Chapter 3: Youthful Ambition

Flying brooms, the most common means of transportation for the world’s transcendent beings, hold the same status as bicycles or electric scooters in Dorothy’s previous life—nearly everyone owns one.

Cheap, practical, cost-effective, easy to learn; with just a bit of magic and a simple flying incantation, you can instantly launch off the ground.

The flying incantation, a low-level spell, is taught in elementary schools at magical academies across the world, one of the most common introductory spells for wizards.

Although Dorothy never met the entrance standards of the Witch Academy, she graduated early from a regular wizard academy—with honors, scholarships pouring in, a top scholar among scholars—and of course she knew this basic spell.

She sat properly on the broom’s handle, her long, rounded legs tightly clasping the wooden shaft, hands gripping firm to maintain balance, then gently released a thread of magic into the flying incantation array embedded within the broom.

“Wuhu...”

Chanting her personal takeoff incantation, the previously limp broom beneath her surged with power, and her feet, once planted on the ground, lifted slightly.

The girl was now floating in midair.

Since ancient times, humanity’s longing for the sky has never faded; in her previous world, people exhausted every means to conquer the sky, yet it remained distant to ordinary folk—even with airplanes widespread, many never boarded one in their lifetime.

But now, in this world, people could effortlessly conquer the sky and fly freely using only their own power.

No matter how many times she had flown, Dorothy always felt that same sense of wonder; she smiled and gently urged the broom forward.

Though she was not the type to speed—her gentle nature made her move slowly, even in flight; her speed was slower than the old woman who had just passed by, until a blur shot past her with a whoosh.

“Sis, you’re so slow.”

Alice, who had launched off like a rocket, felt even more exhausted seeing her sister float along at the legal speed limit like a middle-aged man; her sister was sixteen, a girl in her prime, yet Alice often felt an old man lived inside her.

Oh oh oh, now her sister was pulling out her goji berry tea thermos—this made her even more middle-aged! And wasn’t that the health regimen favored by the immortals of the East? Why is my sister so good at it?

“Flying improperly brings tears to your family’s eyes, sister—you’re the one who should slow down. My toddler-level broom can’t go any faster; this is already top speed.”

Once the flying incantation activated, invisible magic firmly bound rider and broom together; there was no need to grip the handle tightly anymore. Dorothy calmly pulled her beloved thermos from her side bag, sipped the hot tea, and wore a blissful expression.

She glanced ahead at her sister, who sat sideways on her latest-model Wing 6000 Terminator Edition broom; though this posture violated flight regulations, it was the most common stance among female wizards and witches, since girls loved wearing pretty skirts—unlike Dorothy, who wore pants daily, a true tomboy.

“You need a new broom. Let’s buy one today. Isn’t this the kid’s model you bought when you were little? It’s been years—how have you endured not replacing it? And how hasn’t your witch-level magic blown it apart?”

Alice rolled her eyes ahead.

“I don’t go out often—this one’s fine. But yeah, I guess I really should replace it.”

Dorothy gently stroked the old broom that had accompanied her so many years, feeling a faint pang of reluctance.

But as her sister said, this child’s beginner broom was truly inadequate now; starting tomorrow, when she entered the Witch Academy, she’d need to travel frequently—a reliable flying broom was essential.

And this old companion was too fragile, barely able to withstand her current witch-level magic—like a child’s plastic sword snapping under an adult’s swing. Fortunately, she had a slight innate talent for precision magic control, or this broom would’ve broken long ago.

“Then you pick one for me later—I don’t know which brands are good now.”

Dorothy nodded, saying so.

“Sure, sis—I’ll pick you the latest model, guaranteed fast and stable.”

Alice nodded eagerly; her own high-end broom proved she knew her stuff—she was a regular in broom racing competitions. Now that her old-fashioned sister was finally ready to ditch her ancient broom, Alice began plotting how to convince her to embrace the thrill of broom racing.

“Yeah yeah, but don’t get anything too expensive—we’ve got a tight budget, can’t afford your pro-racing models.”

Knowing her sister’s nature, Dorothy saw right through her plan.

The sisters chatted as they flew toward the vast floating metropolis ahead.

Witches, the ruling race of this world, born nobility, naturally lived in conditions unlike any other; they usually resided in the sky.

Floating islands were the most common housing structure for witches—these skyborne landmasses, formed from levitation stones, were once rare, but after witches uncovered their secrets and learned to synthesize them artificially, such once-precious materials became commonplace, now a standard building material not just for witches but also for wealthy non-human spellcasters.

After all, the trends set by the ruling witches became the fashion for all other races.

Dorothy’s current home was a typical witch floating island, purchased by her white-rich-beauty stepmother as a wedding gift for her pretty-boy husband.

A standard small floating island, internally expanded with spatial technology; from outside, it appeared as a tiny island under a thousand square meters, yet inside, its space rivaled a giant human estate—complete with living quarters, cultivation zones, livestock areas, research labs, and other essential modules, all standard for modern witch households.

Each floating island was essentially a high-end version of a wizard’s tower for other races, save for being a bit expensive.

“Tch, even in another world I’m still a mortgage slave—exhausting.”

Following witch tradition, young witches leave their parents’ home upon adulthood to establish their own. Dorothy was already sixteen, her birthday just days away; once she turned eighteen, she’d have to move out and fend for herself—buying her own floating island would be mandatory. The thought of its astronomical price made her weary.

Fortunately, she still needed to attend the Witch Academy, so she could live in dorms for at least twenty years—plenty of time to ease the pressure, save up, and aim to buy a home right after graduation, becoming a life winner.

Plus, over the years, her stepmother’s monthly allowance plus her wizard academy scholarships had added up; Dorothy had saved a decent sum, making her a minor millionaire among peers—though still a universe’s distance short of her ultimate goal.

“Tch, whenever I think of this, I envy my cheap dad—he can live off his looks and do whatever he wants.”

Thinking of her human father, a professional gold-digger, Dorothy felt a surge of respect.

But now she was her own girlfriend; as a pure love warrior, she absolutely wouldn’t tolerate being cheated on—even if the other party was a same-sex witch...

Hmm, not easily. I’m not that kind of person. I’m not a gold digger. I’ll climb to the peak of life through my own effort and struggle. I won’t live off rich women’s money.

Dorothy silently resolved in her heart. To solidify this belief, she fixed her gaze on the massive floating island drawing nearer ahead.

“A true witch must be like this. One day, I’ll establish my own witch coven and build a floating city even grander than this.”

The young half-witch made this vow in her heart.

A great witch must be this way. One day, I shall replace her.

“Sis, what are you daydreaming about? Hurry up! If you keep dawdling, we won’t make it home for dinner!”

Alice’s shout shattered Dorothy’s grand ambitions.

“Coming, coming! I’m already at top speed!”

The young half-witch sighed and pushed her old companion harder to catch up.