Chapter 641 – The Little Witch Who Grew on a Tree

Ever since Tiana was plucked from the tree and transformed alongside Flora into roly-poly little egg babies, the entire plantation had become their favorite playground.

When the morning dew still clung to the tips of the grass, you could already see them tumbling out of Sylph’s little wooden cabin, rolling all the way into the woods.

Only when the sun sank below the western hills would they leisurely roll out from some unknown corner, their eggshells dyed in a riot of colors from grass juice, pollen, and dirt, and roll into the pond for a bath.

If on any given day the two egg babies came trundling back to the cabin before the sunset had fully dipped below the horizon, Sylph didn’t even need to use mind-reading magic to know what they were thinking—one look at the way they bounced impatiently on the porch steps told her everything: “Hungry, hungry, hungry!”

These two were completely feral now—unless they were starving, you wouldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of their egg-shaped shadows.

Fortunately, every plant in the plantation could tip Sylph off, otherwise when it came time to infuse them with mana, she’d never be able to find where those two had run off to play.

The sweltering heat of midsummer gradually faded, the shimmering heat waves over the plantation slowly receded, and the morning breeze began to carry a thread of coolness, blowing the edges of the copper maple leaves to a faint yellow.

Flora and Tiana had recently become obsessed with bathing in the morning dew.

At the crack of dawn, two white eggs would be tumbling across the grass, their shells glistening wet, covered in dewdrops.

Before long, their rolling turned into a two-egg chase.

Flora rolled ahead like a little whirlwind, with Tiana doing her best to keep up behind her.

The snails on the grass were so frightened they retreated into their shells, thinking they’d encountered some kind of strange white meteorites.

Suddenly, a soft “crack” came from Flora’s eggshell.

A fracture appeared on the shell.

Flora couldn’t brake in time, and as she kept tumbling, the crack spread rapidly and the shell shattered.

Then a soft, pale little bundle of flesh came rolling out, sprawling face-down on the grass in a full-body faceplant.

A head of dark green curls exploded outward like a clump of seaweed battered by a storm, with a few glittering shell fragments still dangling from the tips.

Tiana’s egg screeched to a halt, skidding a half-circle across the damp grass.

She stared blankly at the scattered shell fragments before her, her snow-white egg body trembling slightly.

Flora flailed her chubby little hands in a panic, trying to roll over to her sister the way she used to, only to find that her soft, wobbly legs refused to cooperate.

Her little face turned beet red as she squirmed like a beached baby seal, until finally all she could manage was a wobbly, milk-voiced “Waaah—”

Tiana’s egg jolted, and she finally noticed the wriggling pink bundle in front of the broken shell.

She carefully circled around this little creature, the top of her eggshell tilting slightly as if she were studying it closely.

Then, as if a light bulb went off, she spun around and went rolling at full speed toward Mo Lan’s cabin, her shell leaving a bright silver trail of dew in the morning light.

“Thud! Thud!” The frantic impacts shattered the morning calm—the white egg nearly dented the courtyard gate.

When Mo Lan hurriedly opened the door, she saw Tiana’s eggshell rocking anxiously from side to side.

A glow of mind-reading magic lit up at her fingertip, and she heard Tiana screaming inside her mind: “Purple Auntie! Big sister! Broken!”

“Something happened to Flora?” Mo Lan’s heart clenched. “Where?”

Tiana immediately went rolling back the way she came, moving so fast she nearly skidded out on the turn.

Mo Lan chased after her while casting Wind Whisper, sending messages carried by Wind Elemental Magic flying in different directions to find Sylph, Vasida, and Lilith.

When Mo Lan arrived, she found a baby girl covered in grass clippings and egg fluid, lying pitifully on the grass.

The resonance of bloodline told her this was a newborn little witch.

Her tiny face was scrunched red with effort, her chubby arms slapping uselessly at the ground—clearly trying to roll over but unable to muster the strength.

Not far away, sunlight fell upon the heap of shattered eggshell, refracting into rainbow-colored halos.

What was there left for Mo Lan not to understand?

She closed the distance in three quick strides and gently lifted the little bundle into her arms.

As the silver light of a Cleaning spell flashed over her, Flora’s true appearance was finally revealed—an exquisitely delicate little thing, her damp dark-green curls plastered to her forehead, her grape-purple eyes still brimming with aggrieved tears.

Tiana’s egg inched over cautiously and nuzzled gently against her big sister’s tiny foot, as if confirming that this soft little creature really was the same egg baby she used to play with.

That was when Sylph arrived.

Sylph’s robes still carried the morning dew kicked up from her hurried journey, Vasida still had breadcrumbs at the corners of her mouth, and Lilith’s red hair was a mess that looked like a ball of burning flame—clearly they had all rushed over the moment they got the message.

“Mo Lan! What happened to Flora?”

Sylph’s voice was trembling. Her emerald eyes swept urgently across the grass, then froze on the squirming little bundle in the crook of Mo Lan’s arm.

The baby had a head of dark green curls, with a few rebellious little cowlicks sticking up at the tips—the exact same hair color as her own. Only Sylph’s long hair fell in a smooth cascade, while this little one’s looked like seaweed tossed about by a storm.

An incredible thought struck her: “Is this…”

“That’s right, this is Flora.” Mo Lan gave a helpless smile and tapped the dew-covered shell fragments on the ground with the tip of her foot. “Tiana came barreling over to find me just now, saying her big sister had broken. But when I got here, our little troublemaker had already finished hatching.”

“Flora hatched?” Vasida lunged forward in one stride, nearly tripping over her own skirt hem. She stared wide-eyed at the chubby little hand that was trying to grab Mo Lan’s hair. “She’s really a witch! A real witch actually grew from a fruit on a tree!”

Her voice went up several pitches with excitement.

Lilith moved closer without a word, the glow of psychic power lighting up at her fingertip.

Suddenly her expression froze in a peculiar look, because the only thing flooding into her mind was the same thought repeated over and over.

“Roll!”

“I wanna roll!”

Paired with the sight of the little one kicking her legs and waving her arms for all she was worth in Mo Lan’s embrace, she looked exactly like a flipped-over baby turtle struggling to right itself.

Several veins popped on Lilith’s temple. “Flora, you’re not an egg anymore—you can’t roll! Now lie down in a crib like a good girl!”

She even redeemed a nature-themed baby crib from the Card Shop on the spot.

The moment she finished speaking, little Flora burst into tears with a loud “Waaah,” big crystalline teardrops tumbling down one after another.

She was clearly deeply indignant about her sudden loss of rolling ability.

Sylph took the inconsolable little Flora into her arms and cradled her gently. “There, there. Once you grow up a little more, you’ll be able to walk and run—that’s much more convenient than rolling.”