Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

“…So, that’s roughly how it all happened.”

In the Special Security Agency of Southern 1st District, Hestia recounted the events of the previous night to the three investigators before her.

After listening to her description and comparing it to the evidence they had gathered, the three investigators exchanged glances and nodded slightly.

“That will be all for today.” The sealed door opened, and Annelie, who had been waiting outside, rushed in to embrace Hestia. It was a few moments before she let go.

“You’re alright now, right?” She glanced at the three investigators.

“If no further complications arise, everything should be fine,” one of them replied cautiously, maintaining their professional demeanor.

Back at home, Hestia received a more detailed explanation from Annelie about the results of the investigation.

“Ranbell is a member of the Hodvida family, a lineage registered centuries ago as a special bloodline within the Federation. Members of her family are exceptionally long-lived. Ranbell’s true age is 324, but she’s spent 271 of those years in slumber.”

“So, it’s true when she says she’s ageless and immortal?” Hestia was curious, though she suspected there had to be some limitation; otherwise, such a trait would have drawn widespread attention and pursuit.

“Yes, their so-called ‘agelessness’ and ‘immortality’ depend heavily on extended periods of sleep for recovery and regulation. And there’s no such thing as true immortality,” Annelie explained.

“When someone is killed, they die.” She raised a finger and wagged it lightly.

“Her immortality only means she’s strong enough and hasn’t met someone stronger.”

“The Hodvida family’s records within the Federation are relatively clean—they’ve committed no crimes and have always kept a low profile. Over time, the authorities just stopped paying them much attention.”

“But this time, she definitely bit off more than she could chew,” Annelie said with a hint of smug satisfaction.

“To think she would try to mess with our Thilan. Absolutely despicable.”

“Alright, it wasn’t that bad,” Hestia said, shaking her head. Despite the severity of the situation, she hadn’t sensed any genuine intent to kill from Ranbell. Clearly, Ranbell had ensured there was a way to remedy things if necessary.

“So, what now? Is Ranbell being detained? Will she face punishment?”

“I’m not sure. For someone like her, imprisonment might just feel like a few boring years,” Annelie said thoughtfully.

“Can I see her?” Hestia asked after a moment of consideration.

“You can, but do you really want to let her off so easily?” Annelie was curious.

“I’ve thought about it, but I need to confirm a few things first.” Hestia tilted her head in contemplation.

“Logically speaking, someone who plots against me deserves my hatred and retribution. But lately, I don’t feel that way.”

“Annelie, you probably don’t understand this kind of thinking,” Hestia said, standing by the balcony and shading her forehead with her arm as she looked at the bright sky.

“Not entirely,” Annelie admitted, standing behind her, observing the girl’s silhouette.

Hestia’s aura had grown so refined, Annelie thought to herself.

“How can I explain it…” Hestia mused, then began to speak slowly.

“It’s like dreaming of a beautiful world across the sea—a place with breathtaking landscapes, flower fields, and serene vistas. But you’re stranded on an island, with no boat to cross the waters.”

“You want to build a ship, so you wander through the forest looking for materials. Along the way, a thorny tree scratches your hand. It hurts, but you realize it’s the perfect material for your boat.”

“Burning the tree would be satisfying revenge, but I’m no longer a child. I know there are far more important things to do.”

“Some may see this as an adult’s compromise, a reluctant acceptance of life’s demands. They might think forgiving someone makes you weak, a clown in the eyes of others.”

“But the world doesn’t revolve around you. No one is obligated to cater to your feelings or always treat you kindly. Conflict and friction between people are inevitable.”

“If someone schemes against me, I might dislike it, but I can understand it. I don’t feel particularly angry or vengeful. On the other hand, when someone flatters me, I don’t become overly elated.”

“If I sought revenge for every little thing, wouldn’t that be petty? Time and energy are precious. With so many important goals ahead, why waste them demanding that life conform to my whims?”

“I don’t want to set unnecessary obstacles for myself. Ranbell may have acted with ill intent, but it wasn’t that malicious. I feel I can forgive her—not because of principles or rules, but simply because I choose to.”

“I can see that beautiful world on the other side of the sea now. I want to cross the waters, and I’ve found the perfect tree to build my ship. I’m willing to bleed a little if that’s the cost.” Hestia turned to Annelie, her gaze steady.

“Do you understand my thoughts now?”

“Yes,” Annelie nodded, admiration for Hestia growing even deeper.

Something about her felt different now.

Although Hestia had articulated these thoughts herself, it was only in explaining them to Annelie that she began to clarify the roots of her ideas.

Humans are peculiar creatures. The same experiences can yield different answers at various stages of life.

A year ago, she might have feared someone like Ranbell and avoided her altogether. But now, this seemed like a minor episode, and Ranbell’s actions no longer appeared so threatening.

Perhaps after facing monsters and demons, even snarling roadside animals start to seem endearing. It’s all about perspective.

The Four-Leaf Crystal Star Region was a small, remote corner of the Federation. The Rose Federation itself wasn’t the entirety of the galaxy. And even the galaxy was but a tiny fragment of the universe.

Whenever Hestia dreamed of the eras and landscapes experienced by the previous generations of Color-Grade Songstresses, she couldn’t help but reflect on her insignificance. Yet, that sense of smallness became a driving force, propelling her forward.

She wasn’t a child anymore—no longer elated over a piece of candy or too scared to return to school after a fight.

Time strips away naïve joy but grants some the serenity to see the world clearly.

Now, she wanted to see the world across the sea.