Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

“Hestia, do you know what charisma is?” Botis asked, resting her chin on one hand while stirring the ice and drink in her cup with the other.

“Charisma isn’t just about appearance; it encompasses much more.”

“There’s a legend about an ancient emperor who, after suffering a great defeat, was overthrown and imprisoned. One day, he managed to escape from captivity.”

“When the nation sent troops to capture him, the emperor stood before them, spread his arms, and declared, ‘Your emperor has returned.’ The soldiers, one by one, switched sides. Even the general had to dismount, powerless to oppose the will of the majority.”

“This kind of charisma doesn’t come from appearance but from actions and accomplishments that have become legends. This profound personal charisma inspires countless people, making them willing to follow, fight, and even sacrifice their lives for him.”

“Why is that? Because people saw in him a glimmer of hope—a genuine, powerful sincerity that shone like the sun, drawing everyone around him.”

“Throughout history, those who ended eras of chaos and established new orders often possessed such qualities—or at least some of them.”

“In the transcendent era, there’s a rare group of individuals born with this innate gift. Even if they are unremarkable in appearance, their voice, expressions, and movements have a unique charm that inspires trust and admiration.”

“The most powerful among them are the legendary Color-Grade Songstresses. When they take the stage, their emotions, prayers, and soul-stirring songs penetrate the hearts of everyone present. They can unite diverse, even conflicting, perspectives into a singular direction.”

“This soul-piercing power, capable of reshaping the world, leaves countless people awestruck. Even those who experienced it later recalled the moment without regret.”

“It’s as if a light appeared in the foggy darkness of life, guiding everyone toward it. I can’t quite describe the feeling, but it’s something you wouldn’t regret or feel sorrow for.”

“Many who helped establish the Federation wrote in their memoirs that looking back on their decisions felt almost surreal. Their choices seemed out of character, but the resulting harmony, unity, and progress were like a dream come true.”

“Sadly, after the passing of the Golden Flame Rose, no one has experienced such a phenomenon again. Although the Federation continues to expand, many conservative critics claim this is merely the fading glow of a past radiance, one that will eventually dissipate.”

As Botis spoke, she became so absorbed in the tale that she didn’t notice the ice in her glass had long melted.

“Oh, I think I got carried away. Where were we?” she suddenly snapped back to reality.

“You were talking about the legendary deeds of the Golden Flame Rose,” Forneus, standing behind the bar, said as she placed a prepared meal in front of the green-haired maid.

“Ah, yes! I’ve admired her since I was a child, not just because of her legend but also because I was discovered to have a bit of her traits.”

“Did you used to be a songstress, Botis?” Forneus asked curiously, while Hestia perked up her ears.

“I did!” Botis said with a smile, raising a finger in front of her golden eyes.

“I was tested for the gift in high school, so I started training and joined the school band.”

“I was a legend back then. So many people confessed to me,” she said, waving her fingers playfully.

“Those were truly unforgettable memories.”

“But I wasn’t someone with immense talent. Although I had songstress traits, I was only Starlight-Grade. I wasn’t even Full Moon-Grade, so I was destined to stick with the band route. Politics or reshaping the Federation were out of the question.”

“That’s still amazing—Starlight-Grade is no small feat,” Forneus replied, shaking her head.

The gift of the songstress is classified into nine grades, broadly categorized as Star, Moon, and Sun. The lowest is Starlight-Grade, and the highest is Blazing Sun-Grade. Beyond that pinnacle lies Color-Grade, a term derived from ancient descriptions of the highest songstress grade.

During the pre-space era, the most renowned songstresses were the Azure Songstress and the Crimson Songstress. Over time, it became customary to associate the greatest songstresses with a specific color, calling them Color-Grade. The term signifies their ability to “paint the world with color” and achieve miracles that transform the world.

The founder of the Rose Federation was represented by gold—the Golden Flame Rose. In the Federation’s history spanning several centuries, only two Color-Grade songstresses have ever emerged. One was the founder, the Golden Flame Rose, and the other was the Blue Cobalt Tear, who lived over 400 years ago. Both of their legacies profoundly shaped the Federation’s history.

