Miss Witch Doesn't Want to Become a Songstress-Chapter 264

“This is Verdant Veil Spaceport No. 2. Between 11:12 and 11:40, the port will be under temporary control. All ship and shuttle departures and arrivals will be suspended. Passengers are advised to rest and wait patiently.”

Walking on the silver metallic floor, Thilan couldn’t help but look around. It was her first time leaving the planet below and stepping into space.

There were a total of three spaceports orbiting Verdant Veil. The third was typically kept on standby for backup or rotation. She was currently at the busiest—Spaceport No. 2. Through the towering floor-to-ceiling windows not far away, one could see the distant starry sky and numerous ships launching or docking nearby.

“Is this your first time, Thilan?” asked one of the accompanying priestesses with a warm smile, guiding and protecting her.

“Yes, it’s my first time.”

“No wonder. The first time I entered space, I was about seven. I remember clinging to the window, unwilling to move, staring down at the massive, deep-blue planet below. That sight was unforgettable—truly awe-inspiring.”

She held a silver staff in one hand and brushed a strand of hair aside with the other as she recalled the memory.

“You went to space at seven? Wasn’t that dangerous?”

Thilan remembered her textbooks mentioning that hyperspace travel places great strain on the body—at least Sequence 2 or higher was needed to withstand it.

“Not quite. That trip was within a star region, so it was relatively gentle.”

“There were two habitable planets within the star region I grew up in,” she explained.

“Since they were close to each other, people could travel between them by spaceship.”

As they chatted, six fully armed soldiers approached with brisk steps. They came to a halt, and the squad leader stepped forward to report.

“The docking bay has been secured. Boarding is now ready. Please follow me.”

“Then let’s depart, Thilan.”

The priestess nodded at her. Four women surrounded Thilan protectively, while the soldiers led and followed, escorting them through the newly opened boarding corridor.

Standing on the magnetic floor, the group was carried forward by the track system through a long corridor. This corridor extended from the spaceport, and through the transparent metal-glass walls on either side, Thilan could see the medium-sized starship docked outside—its elongated hull glowing with soft white lights, shaped like folded wings, exuding a sacred and elegant beauty.

It was a Lightwing-class special starship. Though lightly armed, it featured top-tier defense systems and supported multiple faster-than-light travel modes. Its flight path was nearly impossible for ordinary warships to trace. Such ships were often used to escort important individuals or for high-grade interstellar travel.

“This is it.”

When they reached the ship’s connection port, the floor track came to a halt. A sealed steel door unlocked and slid open, revealing a bright yellow passageway ahead.

The corridor looked like it was formed from yellow crystal lattice, with a faint glow rippling across its surface. As Thilan stepped on it, she immediately felt weightless—her body gently floated upward. After all, this area was neither within the station nor inside the ship, and lacked gravity generators.

“Come with me.”

The priestess beside her took Thilan’s hand and guided her forward like a swimming fish, gliding effortlessly through the radiant yellow corridor toward the interior of the massive ship.

Though about a hundred meters long, the passage seemed tiny compared to the scale of the space station. And outside, the boundless starry sky spread vast and cold. Just drifting through it gave Thilan an entirely new and different sensation.

It was refreshing—almost overwhelming. She felt a strange illusion of being stunned, coupled with the humbling awareness of her own insignificance. She quietly savored this first encounter with outer space.

Finally, when she reached the ship’s interior, the tip of Thilan’s soft black shoes touched down on the inner deck, and the feeling of gravity returned.

Following the four priestesses deeper into the vessel, Thilan passed through one door after another until they arrived at a larger, open interior space. The ceiling overhead appeared transparent, displaying the starscape outside the ship. Around the dome were eight large display screens, showing visuals of the ship’s surroundings from multiple angles. From here, one could see the structure of the spaceport and other ships docked at adjacent docking arms.

“Miss Thilan, this way. Your room has been prepared.”

Another priestess in a white uniform embroidered with golden leaves approached. She bowed first, then led Thilan to a door inside the ship.

“This is your keycard. Also, please wear this bracelet—it can generate a protective shield at any time to ensure your safety and can also emit an emergency distress signal.”

