Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

Among the students participating in the next round of assessments, some demonstrated calm leadership, others gave constant reminders before entering, and a few yelled angrily during the tests.

“Don’t overthink it! Just charge ahead! If you run again, I’ll beat you when we get back!”

On a high platform, a student with a fierce expression shouted at the pangolin below.

“Chirp—chirp!”

Frightened by both the illusory mice and the student’s commands, the pangolin was caught in a panic-driven dilemma. Ultimately, it seemed the student above was scarier. The pangolin slowly turned around, its back pressed against the wall, and faced the advancing illusory mice with a low growl.

“That’s it! You’re covered in armor—what’s there to fear?” The boy above immediately felt much more satisfied.

The battle began, and as the boy had predicted, although the illusory mice attacked ferociously, they couldn’t inflict any real damage on the armored pangolin. After several rounds of combat, the pangolin gradually overcame its fear and fought back, biting and clawing until it defeated both illusory mice.

“Sally, passed!”

After the staff announced the result, discussions broke out among the other students.

“Is this even allowed? Using intimidation and threats—wasn’t this test supposed to be about ‘bonding’?”

“Yeah, his tone was way too harsh,” a girl commented critically.

Hearing these remarks, the boy lifted the pangolin onto his shoulder and responded confidently, “What do you know? In critical moments, there’s no time for coddling or gentle persuasion. Orders must be followed, period.”

“As long as we win, there’ll be rewards. It’s not like I’m mistreating it.” With that, he left the arena proudly, carrying his “companion.”

The assessment had no restrictions on methods, and each participant interpreted the concept of “bonding” differently. Some relied on mutual trust to help their partners overcome fear, others used intimidation to force compliance, while some analyzed their partners’ abilities to guide them to effortless victories.

Faced with challenging tests, the students were compelled to make their own choices.

By the end of this round, about 60% of the participants had been eliminated, leaving fewer than a third of the original group.

“The pretenders are all gone now. The next two rounds will require serious focus,” remarked a top student dressed in a black-and-red uniform as she leaned against the office window. Her gaze shifted from the holographic display on the desk.

“How many students are left?” she asked. The two others in the room began checking.

“There are 376 students who passed the second round, with an additional 207 yet to report to campus.”

“The admission quota for this year is 318. After allocating 38 spots to special channels, that leaves only 280 regular slots. Considering the students who haven’t arrived yet, we’ll need to eliminate about a third of the remaining candidates.”

“Honestly, the students who passed the second round are already impressive. Maybe not exceptionally talented, but at least not mediocre. Only those with excellent theoretical scores could qualify for these re-tests in the first place,” a short-haired boy commented.

“The third round is set by the instructors. I wonder how it’s progressing,” one of them mused, glancing out the window.

In the distance, green hills dotted with white stone chairs came into view. Several instructors in brown formal attire sat conversing with the candidates.

…

“Good afternoon. You must be Hestia,” said a bespectacled male instructor, holding a clipboard. He wore a matching brown hat, completing the look of a quintessential academy teacher.

“Hello,” the girl replied politely, nodding alongside the small serpent she held.

“Don’t worry; there’s no need to be nervous. This is just a casual chat to clear up any misunderstandings. You won’t be eliminated or graded here,” he said with a warm smile, easing the tension.

“Although our academy emphasizes ‘bonding,’ it’s not a path for everyone. Some geniuses are inherently solitary, and forcing them into groups only causes discomfort.”

“To avoid such unfavorable outcomes, we need to ensure that candidates understand our approach. If you feel this style doesn’t suit you, it doesn’t mean your abilities or aspirations are lacking.”

“Everyone is unique. Twisting yourself to gain others’ approval would only make life unbearable,” he concluded.

“Now that you know why I’m here, let me ask you some questions, Hestia.”

“Alright,” she replied.

“What kind of person do you dislike the most?” he began with an unexpected question, prompting her to reflect.

It was common to be asked about preferences, but rarely about dislikes.

“I dislike people who are self-righteous and impose their narrow viewpoints on others.”

“I see,” the instructor noted down, “dislikes stubborn fools.”

“What kind of environment do you find most comfortable or enjoyable?”

“I prefer quiet places, like a library or classroom where I can see the sunset.”

“Interesting…” He scribbled again, adding “bookish and serene” to his notes.

“What kind of boy do you find attractive?”

“I don’t think I have a particular preference,” Hestia said with a small shake of her head.

“Got it,” he jotted down “cool and indifferent.”

“What kind of person do you think you’ll become in the future?”

“I don’t know,” she answered after a pause.

“Hmm.” He wrote, “cautious and introspective.”

“What kind of food do you like?”

“I enjoy chiffon cake, green tangerines, watermelon, tasty rice, grilled fish, hotpot, wontons, and pan-seared steak,” she answered, listing many items after some thought.

“Interesting.” He initially wrote “foodie” but then crossed it out, replacing it with “practical and capable.”

“Can you cook these? If so, tell me about it.”

“Yes, I can. For instance, chiffon cake is made by…”

As she explained, he revised his notes to “skilled in daily life and proactive.”

“If you were assigned a dormitory, which one would you choose? We have five options: the Skylark Tower, the Forest Treehouse, the Violet Mansion, the Lakeside Boathouse, and the Vine Courtyard. Each offers unique perks.”

“For example, Skylark Tower students receive a book and a colorful feather each month. Forest Treehouse students get five pieces of T4-grade fruit and seeds. Purple Residence offers a top-tier weapon and bonus credits at the year-end. Lakeside Boathouse provides three lunar gems and a rare T4-grade sturgeon monthly. Lastly, Vine Courtyard students receive a pot of flowers and a mana-condensing elixir.”

Hestia thought carefully, as all the options were appealing, but she could choose only one.

“I’ll go with Skylark Tower,” she eventually decided.

“Why? Based on your earlier answers, you seem to like good food.”

The girl tilted her head and blinked. “I can eat anytime, but reading is more important. Besides, I used to live in a dim underground city. If possible, I’d like to be closer to the sky now.”

“I see.” The instructor closed his clipboard.

“This is the location for the final round of the assessment. However, it won’t open until 2 PM, so feel free to grab some food first.”

“See you later, Hestia. I wish you the best of luck,” he said with a slight bow before leaving.