine and research. Combat-related pathways were primarily found in the military and were not publicly accessible—unless Hestia enrolled in a military academy.

Joining the military was something she had never considered. Hestia disliked the strict environment of the armed forces. She was a bit of a free spirit, preferring a more laid-back lifestyle. If life hadn’t pushed her forward, she might have chosen to live quietly in the countryside—quite the opposite of her ambitious sister.

…

Ding-ding-ding—

“Time to help Botis-sis,” Hestia said as she stood up.

A few minutes later, she followed Botis out of the Apex Tower and boarded a hover car heading to a large open square.

“This is… the city’s largest bathhouse, isn’t it? Are we really holding a concert here?”

Hestia asked in surprise as she stepped out of the car.

“Exactly. While there are theaters in the city, they’re too old and small. Renting the spacious square in front of the bathhouse makes more sense, especially since the bathhouse is under renovation and not operating right now.”

“Well, that’s certainly unexpected.”

“Don’t worry. The surprises are just starting, Hestia,” Botis said, wagging her finger.

“Follow me.”

Soon, Hestia understood why Botis had said that. The massive crowd before her showed her the true meaning of enthusiasm.

“Tickets are 1,200 Federation Credits. Please pay.”

“That’s so expensive for a concert.”

“Tsk, stop complaining! There’s a line of people waiting behind you.”

“I didn’t expect such a big crowd for a last-minute concert announcement.”

“Who are you even talking about? Which big star?”

“Uh, you came to line up without knowing?”

“Of course! With so many people here, there’s bound to be something good.”

“Well, it’s none other than the legendary singer Princoco!”

…

Southern 1st District: Beehive Academy.

This school, bearing a queen bee as its emblem, was ranked second among the elite institutions of the Verdant Veil Constellation, just behind the top-ranked Saint Ingo Academy. Unlike Saint Ingo, which admitted both boys and girls, Beehive Academy was an all-girls school in the truest sense.

As the dismissal bell rang, elegantly dressed ladies exited their classrooms and strolled along the academy’s picturesque tree-lined paths, chatting and laughing with one another.

Amidst this scene, a girl on roller skates zipped past, creating a breeze as she sped along. Three others followed behind her, similarly dressed, riding skateboards and wearing backpacks.

“Wait up, Princoco!”

“Hurry up! I promised to meet Senior on time for the performance.”

“But if you leave us behind, there’s no way to hold a concert alone!”

“That’s why I said—hurry up!”

The other students watched the group whizz past without much reaction. At such a disciplined school, only a few students could enjoy such carefree freedom.

“Princoco is at it again.”

“Well, what can you do? She’s a songstress, and everyone adores her.”

“If she weren’t so busy, I’d ask her for an autograph. My sisters are huge fans.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” a student suddenly exclaimed.

…

Outside the academy, in a quaint café, a familiar figure waited anxiously.

“Why hasn’t Senior come out yet? I’m still waiting for her to get me Princoco’s autograph. I rarely visit the Southern District, and this was my only chance,” Clara complained, slumped over the table with several empty drink cups before her.

Though her dream was to become an idol herself, it didn’t stop her from being a fan. Right now, her target was the rising songstress Princoco, a new star of the Verdant Veil Constellation.

Despite currently being classified as a Starlight-Grade Songstress, professional analysts in the Federation believed she had significant potential for growth. Her promising future had already garnered the attention and support of the sector’s government.

…

“Let’s get started,” Princoco said.

Outside the academy, she and her companions boarded a shuttle, which shot skyward moments later. Above them, a massive gray shadow loomed, heading north.

…

Three hours later.

Countless raindrops lashed against the iron-gray surface of an airtight flight armor as it sped through corrosive acid rain.

With wings spanning hundreds of meters, a heavily built fuselage, and engines roaring like a beast defying nature’s fury, the vehicle soared through the gloomy, rainy skies.

In the pitch-black sky outside Arpeggio City, a tiny star rapidly grew in size. The piercing sound that followed shattered the tranquility of the night.

Hovercars on the ground came to a halt at the notification from their internal systems, waiting silently in place. Countless passengers gazed at the night sky, anticipating the passage of the roaring gray behemoth overhead.

