Wang Yue hadn’t been enjoying her relaxation for long when the dormitory door swung open and Mrs. Diaz walked in.
There was no smile on the housemother’s face; she looked far more serious than usual. A heavy, suffocating pressure filled the room, like the calm before a gathering storm.
Wang Yue immediately wiped the relaxed expression off her face, standing still and playing the part of a confused, innocent student.
The housemother stopped directly in front of her and announced, “Student Wang Yue, we have made a decision. You will be replacing Cynthia in the Class Competition.”
“Huh?” Wang Yue feigned a look of utter shock.
“This is also Cynthia’s personal wish,” the housemother added.
The dormitory went deathly quiet. A crowd of Class Five students was squeezed together at the doorway, peering inside with wide, expectant eyes.
The scene looked like something out of a historical oil painting—the ministers of a grand palace all turning their heads toward the entrance as a high-ranking official, draped in crimson and purple, marched up the hall to accept an imperial decree.
It felt like destiny was being forced upon her.
“How can this be!” Wang Yue cried out, feigning indignation. She spread her hands wide, her voice thick with emotion. “To strip her of her right to compete just because of my mistake? That is wrong! The weight of public opinion shouldn’t fall on that poor girl’s shoulders. I’ll go talk to her right now…”
“Ahem.” The housemother let out a pointed cough. “Student Wang Yue, you must understand that according to the rules, even if Cynthia withdraws, the spot would go to the fifth-place student, not you.”
“Then…”
“Everyone ranked ahead of you has also withdrawn.”
“…”
“Now it is your turn. Do you intend to withdraw as well? If you insist on doing so, I will have to ask the student in fifteenth place if they are willing to compete.” The housemother’s tone grew heavier, carrying a clear warning.
Wang Yue was utterly defeated.
She glanced toward the doorway. In those dozens of pairs of hopeful eyes, she saw a collective will—her classmates wanted to see the four strongest students in the class on that field. They wouldn’t settle for anything less.
It was like the mindset of die-hard sports fans; they wanted their favorite team to field every single star player to make the ticket price worth it. They didn’t want to see substitutes playing just because the opponent was weak; that would ruin the entire experience.
Wang Yue felt like a pigeon skewered over a fire, sizzling and dripping with grease. She was sweating bullets.
She couldn’t dodge this one.
Rubbing her nose, she said helplessly, “Well… I suppose I have no choice but to go.”
“Whoo-hoo!”
A roar of cheers, like a massive tidal wave, erupted from the hallway.
The next morning.
Dorothy’s eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright in bed.
She threw back the covers and scrambled to the foot of the bed, peering out toward the balcony. The small bed there was empty.
“Is Wang Yue gone already?”
“Yeah,” Matcha’s voice drifted over. “The contestants had to gather at four. They’re already at the site by now.”
“That’s so early.”
“I heard from the upperclassmen that there are lounges at the arena. They can catch some sleep there.”
Soon, Mrs. Diaz’s voice echoed through the corridor, reminding the young witches to wash up, change, and gather downstairs immediately.
The students of Class Five pushed their doors open, and the hallway was instantly filled with noise and motion. Their faces were a mix of lingering sleepiness and intense excitement as they discussed the upcoming match.
“We’re going to be on an airship soon! An airship!”
“Are we watching the match from the sky?”
“Yeah! The arena is too big. You can’t see the whole thing unless you’re up in the air.”
“Incredible! I’ve never been in the sky before!”
“I… I’m a little afraid of heights…”
“It’s okay, I’ll hold you.”
“You’re so sweet.”
“Are we allowed to bring snacks?”
“They have food on the airship.”
After finishing their morning routine, the young witches donned their school uniforms and filed out of the dormitory. they formed ranks in the open space out front and set off.
As the column of students wound through the streets and alleys of the academy and entered the plaza in front of the Great Hall, a titan of engineering loomed into view.
The Melo.
It was 170 meters long and 14 meters wide. Eighty percent of its structure was wooden, joined by complex mortar-and-tenon work and reinforced with metal components and rivets. It possessed a longitudinal frame and a sleek, streamlined exterior.
The once-luxurious gold leaf had long since been stripped away by wind and rain, and the sharp edges were heavily worn. Despite the many patches and repairs, it looked more resilient than ever, radiating a profound sense of history.
The hull was covered in Gothic-style reliefs: creeping vines, leaves, butterflies, spiral shells, skulls, horns, and tear-stains… a design that was both gorgeous and eerie.
