Chapter 557: Victory Fruit

"Magic mirror, magic mirror, who is the legendary witch whose fame echoes throughout the entire academy, whose talent dazzles all her peers, and who, like the sun, is rising irresistibly?"

"The answer is only one: it's me, Dorothy."

At the top floor of the Shining Tower in the center of the Witch Academy, the home witch gazed at her divine face in the mirror—beautiful enough to enchant all things—then her eyes grew hazy, her heartbeat quickened, and her breathing grew slightly heavier.

But before she slipped further into indulgence, she skillfully averted her gaze, snapped her fingers, and transformed herself into the look of a black-skinned, colorful-haired tomboy.

Hmm, from today on, she could finally return to her normal student life—time to go back to class properly.

Although strictly speaking, she had merely slept and dreamed, that dream was so long that when she looked again at her black-skinned tomboy reflection, it felt like she hadn't seen it in ages, as if from another lifetime.

"Wake up, Dorothy, the Witch Night is over. You're no longer the exalted sister of the God-King or the Prime Minister of a nation—you're just an ordinary first-year student. Go find your teacher and learn some bricklaying skills properly."

She lightly patted her cheeks, thinking to herself.

Yet when she turned her gaze away from the vanity mirror and looked out toward the balcony, she couldn't help but sigh.

"Have I really woken up? Or am I still inside the Witch Night?"

The home witch stepped onto her balcony, raised her head, and stared at the four suns in the sky—three large, one small—and still couldn't tell reality from dream.

Dorothy reached out toward the tiny sun nestled in the center, surrounded by three great suns, and a strange sensation rose within her heart.

Hmm, as if she could make that small sun move at her will, if she only chose to.

So the home witch clenched her hand toward the sun, then drew it back; when she opened her palm again, it now held a wisp of sunlight, flickering like flame.

"Damn it, how did I suddenly become so extraordinary?"

She waved her hand, dispersing the sunfire, and her tomboy face wrinkled in frustration.

Of course—it wasn't an illusion after all. That feeling of controlling the sun was real.

After all, she knew that slightly smaller sun too well.

How could she not? That sun was one she had personally forged, grain by grain.

But how could a sun from the Witch Night appear in reality? Things from dreams shouldn't become real.

"Sister Fan, is this your new prank? That little sun up there—is it really you?"

Dorothy removed her witch hat and asked the hat, visible only to her.

As everyone knows, the witch world has no true sun—or rather, the Witch King is the sun that illuminates all. If one day a fourth sun suddenly appeared in the witch world, it could only mean the Fourth King had ascended.

Brilliant idea. If I could, I'd love to try it myself. But unfortunately, Qian Bao, it's not me. You know me—if it were, that sun up there would have at least one eye, and its light would be tentacle-shaped.

On the brim of the wide witch hat, eyes formed from stars opened, and a sinister mouth on the hat's tip opened and closed, uttering these innocent words.

"Then I must still be dreaming. Hmph. Double dream—dream within a dream. I thought I'd woken up, but I'm still asleep. Same old trick. Won't fool me."

The home witch wore her classic "the truth is only one" expression, speaking with absolute certainty.

She'd watched Inception and countless other works with similar setups—this old trick couldn't possibly deceive her.

Yet the witch hat in her hand extended a cute little tentacle and brushed her forehead.

Qian Bao, you're probably just exhausted. Why not sleep a little longer? As the Master of Dreams, I can assure you—you're not dreaming. Accept reality.

The home witch, her self-deception ruthlessly exposed, angrily swatted away the tentacle, re-adjusted her hat, and sighed.

"Tch. I'd had a vague premonition before, but now I'm definitely caught up in something terrible. I just wanted a quiet, peaceful daily life—why is that so hard?"

The home witch remembered her beloved older sister from the dream.

Aside from the near-omniscient God-King, she couldn't imagine anyone else powerful enough to truly add a sun to the sky.

"The overlap of dream and reality—could this truly rewrite history? That shouldn't be possible. Once history is altered, the present becomes a castle in the air—it cannot endure. It will inevitably collapse and evolve into a future aligned with the rewritten history."

Dorothy rubbed her chin, puzzled how this was even possible.

It's like an apple tree should only bear apples—yet now the apple tree has been replaced by a pear tree. How could it possibly grow the exact same apples again?

Yet this strange thing had happened anyway.

Dorothy reached out, and her long-absent spellbook instantly appeared in her hand. She skillfully linked to the Magic Web and logged onto the campus forum.

"Damn, why did a sun suddenly appear in the sky after I woke up? And why does that sun look familiar?"

"Familiar? Of course it's familiar—it's the sun the Prime Minister just hand-crafted in her dream."

"Prime Minister? Oh, you mean the Young Lady?"

"Yeah, exactly the Young Lady. Don't know what happened, but the Young Lady is definitely awesome."

"Sheng Zai… strike the holy hammer thrice, mechanical ascension, praise the Lord of Machines. I'm switching to Mechanical Studies to become a mechanical cultivator—anyone know which department has the best mechanical program?"

"Brother in faith, I'm also fully committing to the Mechanical Faith. Last night I scoured every department in the academy and found a surprisingly good option—have you heard of the Automated Mechanical Civil Engineering major?"

"Wait, doesn't anyone care that the President was on the angel side?"

With a snap, the home witch closed her spellbook with a blank expression—she couldn't laugh.

This was ridiculous. If dreams truly became reality and history was rewritten, then four suns in the sky should be common knowledge—not something people were shocked about.

But reality was this: the witch world remained unchanged, the same as before. The only anomaly was that single extra sun in the sky.