With that, the attendant handed her a special golden bracelet with intricate engravings—clearly a high-grade magical artifact.

“Thank you.”

Accepting both items, Thilan used the keycard to open her room. Inside was a fully furnished space, resembling a high-end city apartment suite. It included a bedroom, bathroom, small kitchen, living room, and dining area. Naturally, compared to accommodations on the surface, this was more compact—but also sturdier in construction.

“Dinner preparation will begin after 16:00. You may place a reservation in advance, and it will be delivered. Alternatively, you may dine at the designated restaurant.”

The priestess gave a few more instructions before taking her leave.

After entering the bedroom, Thilan lay down on the bed. Her silky long hair spread across the sheets. As she stared at the ceiling, something occurred to her. She got up and searched around until she found the remote control at the bedside.

With a few adjustments, the ceiling grew faintly transparent, as though clouds had been swept away, revealing the view of the starry sky outside.

By this point, the starship had slowly left the port and was entering high-speed flight. Once it cleared the planet’s safe zone, it would initiate hyperspace jump.

“What kind of navigation mode will they use?”

Thilan guessed it would likely be a high-dimensional jump via the Aijeka Sea, followed by travel into other star regions. This was currently the fastest known method of interstellar travel, though extremely demanding on both the ship and its passengers—ordinary people couldn’t withstand the immense strain.

“Starship is now in sub-light-speed mode and gradually ascending dimensions. Estimated entry into the Aijeka Sea in 7 hours, 11 minutes, and 31 seconds. All passengers, please prepare to enter safety pods in 6 hours and 40 minutes.”

A broadcast voice sounded from the wall, then shut off. The ship continued its course smoothly.

Lying on her bed, Thilan gazed up at the endless, distant stars. A sense of emptiness and distance slowly welled up inside her. Now that she had left Verdant Veil behind, everything from her past seemed to be slipping further and further away—an emotional distance mirroring the physical one.

“Reality truly does influence one’s emotional perception,” she thought, then closed her eyes and gently drifted into a quiet nap.

She seemed naturally accustomed to traveling alone. There was no anxiety—nothing to keep her from sleeping.

After a peaceful nap lasting an hour and a half, Thilan gradually awoke. It was now 3 PM—an hour before dinner.

Sitting up, she didn’t feel like going back to sleep. Instead, she picked up her personal terminal and opened a book she’d long wanted to read but never had the time for.

It was a gift from Madam Heatherway—passed down to her personally. The book described the scenery and past events of the distant Winddewgrass Star Region. (T/N: I think I tl-ed it as Snow Orchid before? Or was it different Star Region? I’m too lazy to recheck)

It was named Winddewgrass because the habitable planets in that system featured vast, sparsely populated grasslands and uniquely scenic beauty.

Although the Winddewgrass Star Region wasn’t known for its economy or high-value products, the people who lived there enjoyed a high happiness index. Life was particularly laid-back and slow-paced.

Because it was far from the bustling regions of the Federation, Winddewgrass gradually became something of a legend on the Federation’s Star Network. People would say, “If you’re unhappy with life, or just want to escape from the world, go travel there for a while.”

As Thilan flipped through the stories in the book, time slipped by unnoticed. When she returned to her senses, it was already past 4 PM.

Time to eat something. Once the ship entered the Aijeka Sea later tonight, she wouldn’t be able to eat at all.

She sat up and thought for a moment, then decided to order room service instead of going to the restaurant.

Soon, her selected dinner arrived: poached chicken served with aromatic parsley and pumpkin rice cakes.

She didn’t eat too much—after all, needing to use the restroom in the safety pod would be a hassle. Thilan remembered the guidance she’d received.

After her meal, a tone echoed through the starship, announcing to passengers and crew that entry into the Aijeka Sea would begin in 2 hours and 48 minutes.

After tidying up the dishes, Thilan read a little more and then took a nap.

Time passed into night, and the third announcement rang out.

Following the instructions, she left her room. Two priestesses, who had been waiting for her, escorted her to a designated safety pod—a reinforced chamber located in the most heavily armored central section of the ship. Once inside, the two young priestesses nestled beside her on either side, helping her lie down. The pod’s lid slowly closed, and the final boarding announcement sounded throughout the ship.

