Miss Witch Doesn't Want to Become a Songstress-Chapter 261

When the blade pierced the guitar and severed its strings, the match came to an end. Even though Princoco could still sing and had backup instruments, the original momentum had been broken, and the burning emotion was interrupted.

“So, it’s been decided.”

Princoco hugged the fractured guitar in her arms, looking up at the gently falling snowflakes. They landed on the still-warm bridge and slowly melted, followed by a soft gust of evening wind.

“You’ve grown so fast, Thilan.”

She unstrapped the guitar and set it down, then raised her hand toward the floating autonomous unit overhead, signaling surrender.

Celebratory fireworks launched from both sides of the bridge, bursting into the sky. Colorful stars showered down, announcing the end of the match.

“The winner is Edess Academy—congratulations! And congratulations to the debut of a new Songstress! Let us all shout her name together!”

“Hestia Thilan!”

“Hestia Thilan!”

“Hestia Thilan!”

As the host finished the announcement, a wave of cheers erupted from both riverbanks. The crowd stood in unison, gazing up at the slender figure on the bridge, their voices surging louder and louder, echoing through the night.

The floating autonomous broadcast units recorded the unforgettable moment until the time bar reached its final frame.

As the match ended, journalists rushed toward the girl stepping down from the bridge, eager to get a firsthand interview. However, Edess Academy had already arranged dedicated personnel to shield and escort her. Though Thilan had officially debuted on the Federation stage, now was not the time for a spontaneous public introduction.

“No comment for now. Please wait for the official press conference organized by the Academy.”

This was Edess Academy’s response that night.

While there was no official statement, curious and enthusiastic individuals started scouring the Net for the identity of the black-haired girl. Unfortunately, due to preemptive action by the Federation Tribunal, most of her traces had already been wiped. Searches were rerouted to sanitized results.

“Though this can keep things confidential for a while, if left unaddressed, it may give rise to all sorts of wild speculations.”

In the armored transport that came to pick up Hestia, Federation Tribunal agent Amelanda offered this reminder. Around their military hovercar hovered six white high-grade Sequence 6 power armors, their pale blue signal lights sealing off the surrounding world.

“I understand. Thank you for your trouble, Amelanda.”

Thilan glanced outside at the dazzling night skyline of the city, then looked back at her personal terminal displaying current web traffic.

In just thirty minutes after the match ended, the topic of her name and identity had stirred an uproar on the StarNet within Verdant Veil—or rather, the entire Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region. Even those previously uninterested in the match were now frantically searching and speculating about her background. The sheer volume of discussion startled even her.

Seeing Thilan slightly uneasy, Amelanda smiled from the front seat and said,

“No need to worry too much. I’m sure Edess Academy has everything prepared. You’ll probably just walk into a press conference and read a script they’ve already written.”

They chatted a bit longer, with Amelanda briefing her on things to be mindful of. Before long, the convoy arrived at Edess Academy.

That night, the academy was different—every building brightly lit, transparent light barriers rising around the campus perimeter, and autonomous drones patrolling overhead. As Thilan stepped out of the hovercar, two full squads of armed security guards escorted her all the way to the central building.

“Welcome back, Thilan.”

As she exited the elevator, several familiar faces stood waiting. Among them were Fernandi, N, and a few other instructors. They led her into a large conference room on that floor.

The floor was a high-definition display screen projecting a satellite view of the planet Verdant Veil. Oceans and continents slowly rotated, with mountains and coasts faintly visible.

As Thilan stepped inside, the board directors stood and clapped in welcome. It made her feel a bit nervous—every one of them was of considerable status and mostly in their 40s or 50s. As transcendents, their aging was slower than most.

“Haha, everyone settle down. Don’t scare Thilan.”

One member gently quieted the applause and had an attendant lead Thilan to her designated seat.

“Although you’ve been enrolled nearly a year, this is probably your first time meeting us old folks.”

A man in a suit and military-style coat, adorned with medals and shoulder marks, spoke. He appeared to be in his fifties, but his actual age was likely older.

“After tonight, you’ve officially debuted as a Songstress. It’s time you became involved in some of the Academy’s core affairs. From here on out, we must cooperate closely. Let me introduce everyone to you.

“First, Chairman Ode, Vice-Director of the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region and Chief Advisor to Governor Temarch, head of the regional government.”

A man with short deep-blue hair, dignified and composed, gave her a brief nod from the central seat.