Floating above the airship was a massive gasbag sewn together from black oilcloth. Burners roared with violet-red magical flames, causing the gasbag to bulge with tension. Thick cables hung down, anchoring the cabin so tightly it looked as if it were straining to leap off the ground.
Over a hundred first-year students lined up to board.
As the hatch closed behind them, they found themselves in a dimly lit hall with long, floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides. Standing by the glass, they could see everything outside with perfect clarity.
Sofas and tables were bolted to the floor to prevent sliding, and tiers of snacks and drinks were already laid out.
Once the witches were seated, the cabin suddenly lurched, drawing a chorus of gasps. Then, as their bodies grew heavy with the sensation of lift, the airship rose into the sky.
Upon reaching high altitude, rows of copper pipes at the stern suddenly vented a torrent of deep purple magical energy, producing a sound as majestic and powerful as a pipe organ.
Dragging a long trail of exhaust flame, The Melo soared across the dark skies of the Evernight Realm.
Deep, rushing rivers, jagged rifts, craggy cliffs, cold spring canyons, and slimy bogs… the airship bypassed countless bizarre landscapes before finally arriving at a hilly region that resembled the folds of a human brain.
Unlike the scenery along the way, this area showed clear signs of being man-made. Viewed from above, its boundary was a perfect circle, and the colors within were almost uniform.
The rocks here consisted of only three materials: sandstone, obsidian, and eclogite. The sandstone was crushed and molded together by magic, while the obsidian and eclogite were interspersed within like tiny prisms, refracting the moonlight.
This was a terrain constructed by witches using pure magical power, deliberately designed to be as surreal and treacherous as possible.
Winding, twisting abysses.
Jagged, broken crags.
Sharp, distorted lonely peaks.
All of it was dotted with beautiful, mysterious blue-green salt lakes.
This was the venue for the Class Competition—the Demon Arena!
Inside the airship, Dorothy held a Nutrition Stick, squinting at the field below as she mumbled, “Mmm… where are the contestants?”
“In those small houses at the edge of the field,” Matcha’s voice came from beside her.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“They’re probably resting. The match hasn’t started yet.”
“Oh, look! There are more small houses over there, see?”
“The five teams definitely enter from different directions,” Matcha explained. “Otherwise, they’d just start fighting immediately. What would be the point of such a big arena?”
Dorothy munched on her Nutrition Stick, the crunch-crunch sound echoing as her eyes darted around. By the bright moonlight, she noticed a massive, spindle-shaped object floating in the sky above the center of the arena.
Its surface was etched with a few deep, strange patterns. Its texture looked like a cross between bone and porcelain, glowing with a pale, ancient, and mysterious light.
Both ends of the spindle had long, narrow slits. It appeared hollow inside, almost like a musical instrument. As the high-altitude winds whistled through the slits, they were transformed into thousands of wispy clouds and soft, brilliant curtains of light.
“What’s that?” Dorothy asked.
“I heard the upperclassmen call it ‘Weather Forecast,'” Matcha replied. “It’s an ancient relic used to regulate the weather inside the arena and create obstacles for the players.”
“Whoa… it can control the weather? Is it a Special Grade Relic?”
“Probably.”
Once the airship moved into its hovering position, the chatter inside the cabin grew louder. The young witches stood up to get a better view, naturally dividing into groups based on their classes.
“Go for it, warriors of Class Four!”
“Whoo! Get that School Trip spot! Go, go, go!”
“Class Two, charge!”
“Let’s team up and take out Class Five first!”
Hearing that, Dorothy turned red with anger. She turned around and shouted, “On what grounds?!”
Crumbs from her half-eaten Nutrition Stick fell to the floor.
“It can’t be helped. Class Five is too strong. Give the rest of us a break,” someone said, shrugging.
“If we don’t eliminate Class Five first, how are we supposed to play? It wouldn’t even be a game. You have to give us a chance, right?”
“The ‘Monsters’ Nest’ isn’t just a nickname. The four girls on the Black Team are actual monsters!”
“Let’s hunt the boss monsters together!”
“Aaah!” Dorothy was fuming, waving her arms. “You guys are shameless!”
Dina pulled her back, trying to calm her down. “The more they talk like that, the more it proves our strength is absolute. Besides, even if two or three teams join forces, they won’t pose a threat to our representatives.”
“But…”
“Don’t you know how strong Wang Yue is? Lilith is beyond brutal, and Medeili and Lulu’anna have both killed real monsters in the Quicksand Lowlands. We have four aces. In Wang Yue’s own words—it’s like a dragon riding over their heads. How could we possibly lose?”
