After successfully coaxing Tunzuo onto their “ship,” the witch exploration squad took a brief rest and decided to set off to return to the world of Dunayala.
The silver-white battleship lay silently docked on the wasteland of the desolate planet, like a silver coin abandoned in the ashes.
The wind whipped up grit that struck the hull with a faint, rustling sound, as if bidding a final farewell to this barren world.
“Check complete. Power core preheating normal. Spatial jump array charged to one hundred percent.”
An Lin sat in the pilot’s seat of the cockpit, her fingers flying across the smooth control panel.
Streams of dark green data flowed before her eyes, appearing and vanishing.
She turned her head to look at Liuli and Warner, who were busy behind her.
“Is everyone ready? We’re heading back.”
“Ready whenever you are, Captain.”
Liuli, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, replied without looking up, busy adjusting the navigation star chart in her hands.
“Inventory check complete, no issues. Life support systems are also operating normally.”
Warner returned to her seat from the rear of the battleship, confirming that all the ship’s systems were functioning properly.
An Lin nodded, taking a deep breath.
Her eyes, which usually held a hint of mischief and greed, now gleamed with a touch of steadiness.
She reached out and grasped the metal lever that activated the battleship’s engines, her knuckles whitening slightly from the force.
“Hold on tight, little sister Tunzuo.”
An Lin looked back, offering Tunzuo a reassuring smile from the rear seats.
Tunzuo was curled up in a wide seat, hugging her knees.
Hearing An Lin’s words, she gave a slight nod but said nothing.
Tunzuo’s deep green pupils reflected the gloomy sky outside the window, her expression somewhat vacant and lost.
Vroom—
An Lin pushed the lever forward decisively.
The battleship emitted a low, powerful hum.
This slumbering steel beast was awakened.
The roar of the engines instantly drowned out the howling wind.
Brilliant blue ion flames shot from the battleship’s rear.
The massive recoil sent sand and stones flying in all directions, creating a shockwave of swirling dust.
The battleship slowly rose, hovering several meters above the ground, steadily adjusting its posture.
The bow gradually aligned with the gray, overcast sky above.
“Time to go home.”
An Lin said softly, a note of relief in her voice.
The next moment, the battleship shot upward like a sharp sword piercing the gloomy atmosphere, streaking toward the vast cosmos.
The intense feeling of weightlessness lasted only a few seconds, followed by steady super-gravity acceleration.
For a moment, Tunzuo felt as if she were being pressed firmly into the back of her seat.
The roar of the engines and the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears were all she could hear.
Soon, the scarred wasteland planet rapidly shrank outside the viewport, eventually becoming a gray marble, floating alone in the silent universe.
The scenery outside the window gradually gave way to profound darkness.
The boundless void was like a vast swath of black velvet, and the countless brilliant stars were like diamond dust scattered upon it—cold and dazzling.
Tunzuo unbuckled her seatbelt and, using her ghostly trait, floated over to the viewport.
She pressed her palm against the cool glass, gazing at the vast, boundless starscape outside.
Memories flooded back like a tide.
Three years ago, it was the same starry sky.
Back then, Tunzuo had just finished the devilish training from Antuxi.
She had been taken deep into the cosmos by that supreme witch who stood at the apex of the universe.
Antuxi stood amidst the sea of stars, her silver-white hair dancing in the cosmic winds.
She was surrounded by an aura of magical brilliance that would make even deities bow their heads.
‘Watch closely, lazy daughter…’
Antuxi’s words from that time echoed once more in Tunzuo’s ears.
Plucking stars with bare hands, using a star as a furnace and a galaxy as an anvil, Antuxi had used her supreme power to forge for Tunzuo that magical staff named “Huanye.”
In that moment, Antuxi seemed like the master of the universe.
The entire sea of stars was her backyard, the stars playthings at her fingertips.
‘Using the cosmos as a chessboard, the stars as pieces…’
Tunzuo murmured to herself, her finger tracing a light path on the glass as if trying to touch those distant points of light.
She remembered Antuxi’s gaze that looked down upon all living things, remembered that world-shaking, fate-weaving power.
A certain ambition began to sprout in Tunzuo’s lonely, indolent thoughts.
‘When… will I be able to hold the sun, moon, and starlight in my hands like Mommy?’
Tunzuo sighed softly, a flicker of loneliness passing through her deep green eyes.
Her slacker’s heart, which only wanted to lie flat and sleep, stirred with an inexplicable restlessness.
“Little sister Tunzuo, come back and sit down. We’re about to initiate the spatial fold!”
An Lin’s voice interrupted Tunzuo’s reverie.
