Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

The dimly lit stage, draped in overlapping dark curtains, created a shadowy ambiance. The only beam of light illuminated a lone girl.

Cyril stood among the new students below the stage, gazing at the girl who had stepped onto the podium. He didn’t recognize her—the black-haired, blue-eyed girl. That was rather strange because Edess Academy was unlike ordinary institutions. To be chosen to represent the incoming students as a speaker, one needed either remarkable achievements that commanded respect or a privileged background that was hard to contest.

However, such students typically had some degree of fame before entering the academy. While the academy itself was vast, its upper echelons were composed of a select few. Having lived in the southern district all his life, Cyril found it improbable that he wouldn’t have at least heard her name.

How peculiar, he thought, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t particularly care, but others likely wouldn’t think the same way. For a student with no discernible background to suddenly represent everyone, resentment was inevitable.

Sure enough, he could already hear murmurs of discontent from his peers. At the cusp of adolescence, many students—especially those raised in privilege—were headstrong and unwilling to yield to others.

Cyril, however, paid no mind to such things. Having endured many experiences alien to his peers, he had learned to let go of trivial concerns.

As he began pondering post-ceremony lunch plans with friends and his return to work in the afternoon, the girl on stage concluded her bow and started her speech.

The opening adhered to the usual format: a self-introduction, expressions of gratitude, and the customary wishes for the new students.

“Entering Edess Academy was something I hadn’t anticipated. Looking back, I am deeply grateful to the school for granting me this opportunity.”

…

“Every student here has their own thoughts and aspirations. For me to speak on behalf of everyone may make some uncomfortable, as their inner voices remain unheard…” However, the girl’s speech quickly diverged from convention.

“In my brief 16 years of life, I’ve witnessed countless clashing ideologies and beliefs thriving both online and in reality. People pursue their own paths, and while we respect freedom of thought, this kaleidoscope of a world often leaves us overwhelmed.”

“Respect, meant to protect individual liberty, has been weaponized by certain parties to secure their own interests. Society has been fragmented, split into countless small factions.”

“With power dispersed and unity lost, people cling to narrow self-interests, unwilling to let go. They attack one another, exhausted by the constant anxieties brought on by endless concepts and debates…”

“Momentary joy may arise, but as time passes, it often gives way to unease, for that joy and one’s way of life are not widely accepted. People will deny you, slander you, and leave you at a loss.”

“The poor are mocked for their perceived lack of effort, as if their hardships are deserved. The wealthy are vilified, seen as having amassed their fortune through exploitation, making animosity and defamation commonplace.”

“The impoverished find no respect, forced to endure silently, while the affluent must live discreetly, lest any display of luxury invite criticism and doubt.”

“I believe everyone desires prosperity. Yet even when one achieves it, they must remain hidden, for resentment between social classes has accumulated over time.”

“Society feels fragmented. Unity—working together through hardships—seems like a distant relic of the past.”

“What, then, has made us so disjointed? Is it sheer survival?”

“No. Even in the poorest corners of the Federation, starvation is rare. Industrialized starches and proteins are abundant. Compared to the primitive Third Epoch or the chaotic ruins of the Fifth Epoch’s end, we’ve made significant progress.”

“I suspect we’ve fallen into an inevitable trap of civilization: judging life solely by wealth.”

“Can the value of a life truly be measured by money alone? If so, it is an overly simplistic and tragic perspective. It’s like stopping at a roadside stone in a vast forest, abandoning the journey to see the animals, trees, and vibrant flowers deeper within.”

“Wealth, or currency, was meant to be a tool of societal division of labor, allowing us to focus on one thing while meeting our needs. Yet this tool has gradually become a shackle for most people.”

“In the past, the weaver, carpenter, and fisherman were interconnected. Each had a skill and traded their crafts with others. They knew their place and felt secure, assured of their value within the community.”

“But now, markets and logistics are so advanced that you can obtain anything without knowing anyone. Flowers once picked from distant mountains to express love can now be bought for 20 Federation credits. Passionate love letters once written by hand are now churned out by AI, thousands per minute, all unique.”

“While convenience has increased, everything is measured in monetary terms. Acts of love and sincerity are often mistaken as mere purchases.”

“A handcrafted doll pales before the perfection of a machine-made one. A carefully planned confession is overshadowed by a professional company’s setup. Genuine effort is reduced to a spectacle, with many steps replaced by AI and hired services.”

“Money can buy anything, yet trust between people dwindles. Deception has become so easy that even genuine acts struggle to be believed.”

“The criteria for evaluating things have become overly singular: How much money can you make? How expensive is your gift? How much is your sentiment worth?”

“When a person falls from a great height and clings to a single rope, they will inevitably worry about its strength. But with multiple ropes, or a net of many strands, they would feel secure, even if one fails.”

“With a singular standard in reality, that rope becomes the sole thread: wealth, money, and price—an insurmountable barrier.”

“The poor need money to survive, the middle class to maintain respectability, and the wealthy to preserve their legacy. Everyone desires more wealth, ridden with anxiety.”

“We’ve mocked the restrictive moral codes and shared honors of the past, dismissing inherited beliefs as outdated. We’ve embraced the notion of ‘survival of the fittest,’ justifying cruelty under the guise of natural order, excusing unjust actions.”

“Many have fought and died for honor and faith, but how many willingly die for money alone? Even those who do often do so to provide for loved ones—another form of honor and belief.”

“Money can solve many surface-level problems, but the relationships it fosters are fragile and anxiety-inducing.”

“Society and nations need new standards of evaluation. People need new guidelines to calm restless hearts, bridge social divides, and rebuild foundational bonds.”

“This is my vision for the future, my hope for what lies ahead. It may be naive and incomplete, but I sincerely wish to take steps toward its realization.”

Even years later, Cyril would often recall that opening ceremony at Edess Academy. He remembered the black-haired, blue-eyed girl, her voice so gentle yet resolute—serene yet unyielding.

Perhaps it was on that day that he decided to follow that figure, embarking on a path to change it all.