Chapter 6 – The Enthusiastic Little Witches

When Mo Lan first tested as a Sorceress, she had felt as though she were a woman of destiny.

But when three Sorceresses appeared in the same class, and the Academy already had a Sorceress senior only one year older than them, Mo Lan’s excitement had already settled.

Perhaps in the past, witches who evolved into Sorceresses were exceedingly rare, but now she was merely one of four lucky ones.

No matter how impressive Sorceresses were, at the end of the day, it was only their potential that was impressive.

But potential was not the same as actual strength.

Having gained the gift of limitless growth, she should devote herself even more to her studies, transforming that gift into real power.

The surprises at this year’s enrollment ceremony had been too great. Even after the testing ritual concluded, the great hall still buzzed with fervent discussion.

Lady Amisha made no move to stop them. She was busy recording something in the 《Witch Clan Book》.

As the main subjects of the little witches’ discussions, Mo Lan, Vasida, and Sylph had no choice but to face the endless stream of seniors and classmates coming up to greet them.

Mo Lan was not truly a thirteen-year-old child, so this level of attention was nothing to her.

Besides, the entire Witch Academy had only about one hundred and fifty-six students across all five grades — fewer than the number of students in a general education lecture at her university in her previous life.

To her, it was hardly worth mentioning.

She wasn’t sure if it was because her mind held the vast planetary memories of Earth, but Mo Lan had discovered from a very young age that her memory far surpassed that of ordinary people.

Everything she saw and heard would form into sequences of images in her mind, just like the Earth planetary memories stored in her brain, recorded and available for recall at any time.

However, only the things she had once carefully observed would appear with clear detail in her memory.

Using this ability, Mo Lan memorized every senior’s name, year, and magical discipline specialty.

It was true that Sorceresses had greater potential and stronger talent than ordinary witches.

But when it came to research and application within a single specific school of magic, a Sorceress with all-element affinity might not necessarily surpass a witch who specialized in one particular discipline.

In Mo Lan’s eyes, these weren’t seniors at all — they were walking spellbooks, treasure troves of knowledge.

The upper-year seniors all had the insignia of their specialized magic pinned to their school robes, making their expertise immediately apparent.

Every senior who came over was seized by Mo Lan and peppered with questions about tips for studying their particular school of magic.

When classmates from her own year came up to greet her, Mo Lan would call out their names first.

She had memorized them all during the earlier testing.

She had even remembered every little witch’s talent assessment results.

Being remembered by name before you even introduced yourself to someone you wanted to get to know — that was certainly something that would make any witch happy.

At first, every little witch whose name was called out first had their impression of Mo Lan soar, each thinking she was the special one.

It wasn’t until later, when every single little witch had been called by name, that they all realized — Mo Lan had memorized all of their names!

“As expected of a Sorceress!” all the little witches couldn’t help but exclaim in amazement.

Nearby, Sylph deeply felt the need to clarify that not all Sorceresses had memory as good as Mo Lan’s.

She had been too worried about her own test results before and had barely remembered any of her classmates’ names.

The results had been far beyond her expectations, but as the very last person tested, she hadn’t even recovered from the shock before being surrounded by enthusiastic seniors and classmates.

Ever since she was little, she had lived with her father and mother in the Starlight Forest on the eastern edge of the Wilds, and had never once seen so many witches her own age at one time.

Everyone’s enthusiasm left her feeling flattered yet nervous and at a loss for what to do.

She didn’t have Mo Lan’s natural ease with people. All she could do was work hard to maintain her smile and respond to the other little witches’ greetings as politely and gracefully as she could manage.

But she kept feeling that she wasn’t doing well enough, that she was being rude to everyone’s warmth, and so she felt a twinge of shame.

A flush of crimson crept across her fair complexion. Inspired by Mo Lan, she too tried her hardest to memorize every little witch’s distinguishing features and name.

But the results were clearly not great. Aside from a few particularly distinctive ones, she hadn’t managed to remember any of them.

So it was just Mo Lan who had exceptional memory, not Sorceresses in general.

Sylph looked over at Mo Lan, who was handling everything with effortless composure, and felt a deep pang of envy.

While interacting with the other little witches, Mo Lan didn’t forget to keep an eye on the two Sorceress classmates in her year.

As fellow Sorceresses, beyond the talent for limitless growth, they also possessed talent manifestation objects that ordinary witches did not have.

When it came to developing their talent manifestation objects, they could learn from each other.

When Sylph looked her way, Mo Lan noticed immediately. Since neither of them could spare the time to talk, they simply exchanged smiles and a nod.

Mo Lan’s gaze couldn’t help but linger for a few seconds on Sylph’s crimson ears.

Sylph’s ears were slightly pointed.

Witches awakened from human women, so most witches had ears just like ordinary humans.

Mo Lan guessed that Sylph’s paternal bloodline might be that of the pointed-eared elves, or perhaps Sylph’s mother was a witch with elven blood.

Compared to Sylph, who was shy but trying her best to respond to everyone’s goodwill, Vasida seemed far more withdrawn.

Her two hands were clasped tightly together, her head hanging low.

Her short black hair fell forward, hiding her face, revealing only the lower half of her rounded chin.

Already a head shorter than everyone else, it was now even harder to read her expression.

When little witches came to greet her, she would only give the slightest nod.

It seemed somewhat rude, but Mo Lan, standing beside her, heard her quietly whisper “hello.”

Could she have social anxiety?

Mo Lan felt a spark of excitement and was just about to say something to her during a brief lull, when the great hall suddenly fell silent.

Many little witches had their mouths open without sound — they had all been “muted.”

At that moment, Lady Amisha’s voice rang out:

“Silence! The emergence of new Sorceresses is a matter of great importance. I have already reported this to the three Sorceress elders.

However, whether you are a Sorceress or a witch, at the Witch Academy you have only one identity — student — and only one task — to learn.

I hope you will all cherish these next five years, learn how to study independently, and master the ability to survive on your own.

These five years will be your only period of free instruction.

After five years, regardless of your academic achievements, you will leave the Academy and begin your own lives.”

These words were something Amisha said every year at the enrollment ceremony.

Mo Lan herself was brimming with eagerness to learn. She had already steeled herself mentally, and deeply resonated with this message.

But she noticed that the other students also took Lady Amisha’s advice very seriously, completely unlike the indifference of students in her previous life listening to their teachers deliver motivational platitudes.

The first-year little witches had arrived full of longing for academy life and curiosity about magic — that much, Mo Lan could understand.

But could the upper-year little witches, having already witnessed the wonders of magic, truly overcome the natural playfulness of youth and settle down to study?

Even adults who understood how hard life could be were prone to slacking off, let alone these young witches.

Could the Witch Academy really, in just five years, take naive and sheltered little witches and mold them into fully capable, independent adult witches?