Normally bustling, the sky ceiling of Arpeggio City was eerily quiet. The crimson steel walls of the enormous structure opened layer by layer. Restraints and barriers were lifted, green indicator lights flickered on along the interior walls, and displays lit up with messages: [Passage Allowed].

The “gray behemoth” in the sky dove downward, stirring powerful gusts and rain as it descended. A massive cylindrical container was slowly lowered into the city’s open-air shaft.

Through the storm, the cabin door of the cylinder opened, and a figure leaped into the dark, rainy night.

“Princoco!” A companion called out from behind but could only follow by jumping after her.

The girl, her caramel-colored hair flowing, wore a flame-like jacket, sneakers, and held a guitar in one hand while gripping the rail of the cylindrical container with the other. Standing atop the container as rain battered down, she raced toward the pitch-black depths of Arpeggio City.

The wind whipped her clothes, the rain drenched her face, and her laughter echoed through the storm. Her twin tails danced wildly, reflecting her untamed and carefree spirit. Her passion seemed so intense it might ignite the rain itself.

The massive cylinder, with four companions aboard, traversed a lengthy underground tunnel. Four white Courier-class fighter jets escorted it, their engines roaring as they accompanied the descent through the 7-kilometer passage.

Finally, the darkness gave way to brilliant light, revealing the sprawling cityscape of Arpeggio City.

The front of the cylinder began releasing streams of hot air to decelerate, the pressure shaping the exhaust into a hemispherical wave. The heat dried the girl’s damp hair, sending it billowing behind her.

As the cylinder came to a halt, it tilted and embedded itself in the bathhouse square of the city. In an instant, countless beams of light illuminated the square, converging on the four figures atop the cylinder.

“Woah—!”

A thunderous roar of cheers erupted, reverberating through the upper layers of the city.

“Princoco!”

“Princoco!”

“Princoco!”

Hestia stood amidst the surging crowd, gazing at the small figure atop the giant cylinder. She burned brightly, like a flame—fierce and untamed.

The rhythmic strum of a guitar began to echo, silencing the entire venue.

Accompanied by the guitar, a bass drum sounded, signaling the start of a song that surged upward with an infectious energy and fervor.

“I can’t sleep, for a fire burns in my heart.”
“Like a blaze, the flames rage and roar.”
“No longer afraid, I push forward.”
“Though it feels surreal, I love it nonetheless.”
“Faster and faster I go.”
“Faster and faster.”

The melody cycled and repeated, each iteration deepening the emotion until it erupted into a raw, almost primal cry that left the audience dazed and awestruck.

“I can’t live in a fairytale of lies—”

After a brief pause, the song continued, the pounding drums and guitar driving it forward.

“I feel you captivating my heart.”
“I can’t escape this feeling that’s right.”
…

The music swelled as the bass and guitar played in harmony. Drums punctuated the rhythm, and her voice ignited the storm, sending white waves of heat rippling outward.

“To survive, I go faster and faster.”
“Faster and faster.”
“I won’t give up because I’m proud of my scars.”
“I know I’ve wasted too much time.”
…

The crowd waved their glowing sticks in unison, a fiery ocean of red. Hestia felt like a small boat, rising and falling amidst the waves of flame.

“I can’t live in a fairytale of lies.”
“I feel you captivating my heart.”
“I can’t escape this feeling that’s right.”
“I can’t live in a fairytale of lies.”
“A fairytale of lies…”

Is this the power of a songstress? Hestia slowly pressed her hand to her chest. A searing emotion swirled within her, desperate to burst free.

Throughout her life, countless people had imparted various truths to her—about life, society, survival. She had tried to understand the complexities of this dazzling yet unsettling world.

But with each new revelation, another mountain loomed before her. The rules and norms of the world seemed endless, as people pursued their own paths, dragging her deeper into the mire.

Gradually, her heart became bound by countless invisible chains—chains of obligation, societal expectations, conformity, and unspoken rules.

Her frustration felt like a storm cloud trapped in a box, churning endlessly with no outlet.

Life shouldn’t be like this; it should be vivid and vibrant.

Like a flame igniting, burning away every chain.

Like a clear wind sweeping over the hills, colorful leaves rustling joyfully under the sun.