“Next is Ms. Lianxin, Vice-Chair of the Southern Ten Moon Star Alliance—a coalition of 27 mega-corporations and 379 large enterprises dedicated to revitalizing the economy across seventeen star regions in the Federation’s southwest quadrant.”

A woman with neatly coiled black hair nodded politely.

“Then we have Mr. Edmond, Chair of the Federation’s Planned Military-Industrial Complex. This group evolved from a wartime coordination body 400 years ago that oversaw military production and the deployment of Sigh Dragon-class battleships. Though officially disbanded post-war, its personnel remained, forming today’s premier mediator among military manufacturers.

“These three are the most senior members of the Academy’s board. Due to their schedules, they don’t spend much time on campus. Now, let me introduce some members Thilan might find more familiar.

“Board Member Jikoyi, from the Federation’s highest Institute of Science. He specializes in Matrix Crystallography and leads the school’s scientific planning and R&D projects.”

A thin man in a white lab coat and thick glasses stood up. Even during the meeting, data flickered on his lenses—he was still monitoring experiments remotely.

“Next, Board Member Haydn, Chairman of the Verdant Veil Oceanic Union, an organization committed to restoring marine ecology and regulating fisheries.”

An elderly, shorter man stood and nodded.

Thilan didn’t know him well, but it was Board Member Haydn who helped Fernandi eliminate opposition, allowing Hestia to smoothly enroll in Edess Academy. He was also an old acquaintance of Lady Isabelle, and later approved the joint training program with Swallow Garden Academy.

“Next is Madam Ursula. She is the chairwoman of Seven Verdant Hills and also the speaker of the Verdant Veil Environmental Governance Committee. Seven Verdant Hills is a company that owns many orchards and mountainous territories, renowned for its magical fruit, the ‘Seven Verdant Fruit’.”

A woman with deep purple curls, draped in a gauzy shawl, stood and gave Thilan a slight nod before sitting back down.

“Then we have Mr. Songxue. He is a senior member of the Federal Artists Association, specializing in architectural design and sculpture. Forty-two years ago, he served as the chief designer of the ‘Dancing Sky Steps’ project in the Flying Feather Star Region.”

An elderly man in traditional attire, with gray-white hair and a kind expression, stood up, smiled at Thilan, and then sat down.

“Following that are Mr. Hobson, Mr. Mindick, Mr. Xuyan, and Mr. Mackey, who are shareholders or directors of Tianwei Technologies, White Gravel Materials, Fica Dynamics, and Mingfang Botanicals, respectively.”

The four men rose in turn. Though the brief introductions made them chuckle wryly, none of them dared to express dissatisfaction compared to the earlier high-ranking individuals.

“And then there’s Sentlei, Phylline...”

The speaker continued introducing over twenty more board members. The sheer number of names, companies, and organizations was overwhelming, and Thilan could only do her best to remember the faces and titles, hoping to learn more later.

“Lastly, allow me to introduce myself.”

Once the others had finished, the man with the medal on his chest turned to Thilan.

“My name is Amenon. I’m a retired military officer, formerly a sub-fleet commander in the Southern 5th Patrol Fleet. The highest honor I received was the Triangular Steel Dragon Medal. I wasn’t particularly outstanding among my peers, but now I live a quiet life. Occasionally, I serve as a professor of military studies and honorary instructor at the Foldstar Academy.”

In today’s Federation, any officer who holds the rank of fleet commander and fails to be promoted within eight years is automatically retired. This policy helps ensure constant rotation among commanders and prevents power from consolidating within the military. It also maintains morale among mid- and lower-ranking officers by offering real chances for advancement.

After his introduction, Amenon asked Thilan about the upcoming press conference.

“As for your sister’s identity, it likely won’t stay hidden for long, but there’s no need to avoid it deliberately. As for your parents... we’ll keep part of that private. Since your father left on his own, we’ll respect his wishes.”

He then, on behalf of the board, discussed her future security arrangements and the various forms of support the academy could provide.

“Now that you’ve made your debut, it won’t be long before the Central Federal Parliament sends someone to receive you,” Amenon said toward the end of the meeting. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

“Is something wrong?” the girl asked, curious.

“No need to worry. Whenever a new Songstress is discovered or officially debuts, they must visit the Central Parliament for a full registry. This includes verifying identity and talent, recording voice, visuals, and other relevant data. You’ll also be granted the rights and protections afforded to a Songstress.”