Damn it, they were roasting her alive on a grill. She never wanted fame—her reputation had been confined to the Witch Academy. But now, with a sun in the sky, the entire witch world had noticed. She'd soon be famous across the whole world.

Dorothy truly didn't want fame.

Well, if she could actually live up to that fame, she wouldn't mind having a little notoriety—but the problem was…

Feeling the pitiful 40,000 mana of magic within her, the home witch sighed.

Great fame without matching power isn't a blessing—it's a disaster.

But life is like that—if you can't resist, you might as well enjoy it. Dorothy was still a coward, too timid to summon her dream sister in this reality and demand answers.

In reality, there was no Miss Shepherdess—only the Supreme God-King.

How could a lowly witch student dare question the Great Witch King?

So she'd endure it. After all, it was the Young Lady who became famous—what did that have to do with Dorothy, the civil engineering witch?

Dorothy was grateful for her many disguises—otherwise, life would be unbearable.

"Forget it. Whatever. Time to make breakfast."

The home witch checked the time—she was nearly late for class. She hurriedly opened her door and prepared to cook.

But as soon as she stepped into the living room, she saw a figure already bustling in the kitchen.

"Sophiliah? What's going on?"

When she saw her roommate's outfit, Dorothy's earlier worries about sudden fame vanished—she perked up instantly.

Now this was interesting.

The normally aloof, revered Student Council President wasn't wearing her standard uniform robe. Instead, the pure-white witch now wore a black-and-white maid outfit.

Of course, maids still existed in the witch world—and they were fairly common. After all, witches were born nobles, gods in the eyes of mortals. Would you expect a god to wash clothes and cook?

Obviously, that wasn't realistic.

Witches like Dorothy, who preferred to do things themselves, were rare. Most witch families maintained full staffs of butlers, stewards, and maids.

Low-grade familiars were usually hired—they cost little. Even wealthier witch families didn't settle for human servants; they employed witches or members of the other three Golden Races as household staff.

Though witches theoretically valued equality, ordinary witches still needed to eat, live, and earn money—resources don't fall from the sky.

Even the poorest witch lived a noble life mortals could only dream of—but witches never compared themselves to mortals. They compared only with each other, and the gap between rich and poor witches was terrifyingly vast.

For example, Dorothy, a small witch, struggled to save enough to buy a tiny sky island as a home, while Mia, heir to a top witch family, spent her allowance in multiples of worlds.

The gap between witches might be greater than the gap between a dog and a witch.

Under such extreme disparity, ordinary witches working for witch families was perfectly normal—who wouldn't take the generous pay?

Where there are people, there are cliques, there are classes—even witches aren't exempt. They still have human nature.

But Sophiliah—this maid outfit—is this really what a proper maid should wear? This maid is very suspicious.

Dorothy blinked furiously, mentally standing on a moral high ground and pointing accusingly.

Tsk tsk—this extensive cutout, this backless design—does fabric cost so much?

Oh my… look at those lace flowers on waist and chest—so clever. Isn't the point to draw attention right there? So seductive.

Hss… these white stockings, this tight fit… are you even an angel? You understand seduction better than the succubi downstairs.

Damn it, no wonder this Saint Angel Maid outfit has ranked in the top three on the Pink Forum's uniform popularity list for years—the designer is a genius. And now it's worn by a real Saint Angel. Thinking of that makes me even more… Pei, more heartbroken. I'm almost crying from rage.

Sophiliah, Sophiliah—I thought you, as Student Council President, wouldn't know anything about this. Who knew you were so well-versed? The more noble, pure, and cold a person appears, the more they hide their hidden lust. Just how many of these lessons have you secretly studied?

In mere seconds, Dorothy's eyes were nearly blurring from blinking, and her memory palace held entire shelves of these beautiful—no, sinful—evidences.

"Looks good?"

Sophiliah, who had been preparing breakfast, heard the noise, turned, glanced at her Young Lady, then stretched languidly—making the lewd witch's eyes nearly pop out—and smiled.

"Beautiful. Amazing."

Dorothy instinctively gave a thumbs-up.

Then she saw Sophiliah's gaze turn cold—like she was looking at trash.

The home witch's heart screamed danger.

Fuck, this is entrapment. Who can withstand this test? Anyone who can is no longer a decent person. If you don't love lewdness, you must be some kind of legendary monster.

But just as Dorothy prepared to seriously refute, the pure-white witch suddenly walked over with the breakfast.

Even in that scandalous, inappropriate maid outfit, Sophiliah moved with perfect composure, utterly unashamed—as if a queen in full regalia were approaching her coronation throne, radiating sacred, untouchable dignity.

"Fine. My master, whose mind is full of bestial desire, may freely enjoy your victory fruit. Will you eat this breakfast… or…"

"Me."

"Don't misunderstand. I still feel nothing for you. This is merely a maid's duty to relieve her unsatisfied master's stress—nothing more. Otherwise, if your bestial desire flared and you attacked someone else, that would be my failure."

"What? Do you think my attitude is poor? Don't get too greedy, Master."

The pure-white angel remained as immaculate as an untainted white lotus. Her golden eyes were filled with disdain—but her body moved forward, eager and honest.

As their gazes met, Dorothy clearly saw the faint, pleased curve of the other's lips—yet her eyes remained cold, as if looking at trash.

Fuck, this damn angel is seriously skilled. She's the real succubus.

Dorothy thought to herself.

But even if she knew all of this was the wicked woman's act, a blatant seduction, did it matter? Clearly, it did not.

This trap was simply impossible for her to refuse.

Fairy King, why are you just standing there watching? Don't pretend to be dead—come and save me! A female fairy is making advances on me!

.... The homemaker witch is calling for help....