“It’s been nearly fifty years since a Blazing Sun-Grade songstress appeared within the Federation. The most widely known today are a few Full Moon-Grade songstresses. While their influence isn’t negligible, it’s far from being capable of altering the Federation’s course. At most, they’re beloved celebrities admired by the public,” Botis explained.

The simulated sunset bathed the Crystal Dream in its amber glow. The shop was quiet, with few patrons remaining. The mirrored floor reflected the sky’s golden-orange hues, creating a dreamlike scene reminiscent of polished amber.

Hestia ate slowly, her earlier tension easing as the workday drew to a close. The gentle clinking of her spoon against the porcelain plate punctuated the tranquil atmosphere as she savored the meal Forneus had prepared for her.

Though she wasn’t sure why, Hestia felt a faint sense of happiness.

As Hestia finished her meal and continued listening to Botis recount past events, Belphegor finally arrived. She twirled a diamond-shaped shard between her fingers, her steps light and lively.

“Dantalion, so this is where you are! How’s your day been? I was late this morning and heard Amdusias looked after you,” she said, taking a seat at the bar and ordering a chilled drink.

“This morning, I helped Sister Amdusias tend to the greenhouse, and in the afternoon, I went with Botis to collect venom,” Hestia replied.

“Collect venom?” Belphegor exclaimed in alarm, her voice tinged with panic.

“Don’t tell me Botis tricked you into visiting that terrifying snake den of hers?”

“I’m right here, you know. If you’re going to talk behind my back, at least be subtle about it. Besides, why call it a snake den? I also keep spiders and frogs,” Botis retorted, wrapping her arms around Hestia from behind, causing the girl to fall back into her embrace with a flustered expression.

“In such a cozy, delightful shop, keeping snakes and spiders around? If I were the manager, I wouldn’t stand for it. What if they scare the customers?” Belphegor said, crossing her arms and glaring at Botis with her ears twitching in irritation.

“You just said the manager agreed to it, so why are you still complaining? Or could it be that this little bunny is simply terrified of snakes and using this as an excuse for personal grievances?” Botis teased with a smirk, which only made Belphegor more indignant, though she didn’t dare take action—her fear of snakes was genuine.

Caught between the two quarreling senior colleagues, Hestia felt like a small animal swept up in a storm. But since she was being held by Botis, there was no escape.

After a while, their debate reached a stalemate, and it was Forneus who finally stepped in to diffuse the situation—silencing Belphegor with a straw in her drink.

“Enough. No more arguing with this bunny. Hestia, are you coming in tomorrow?” Botis asked.

“I think so,” Hestia replied, her eyes darting to Belphegor as if seeking her help. But the bunny-eared woman was busy sipping her drink and typing on her terminal, oblivious to the plea.

“Good. No venom collecting tomorrow. I’ll teach you something else,” Botis said, her lips curling into a smile that hinted at a well-formed plan.

Relieved to hear there’d be no venom collection, Hestia let out a small sigh. At least tomorrow wouldn’t be as nerve-wracking as today.

But, as Botis had mentioned, the initial tension had given way by the end. Hestia found herself less afraid of the spiders and snakes—perhaps this was the power of acclimation?

In any case, the second day of work ended on a pleasant note. Tonight, she’d sleep soundly.

…

After Hestia left, Botis remained at the bar, sipping a glass of red wine and lost in thought.

“Something on your mind? You’re still here, and I’m about to close up,” Forneus said as she finished tidying up behind the counter.

“Yes, a little,” Botis admitted.

“Is it about the new maid, Dantalion?”

“Your observations are as sharp as ever,” Botis remarked with a sigh.

“She reminded me of a lot of old memories today. I guess I’m a person with stories to tell,” Botis mused.

“Looks like I’ll be playing the role of listener tonight,” Forneus replied with a smile, taking a seat beside her.

“As I mentioned before, I once dabbled in a band because of my soul resonance traits,” Botis began.

“Ah, yes. Those wild days—your notorious reputation in Southern 2nd District even reached me. I only now realize you were the lead singer,” Forneus said with amusement.

“A young lady like you hearing about that—it’s an honor,” Botis replied with a wry smile, recalling how excessive her actions were back then.

“Our band didn’t just perform; we got into death races, brawls, and street fights. We crashed parties and roamed the night causing trouble. I still don’t understand how the higher-ups tolerated us without dishing out severe punishment.”

