Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

After finishing the morning classes, Hestia and Mel went to the treehouse dining area in the forest for lunch.

Inside the spacious tree-hollow cafeteria, a row of birds perched on the high canopy above, while stair-like steps connected the inner walls of the tree to various rooms.

At the bottom level, the expansive dining area housed dozens of large tables, accommodating up to 500 people. Students lined up to get their meals before sitting at the tables to eat.

“Today, we have translucent osmanthus jelly, plus complimentary apples,” Mel said softly and cheerfully.

Although she wasn’t lacking in money, she was delighted with the complimentary T5-grade crimson apple. While it had no magical effects, its sweet, crisp flavor made it an excellent treat.

“This is for you~” After sitting down, Mel gleefully handed a piece of amber-clear jelly to Hestia.

The T4-grade golden osmanthus jelly was made from exceptional ingredients like golden honey, autumn triple-leaf osmanthus, and dawn flour. It offered mild magical effects, such as soothing the body and restoring some energy.

How generous, Hestia thought. Although she’d enjoyed many T4-grade delicacies at Edess Academy, things were different at Swallow Garden Academy.

At Edess, many such treats were freely provided, and Hestia had no qualms about accepting them, given the academy’s generosity. But at Swallow Garden, such things required personal funds, and her limited budget made her more frugal.

“Thank you.”

Knowing Mel might cry if she refused, Hestia accepted. Mel, pleased, stroked the gray moon cat in her arms.

The two chatted about recent classes as they ate.

“Overall, I think I can keep up with the coursework. I won’t hold you back, Hestia,” Mel said determinedly.

“It’s fine. Don’t push yourself too hard,” Hestia reassured her. She wasn’t the type to distance herself from others over academic performance.

“No, I must try. My grandmother said one should know their limits and not take advantage of others’ kindness lightly,” Mel insisted, displaying an unusual firmness.

“In the afternoon, the teacher said we’d each receive duck eggs and incubators to hatch ducklings. Over the next few months, we’ll raise them,” Mel said, referring to the assignment.

This was likely the bird-rearing task mentioned in their curriculum. At first, Hestia wondered if it might involve magical creatures, but she realized that as new students, they wouldn’t be given such a challenging assignment. Ordinary ducks seemed more appropriate.

An hour later, the two arrived at the bird-rearing house in the forest, bustling with senior students and staff.

Walking through the tall structure, they occasionally spotted birds flying overhead.

“Look, that’s a Snow-White Triplume!”

Mel pointed to a bird gliding above. It was entirely white with three long tail feathers. As a Sequence 3 magical bird, it was a prized pet, with premium specimens fetching over 100,000 Federation credits.

Swallow Garden Academy derived most of its income not from tuition but from other ventures, such as renting magical animals, pet training, medical services, and producing rare resources.

Many staff members were former students of the academy. This self-sustaining system ensured steady finances, though not on the level of elite institutions like Edess Academy.

“That’s a Shadow-Claw Owl. It’s nocturnal and often kept in graveyards to guard against ghosts.”

“That’s a Scarlet Screecher Falcon. Its cry is piercing, and it’s quite aggressive. Its sharp claws and tough feathers make it a formidable combat creature.”

“The one with the big beak is a Spotted Pelican. They’re lazy and gluttonous, sometimes overeating to the point of harm if not trained properly.”

Mel seemed knowledgeable about magical animals, introducing each one to Hestia.

Swallow Garden excelled in raising various magical creatures, particularly birds. It was said that centuries ago, during the academy’s prime, it housed a Sequence 8 Heavenly Wind Swallow, from which the academy took its name.

“Puppies are cute too, but they’re less endearing when they grow up,” Mel said, petting a small yellow dog begging for food at her feet. She picked it up and stroked its round belly.

“This little guy’s eaten well,” she remarked.

Hestia chuckled, joining her to pat the puppy before they continued to a quieter room where several classmates were selecting duck eggs.

“These are genetically enhanced Call Ducks. Each of you will select three eggs to incubate. By the end of the year, raising a qualified Call Duck will earn you 80 points for this subject. Exceptional performance may bring bonuses and rewards,” the teacher explained.

“That sounds manageable. Call Ducks are those white ones with flat bills, right?”

“Yes. They’re beginner-level pets popular in the market. If you raise them well, the academy might even give you a share of the profits, letting you experience a breeder’s income firsthand,” the teacher added.

“That sounds exciting!” Several students were eager.

Mel, holding her gray moon cat, gently touched and inspected the eggs before carefully selecting three.

Hestia, on the other hand, used her vocational abilities to examine the eggs. Most were fertilized, but at this stage, there wasn’t much difference between them.

Finally, both selected three eggs each, placed them in prepared incubators, and carried them back to their dorms.

The incubators, once plugged in, would steadily heat the eggs to the optimal temperature for hatching. Initially, they could be kept on the dorm balcony. The teacher would guide them through each stage of raising the ducklings in upcoming classes.

Back in her dorm, Hestia set up the incubator, plugged it in, and then settled at the living room table to study. Most theoretical lessons could be self-taught, and the academy had scheduled her mainly for hands-on courses. This self-study approach saved her considerable time.

That evening, after her bath, Hestia noticed a faint light in the living room.

Approaching, she saw the Indigo Serpent had opened the incubator and coiled itself protectively around the three eggs, emitting a gentle warmth.

“Are you trying to hatch them? They’re duck eggs, not serpent eggs, silly,” she said, tapping the serpent’s head as she tried to retrieve the eggs.

However, the Indigo Serpent coiled tightly around her hand, reluctant to let go.

After several attempts, it was clear the little serpent was determined to incubate the eggs itself.

“Fine, you can try, but make sure the temperature stays suitable. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to find three roasted duck eggs,” she warned, tapping its head again before reluctantly heading to bed.

Since the serpent’s body temperature seemed appropriate, she decided to let it have its way for now. After all, she wasn’t overly strict by nature.