Lying on the soft mat inside the chamber, Thilan gradually felt a wave of dizziness, as if her soul was leaving her body—a sense of dislocation between mind and flesh. Fortunately, the feeling didn’t last long. A special glow lit up inside the pod, and everything soon stabilized.

“We must be entering the Aijeka Sea now,” she thought, looking at the warped, shimmering world outside the pod. Everything beyond looked like distorted images, doubled and rippling.

“How are you feeling, Thilan?” one of the priestesses beside her asked.

“I’m alright.”

“You’ll get used to it with time. The first time is always the most uncomfortable,” said the other, gently comforting her.

The three of them lay in the safety pod as time slowly passed. After several minutes, there came a slight tremor and a wave of dizziness.

“Starship has exited the Aijeka Sea. All passengers and personnel, please wait five minutes before exiting the safety pods.”

“Countdown commencing...”

...

“Starship has entered stable cruise mode. You may now exit the safety pod.”

The translucent pale-blue cover slowly opened. The two priestesses helped Thilan up and out of the pod.

“We should now be at the outer boundary of the Corolla Star Region. Feel free to walk around the ship a bit—landing will occur in a few hours.”

“That fast?” Thilan blinked, slightly surprised.

“That’s right. This Lightwing-class starship is one of the rare vessels capable of rapidly crossing the Aijeka Sea. Regular hyperspace ships would be far slower, since they rely on fundamentally different forms of travel.”

Alongside the two priestesses, Thilan walked to one of the ship’s observation windows. Through the thick transparent metal-glass, she saw a distant star region—like glimpsing the edge of the polar night from the Arctic. A sliver of golden light peeked through, yet the starry sky remained dark.

“There’s a fortress planet inside the Corolla Star Region. It was constructed from the remnants of the Transcendent Era of humanity. Its defense capabilities are immense—the entire planet is a massive planetary fortress and combat machine. Deep within, there are special stabilizing zones capable of isolating even extinction-grade attacks.”

As she spoke, one of the priestesses raised her hand and pointed toward a tiny silver dot in the distance.

As the image zoomed in, Thilan finally saw the scenery on that planet.

Its surface was blanketed in silver-layered orbital rings. Some of these held suspended enclosures filled with blooming flowers and trees. By adjusting their arrangements, the scenery could be quickly changed. But on closer inspection, it was clear that hidden beneath the lush flora were countless autonomous units—most dormant and folded like stacked boxes, forming terrain and high-rises. Once activated, they would unfurl into sky-darkening weapons of slaughter.

The planet also stored vast quantities of modular materials year-round, allowing it to rapidly assemble fleets of starships as needed.

As the seat of executive power and military core of the Rose Federation, this planet was undeniably qualified: solemn, majestic, powerful—and violent.

Perhaps to mask this austere and menacing aura, the surface had been adorned with flowers and greenery—like a crown woven from blossoms. Though beautiful, it was the tangible embodiment of the Federation’s supreme authority—absolute and unquestionable.

After five hours of travel, the starship gradually approached the planet and descended vertically, landing on a pale golden platform.

When the hatches of the five starships opened, the priests and accompanying personnel disembarked and gathered at the central exit.

“Did you find the trip comfortable, Thilan?” asked the High Priest with pale gold, almost silvery-white hair.

“Yes, thank you for your concern,” the girl nodded.

“Very well. Come with me.”

He smiled with satisfaction and led her out of the planetary spaceport to the main corridor beyond.

There, floating vehicles of all sizes zipped past swiftly yet in perfect order. The streets were nearly empty of pedestrians, occupied only by official government personnel going about their work.

They were the brain cells of this massive Federation—each person tasked with organizing and processing the countless reports and proposals submitted from every star region. Like a vast assembly line, they sorted, classified, and forwarded information, handling every request that flowed in.

Individually, they might seem insignificant and powerless. But collectively, the entire workforce of this planet formed the mind of the nation—resolving conflicts, issuing commands, recording feedback, and sustaining the continued survival of the state.