Chapter 95: Leisurely Breakfast Time

“Magic mirror, magic mirror, in the Witch Academy there is a witch of unparalleled beauty, surpassing all others, whose astonishing talent shames the learned and whose uncoronated power compels the strongest to kneel—who is she?”

“Hmm, yes, of course it’s me, Dorothy.”

The next morning, in the highest chamber of the Tower of Radiance, the young witch, just awakened, began her daily ritual before the mirror.

In the vanity mirror before her reflected a beautiful woman with a sickly pallor, her furrowed brows exuding fragility that melted the heart.

Unfortunately, the next second, the woman lifted her brow, her face brimming with self-satisfaction.

“Ah, no wonder I’m the one—this pitiable little face even makes me fall for myself. Lin Daiyu would rage so hard she’d uproot willows by her hair!”

The two beauties in the mirror each gave the other a thumbs-up, as if reaching a mutual agreement.

Yet after a brief surge of excitement, Dorothy sank back into listlessness.

It wasn’t illness—witches, by nature, rarely suffered from colds or fevers unless cursed, and as a Dragon Witch, she could outright ignore most curses thanks to her dragon’s magic resistance.

This sickly appearance was merely a side effect of excessive mana depletion, though not severe; once her mana replenished and she rested a day or two, she’d be back to full strength… a woman?

Never mind, it’s more or less the same thing.

Dorothy, too lazy to stir her still foggy mind, mustered the energy to cast a spell to change her clothes and freshen up, then lay like a salted fish, enjoying the spell’s ministrations.

When everything was ready, she reluctantly rose—but too lazy to walk—so she snapped open her Dragon Wings and, using their innate conceptual flight ability, floated like a ghost toward the living room.

“Ah, my wings.”

As she passed through the door, her wings—spanning four to five meters—slammed into the doorframe, striking near the base, as if kicked in the pinky toe. Dorothy instantly retracted her wings and rolled on the floor, howling in pain.

“Damn it, what kind of shoddy construction is this? These are Dragon Wings! Shouldn’t the doorframe have broken?”

Dorothy fumed.

Yet…

“Miss, before you demolish the house, remember this is the Tower of Radiance—a wonder of architecture. The doorframe isn’t expensive. Your earnings from yesterday should barely cover the cost.”

Sophilia’s exquisite, holy face appeared in Dorothy’s line of sight as she lay sprawled on the floor. The angelic witch gazed helplessly at her eccentric mistress, then said:

“It’s time to eat. Since the person who’s supposed to cook has been lying dead all morning, we’ll make do today.”

“Oh, coming, coming!”

At the word “eat,” Dorothy’s pain vanished instantly. Her formidable Dragon Witch healing surged—she leapt up energized, scurried to the table, shoved the napkin into her collar, and raised her knife and fork.

“What’s for breakfast?”

Severely depleted of mana, she felt she could swallow an entire sub-dragon whole—her body craved high-mana delicacies.

“Bull Dragon milk, and fried Thief-Egg Dragon eggs.”

From the kitchen, Sophilia floated two trays with her Mage Hand—two simple, unadorned breakfasts.

“That’s it…?”

Dorothy’s face visibly collapsed. The vibrant girl moments before became frail and pitiful again.

“That’s all, Miss. When mana is low, avoid gorging. This crude method of replenishment may feel satisfying, but it harms a witch’s body. Remember this well. If you’re truly starving, drink more Dragon milk—it holds ample mana, gentler and more easily absorbed than meat.”

The angelic witch slammed a large barrel of fresh Dragon milk onto the table.

Dorothy: “...”

Fine.

With obvious reluctance, she lifted her milk cup and drained it in one gulp.

She never liked dairy—back in her past life, she avoided milk—and now, as she drank, she scrunched her face like a child.

She resolved to update her “Witch’s Magical Kitchen” recipe collection soon—this time, she’d add a section for mana-replenishing dishes. Sophilia’s high-end ingredients had too harsh a mana profile; that could be fixed with proper cooking.

Hmph, this angel’s terrible. If she can’t properly refine mana from ingredients, just say so instead of dancing around it.

But…

“Oh wow, this is actually delicious.”

The moment it touched her tongue, Dorothy’s eyes lit up. The Bull Dragon milk was unexpectedly sweet—no fishy aftertaste, only rich creaminess blended with floral herbal notes, refreshingly smooth.

And the mana within was abundant—gentle enough for even hatchlings to absorb—reviving her body with the bliss of rain after a drought.

Now, try the Thief-Egg Dragon egg. Wait—is this egg the dragon’s own, or one it stole?

Whatever. I’m eating it.

She took another bite—her eyes closed in bliss.

Wow, what divine texture! It was fried egg, yet tasted like jelly—bouncy, silky, no eggy stink, only savory meat aroma.

Brilliant, brilliant! Sorry, Sophilia—I apologize for underestimating you. Your cooking really is excellent.

...Hunger-driven witch devours voraciously...

Across from Dorothy, Sophilia felt guilty.

Truthfully, after growing accustomed to her mistress’s cooking, she could no longer stomach her own mediocre dishes. Today’s meager breakfast was simply because only these two ingredients were available—no complex prep needed, as they were already perfect.

The Bull Dragon and Thief-Egg Dragon came from a culinary world—a realm the Witch Queen had once conquered. That world, from afar, looked like a giant cake—and indeed, the entire world was edible: every blade of grass, tree, even the soil, was exquisite cuisine.

Then…

Then the capricious Dragon King took a bite.

The world was discovered during the Dragon King’s reign. It was unexpectedly powerful; several peak witches had struggled for years to subdue it. Eventually, the Dragon King herself intervened—her Majesty personally led the campaign.

Upon seeing the world, the Dragon King’s eyes gleamed. She immediately declared she wanted to take a bite. Her attendant peak witches frantically pleaded against it—this world-sized world-destroying dragon taking a single bite would erase the entire realm, rendering their efforts useless.

But the capricious Dragon King bit anyway. Fortunately, she’d apparently not been hungry that day—the culinary world barely escaped, only a tiny notch bitten from its edge, the toothmarks clearly visible.

That bite nearly consumed the world’s defenders too. Terrified, they surrendered instantly, pledging to become the witches’ dogs and offer their finest cuisine.

Since the Dragon King claimed it, the culinary world belonged to the Dragon Kingdom. To avoid overharvesting, its output was strictly limited—far less than demand. Luckily, her teacher, as a newly appointed Prince, held considerable influence and secured generous annual quotas.

The world’s produce had been her teacher’s favorite. Even Sophilia, her most beloved disciple, could only occasionally steal a taste. But now…

Thinking of the space-folded fridge at home, nearly bursting with reserves, Sophilia suddenly found her milk unpalatable.

What garbage milk—tart? Must be expired.

...Angel witch turns to lemon...