“In essence, once this process is completed, you’ll be formally recognized as a Songstress by the Federation and eligible to attend all official events in that capacity.”

“I understand.” Thilan nodded, her slender frame sitting upright in her chair.

Though she had now earned the identity and recognition of a Songstress, it was hard not to feel nervous in the presence of these board members.

“All right, that concludes the formal meeting for today. Next is a brief banquet. Thilan, feel free to mingle and speak with the board members. I’m sure many are eager to speak with you.”

With that, Amenon clapped his hands, and everyone stood. The meeting adjourned.

The conference tables and chairs slowly retracted into the floor. A round banquet hall emerged, and self-operating robots entered pushing food carts. Within minutes, the room was transformed into a lavish banquet setting. Light, soothing music began to play, and six semicircular stages extended from the upper walls of the hall. Out walked elegantly dressed retro-style automaton dancers in black and crimson gowns, who began performing a graceful dance.

At the center of attention stood the black-swan-like girl. But the gathered dignitaries didn’t swarm her; instead, they respectfully chatted among themselves first.

Just when Thilan began to wonder if she was being left out, a woman with neatly tied black hair approached. She wore a high-grade satin outfit embroidered with black plum blossoms on its snow-white trim. Despite her aged appearance, she remained elegant and dignified.

“Hello, Thilan. I’m Lianxin.”

Though much older, the noblewoman greeted her with polite warmth.

“Hello, Madam Lianxin. I’m Thilan.”

The girl returned the greeting with poise, then accepted the invitation to sit at a nearby round table.

“Chairman Ode is a man—he didn’t want to scare you by coming over first, so he asked me to break the ice.”

Lianxin’s tone was formal yet gentle, putting others at ease without them noticing.

“Thank you, ma’am, for looking after me.”

Thilan felt her nerves begin to ease.

“Hohoho, seeing you up close, Thilan, you truly are just as beautiful and charming as described. No wonder Haydn mentioned you so many times in our communications.”

Madam Lianxin began sharing what she knew of Thilan.

“That must’ve been about ten months ago—after you’d already started school—when Haydn brought up your name during a cross-regional Aijeka conference. I was in the Gravity Well Star Region at the time, attending a local business alliance meeting.”

“I was very surprised when I received the news—it felt almost unbelievable. Good fortune like this is so rare. In the past forty years, only two Songstresses have emerged in the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region. With you, that makes three.”

“During the early Federation era, when the nature of Songstress talents was poorly understood and detection methods didn’t exist, a person would only be recognized as a Songstress if they happened to love music or worked in related fields. As a result, Songstresses were extremely rare, often only a handful across the entire Federation.”

“Later, with more research and the emergence of various detection techniques, many previously hidden Songstresses were discovered.”

“Since then, the number of registered Songstresses has hovered between 40 and 80. Divided across the Federation’s many star regions, it’s an incredibly low figure.”

“Currently, there are 76 registered, living Songstresses. Of those, only 63 are still active. Among them, just 11 have reached Full Moon-Grade standard.”

Madam Lianxin explained the present-day reality of the Federation and the value of the Songstress title, helping Thilan better understand her position.

“When ‘Fiery Sugar’ Princoco debuted two years ago, many star regions were envious. Although the Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region’s previous Songstress, ‘Verdant Serpent’ Yolanda, had retired, the appearance of a new Songstress so soon after amazed and even incited jealousy across the Federation. After all, there are over 230 star regions in the Federation, and most don’t even have one Songstress.”

“This uneven distribution is just reality, like the imbalance between drought and flood.”

“With your debut, the Federation’s star regions will likely be buzzing with news. Don’t worry about publicity—many media outlets will gladly promote you.”

Madam Lianxin laughed lightly behind her hand.

“Eh?”

Thilan wasn’t too eager to be famous, but it seemed reality would no longer allow her to remain low-profile.

“Prepare yourself for a new life, Thilan.”

“If you have questions or things you wish to do in the future, you can always reach out to us grown-ups. I believe everyone would be more than happy to help.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot—here is my contact keycard. You can use it to reach me, even across star regions.”

She handed over a sleek white card with a plum blossom emblem in one corner and a detailed circuitry port on the back. It could be inserted into the Aijeka immersive system for secure, long-distance communication.

“All right, that’s enough of our conversation for now. The others must be eager to speak with you too. Hoho~”

With that, she stood, bid farewell to Thilan, and within half a minute, another board member took the seat in front of her.