Tunzuo obeyed, floating back to her seat and fastening her seatbelt.
Warning lights began flashing in the cockpit.
The magic arrays on the battleship’s surface lit up one by one.
Complex runes flowed across the silver-white hull, emitting a dazzling radiance that illuminated the entire cockpit as bright as day.
“Initiating jump engines. Coordinates confirmed. Target sector: Dunayala periphery, K-437 star system.”
“Three, two, one, initiate!”
The space in front of the battleship began to be pressed down by an invisible giant hand.
The profound darkness began to violently dent and warp.
Light bent in a bizarre manner at this moment.
Finally, the stable space was torn open, forming a massive vortex—a wormhole leading to a distant star sector, filled with turbulent energy currents within.
The battleship’s form gradually elongated under the wormhole’s gravitational pull, finally disappearing entirely into it.
“Whoa!”
Tunzuo felt as if she had been stuffed into a high-speed spinning washing machine.
Her internal organs churned.
The starlight before her eyes stretched into countless thin, colorful lines, dazzlingly beautiful yet accompanied by a nauseating dizziness.
The sensation lasted only a few seconds, but to Tunzuo, it felt like an eternity.
In an instant, everything returned to calm.
The battleship slid smoothly out of the wormhole into a completely new sector of space.
The starscape outside the viewport was utterly different.
The stars here were brighter, and the concentration of ambient mana was noticeably higher than before.
Even through the battleship’s hull, Tunzuo could feel a refreshing wave of magical energy.
“Phew… No issues. We made it out safely.”
An Lin released the control stick, wiped a bead of cold sweat from her forehead, and let out a long sigh of relief.
“Are you okay, little sister Tunzuo? First-time passengers experiencing a spatial fold usually feel a bit unwell. It’s normal.”
An Lin looked back at Tunzuo, only to find the young witch leaning against the window, retching, her face pale.
“Little sister Tunzuo, are you alright?”
An Lin looked at Tunzuo with concern.
“I’m… I’m fine. Just… a bit motion sick.”
Tunzuo waved a hand, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying.
She was currently experiencing “spatial fold vertigo syndrome.”
“Haha, you’ll get used to it. Most witches go through this the first time. Alright, little sister Tunzuo, after another day of travel, we’ll reach Dunayala.”
An Lin smiled brightly, turning her gaze back to the control panel before her.
“One day?”
Tunzuo was surprised.
She wiped the corner of her mouth, asking in confusion.
“If you have technology like spatial folding, why not just fold directly to Dunayala’s doorstep? Wouldn’t that be more convenient and faster?”
Tunzuo’s sharp question caused An Lin’s hand on the control stick to stiffen slightly.
A somewhat awkward yet polite smile appeared on her face.
“Ahem… Well, that’s actually because the Witch Codex has strict regulations.”
“Regulations?”
“Yes, the ‘Interstellar Traffic Safety Law’ enacted by the Witch Council… well, that’s roughly its name. The ‘Interstellar Traffic Safety Law’ stipulates that, except for high-ranking witches with special permits, no witch may perform spatial folds within three star sectors surrounding the world of Dunayala.”
An Lin’s eyes darted about, as if she were organizing her words or feeling embarrassed about the upcoming explanation.
“Why? To prevent enemy attacks? Or is there some kind of defensive barrier around Dunayala that prohibits spatial folds?”
Tunzuo’s curiosity was piqued.
“Uh… neither.”
An Lin scratched her head, her expression growing even more peculiar, even tinged with a hint of shame.
“Actually, it’s because… there have been many ‘traffic accidents’ involving spatial folds in the past.”
“Traffic accidents?”
“Yes, traffic accidents.”
An Lin sighed and began to educate this naive young witch about the dark history of witch society.
“You know how we witches are, right? Our personalities are all about being free-spirited, even to the point of being… a bit scatterbrained. Many young witches, when calculating fold coordinates, either miscalculate a decimal point due to poor skills, misread star charts because they’re drunk, or some simply do it while half-asleep…”
“And the results of all that led to…”
An Lin raised her hand and pointed out the window at the empty star sector.
“Back when folding was allowed, Dunayala’s Low Earth Orbit was like a subway station during rush hour, even more chaotic than that. Dozens of battleships or transport ships would mis-fold every day, crashing directly into someone’s balcony, getting stuck in the atmosphere, or even dropping right into the council hall, not to mention the starports.”
“The council had to spend enormous funds every year repairing public facilities due to spatial fold accidents and dealing with brawls caused by ‘collisions.’ Finally, the big shots on the council couldn’t take it anymore and enacted this ‘Interstellar Traffic Safety Law’ regulation.”