“Maybe they indulged you because it had been ages since someone with your talents appeared in our constellation,” Forneus said, gazing at the simulated night sky sprinkled with starlight.

“The Four-Leaf Crystal Constellation has already fallen into decline. If a renowned songstress were to emerge—even if they didn’t enter politics but pursued a career in entertainment as a singer or idol—it would still be great publicity and bring some economic benefit to the region,” Forneus remarked.

“The trouble you caused may seem significant to ordinary people, but to those in power, it’s no more than child’s play. If you could contribute even a 0.1% positive change to the constellation, it would more than make up for the damage you caused.”

“I couldn’t do it,” Botis said with a shake of her head.

“It’s not like I didn’t consider further exploring my talents, but I realized it was beyond me. Reaching the Starlight-Grade was already my limit. While my performances could stir emotions, ignite passion, and excite people temporarily, that emotional resonance would fade quickly after the show ended.”

“No matter how well we performed live, our band couldn’t extend its influence beyond our local system. At best, we were famous here and nowhere else.”

“It hit me hard. Gradually, I withdrew from the scene. Those in power likely noticed my limits too and slowly gave up on me,” Botis admitted with a hint of melancholy.

“It’s alright. Compared to most people, you’re already incredibly fortunate. Besides, you’re now using your talent to tame dangerous creatures. If you weren’t so good at it, the manager wouldn’t trust you to keep those venomous creatures in a corner of the shop.”

“True. While my abilities are limited when it comes to people, they work well on animals with weaker consciousness and souls,” Botis said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Actually, I didn’t come here to recount sad stories today.” After finishing her drink, she suddenly lifted her head, her face lighting up with a mysterious smile that dispelled her earlier sorrow. The silver-trimmed maid beside her felt deceived—what a mischievous woman!

“Do you know, Forneus? I’ve noticed something similar in Dantalion. While I’m not yet sure how great her talent is, you understand what I mean, don’t you?”

Forneus’s eyes widened in surprise at her companion’s words.

“You’re saying little Dantalion has the soul resonance gift too?”

“Yes. While working earlier, I lent her the bell, and that’s when I noticed something unusual.”

“For an ordinary person, ringing the bell merely triggers a conditioned response in the venomous creatures, making them obey. But when she rang it, there was a genuine calming effect on the animals and people around her.”

“I know this feeling all too well.”

“The ability to project one’s emotions and intentions outward to influence others.”

“There’s no doubt about it—she’s destined to be a songstress, and not just any kind. At the very least, her talent is at the Full Moon Grade, possibly even the Blazing Sun Grade.”

“As for me, I’m no longer in the spotlight. But you, Forneus… While I don’t know exactly which noble family you belong to, you must understand Dantalion’s value.”

The silver-trimmed maid shook her head.

“Yes, I come from a prominent family, but do you think someone important enough to inherit power would be working in a place like this?”

“What you’re talking about is beyond my reach. I’ve long been a marginal figure in my family, without influence but enjoying freedom.”

“If you want me to invest in Dantalion, well… sigh, it seems I’ll be busy again. I thought I could enjoy a long, leisurely life,” Forneus said.

“I’ll consult my grandfather. Perhaps he can offer some advice.”

“But before I do, I need to confirm that Dantalion truly has the talent you described. Otherwise, making a fool of myself would be too embarrassing.”

With that, Forneus stood up. By now, the shop was nearly empty.

“Let’s leave it here for tonight.” She bid Botis farewell, picked up her bag, and headed outside.

Watching the silver-trimmed maid leave, Botis rose from the bar as well.

“So, she really is from a noble family. I always thought it was just a joke, but today’s little trick got her to admit it,” Botis mused.

“Indeed, the identity and talent of a songstress can make people lose their composure,” she said, the faint golden light in her eyes fading.

“Well, this is as far as I can go. Once she’s back home, Forneus will probably realize what I did and give me an earful.”

“But it doesn’t matter. Now that she knows, she won’t be able to remain indifferent like before.”

“Forgive me, dear mother in heaven. Your daughter has done something mischievous again today. But rest assured, she has no regrets.”

After a brief moment of silent prayer, Botis left the quiet, serene Crystal Dream as well.