Tunzuo listened, dumbfounded.
Her mind involuntarily conjured up the comical image of a bunch of witches piloting battleships and crashing into each other all over the sky.
“So… it’s because everyone was too reckless?”
“You could say that.”
An Lin shrugged helplessly.
“Actually, at first, hardly anyone obeyed. After all, spatial folding is really convenient. Getting caught just meant paying a fine. But not long after the law was enacted, a Peak Witch, ignoring the regulations, misfolded and ended up directly in another Peak Witch’s bathtub. That triggered a magical ‘sparring match’ that nearly destroyed half a continent of Dunayala… After that, everyone learned their lesson and obediently slowed down to sub-light travel in the nearby sectors.”
Tunzuo: …
Tunzuo suddenly felt that this seemingly lofty, mysterious witch society might not be as rigorous and sacred as she had imagined.
“What happened to the two Peak Witches who fought later?”
Tunzuo was a bit curious about the aftermath of the magical battle.
“Oh, they ended up taking a liking to each other during the fight, got married, and now the ‘Witch Daily’ still publishes sweet little stories about them from time to time. Ah, so enviable~”
An Lin’s words were startling, and a hint of envy even flickered in her eyes.
‘I see… I think I’m starting to understand what witch society is like.’
Tunzuo nodded speechlessly.
The sacred image she had of witches shattered completely.
This so-called witch society and witch race were even more unhinged than she had imagined.
“So… witches make these kinds of low-level mistakes too.”
“Haha, that’s just how witches are~”
An Lin gave an awkward laugh and adjusted the battleship’s speed to cruising mode.
“Alright, little sister Tunzuo, it’s going to be a long journey now. You can go to the rest cabin to sleep, or read a book. Nothing much is happening for now.”
The subsequent voyage became calm and monotonous.
The battleship carved a long trail through the sea of stars.
Tunzuo spent most of her time sleeping in the rest cabin, occasionally waking up to eat some snacks An Lin had prepared, sometimes just staring blankly at the endless darkness outside the window.
Until—
“Little sister Tunzuo, wake up! We’re here!”
An Lin’s excited voice rang in Tunzuo’s ears, filled with barely concealed excitement.
Tunzuo groggily opened her eyes, rubbing her sleepy face.
She followed the direction An Lin was pointing and looked out the viewport.
The next second, Tunzuo’s breath caught.
In the endless dark void, a “flower” of unimaginable size was quietly blooming amidst the stars.
It was no ordinary planet, but a galaxy-scale world that resembled a divine miracle.
The massive “petals” and “leaves” were composed of countless vast floating continents.
They were layered and rotated around the center, each continent shimmering with the lights of civilization, like dewdrops upon petals.
And at the very center of Dunayala, the “stamen” position, three eternal, brilliant suns burned.
Their warm, sacred light illuminated the entire world as if it were daytime.
Six moons, resplendent like gemstones, orbited the suns, emitting a soft silver radiance like princesses surrounded by stars.
Connecting those floating continents were rushing stellar rivers and dazzling nebula clusters.
They acted like stems and veins, tightly linking the entire Dunayala world together, with the flow of life’s magic coursing through them.
And in orbit around Dunayala, countless floating cities as large as planets circled.
They were like pearls inlaid upon this cosmic flower, glittering with the lights of a thriving civilization.
“This… this is Dunayala?”
Tunzuo’s eyes widened, her deep green pupils filled with the magnificent sight.
The world of Dunayala completely overturned her understanding of a “planet.”
In Tunzuo’s impression, a world should be round, solid, something you could stand firmly upon.
But the Dunayala world before her eyes was fragmented, suspended, flowing, brimming with the wildness and romance of magic.
Dunayala did not look like a naturally formed celestial body.
It looked more like a work of art meticulously carved by a deity, or a miracle casually scattered by a mad mage.
“That’s right.”
An Lin walked over to Tunzuo’s side, looking out at the grand spectacle, her voice full of pride.
“Welcome to Dunayala, little sister Tunzuo.”
An Lin turned her head, offering Tunzuo a gentle and brilliant smile.
“This is a miracle shaped by witches with magic, the most splendid treasure in the entire universe, and also… your future home.”
Tunzuo didn’t speak.
She just quietly gazed at that blooming cosmic flower, a complex, indescribable emotion stirring in her heart.
There was awe, reverence, and also… a faint trace of longing.
‘Home… is it?’
Tunzuo whispered to herself, a faint smile curling at the corner of her mouth.
Although the road ahead was unknown, although she still had to go to that witch academy that sounded terrifying, at least for now, Tunzuo had a direction she could look forward to.