Miss Witch Doesn't Want to Become a Songstress-Chapter 257

As the host finished the announcement, all eyes turned to the top of the grand bridge. A girl in a pleated skirt leapt gracefully into the air, spun once midair, and landed lightly—displaying remarkable flexibility and agility even before the battle had begun.

“Edess Academy, Stacia, Blood-Eye Sequence 5: Crimson Clawblade.”

The host announced her name. The girl shook her fluffy black hair, revealing inner strands dyed a deep crimson. Her equally scarlet eyes gave off an unspoken air of aggression.

At the same time, a girl leapt down from the opposite side of the bridge. She had shoulder-length chestnut hair and wore a uniform dominated by soft brown tones. White knee-high socks on her legs conveyed the refined elegance of a noble girls’ school, without sacrificing youthful charm.

This girl stepped forward confidently, tucking her hair behind one ear, her strides composed and bold. She stopped only when she was ten meters from Stacia.

“Hive Dominion Academy, Xiakui, Primordial Sequence 5: Hornet Stinger.”

As the host called her name, the girl drew a pitch-black blade from her side. She casually discarded the sheath, and the sword—shaped like an elongated, sharp triangle—swept through the air, glinting with flashes of cold light, like a venomous hornet’s stinger.

“That’s Xiakui? I thought she’d be saved for the final match!”

“She’s famous?”

“Very. She’s Hive Dominion Academy’s top third-year student, ranked among the top five in combat strength at the academy. Her reputation is second only to the student council president.”

“It’s starting. If Edess Academy loses this match, the pressure on them will spike.”

Atop the bridge, Evony also whispered a reminder into Thilan’s ear.

“That’s Xiakui. I’ve known her since we were kids. Even my dad always praised her in front of me.”

Xiakui’s father was also a government official in the Star Region—although in a different department from Evony’s father. But because both had brilliant, enviable daughters, they were often compared by their peers.

“She’s definitely something else.”

Thilan nodded slightly, already sensing the overwhelming aura bearing down on them even before the match had begun.

“It’s starting.”

As the host’s voice rang out, Thilan raised one hand and gave a signal to her teammates. They nodded in response. Ge Yin quietly set aside her bass and picked up a small trumpet.

The trumpet, shaped like a morning glory bloom, was adorned with intricate colors and patterns resembling fairy tale flower petals. As Ge Yin blew into it, the nearby drum kit joined in, and a bold, uplifting rhythm unfurled.

Amid the rising melody, Thilan, holding her violin, slowly closed her eyes and slipped into focus.

On stage, the black triangular blade of Xiakui clashed repeatedly with Stacia’s crimson claws. Both girls moved at extreme speed. At first, the audience could follow their crisscrossing motion, but as their attacks escalated, their movements blurred, and sharp slashes and bloody claw strikes lit up the ice-made platform. Smooth, deadly cuts began to mar the stage.

After another exchange, Xiakui flipped back and leapt into the air. Behind her, translucent cicada wings suddenly unfurled. She shot forward at an impossible speed, overtaking the retreating Stacia midair. Her wide-handled, pitch-black blade struck again and again, breaking through Stacia’s defenses—until, finally, Stacia, unable to gain footing in the air, left herself open. Her guard broken, Xiakui drew back her stinger-like sword and thrust—piercing Stacia clean through the chest. The bloody tip of the black stinger emerged from her back.

“...Sorry about this.”

With her left hand pressed to Stacia’s shoulder, Xiakui whispered softly into her ear, then gave a gentle push. In one swift pull, she drew her blade free, leaving a long streak of blood behind as Stacia began to fall.

Time seemed to slow.

Xiakui’s cool, downward gaze... The crowd just about to leap up in alarm... The host and referee raising their mics, mouths poised to declare... And Stacia’s small, helpless body dropping like a rag doll, bloodied and unwilling.

Then—A still stroke of bow on string.

Tensioned metallic violin strings rang out. In this fast-falling world, the sudden sound of the violin acted like a signal flare, and the grand, epic soundscape followed.

“Radiance” × “Advance”

Like a thousand galloping warhorses—memories and vows came crashing back into this hopeless world. This earth, shrouded in darkness, now shone so bright, so noble, it could not be ignored. It moved hearts to tears.

Flash, the name of the composition, symbolized the most indomitable rebellion—the vow and memory that could never be forgotten.

The falling figure of Stacia was enveloped in golden light. As the glittering particles bloomed around her, the gaping wound on her chest began to heal rapidly. The bloodstains on her clothes vanished, and soon she looked completely unscathed—not even her black-and-blue uniform showed a single tear.

Eyes reopened under the halo. One of her originally red pupils had turned gold, and inside it, something ticked like the gears of a clock.

Midair, she twisted her body and flung a claw from one arm—embedding it into the ice pillar. She kicked off it and shot upward again like a bolt of lightning.

Fierce air pressure compressed the gold-red aura radiating from her, forming an oval-shaped barrier.

Slamming into position beside Xiakui, Stacia launched her counterattack. Three crimson claw strikes tore forward. Xiakui braced herself and swung her black triangular sword repeatedly to block each feral blow.

Claws and blade screeched against each other, striking sparks under intense heat. Their eyes locked, and then they split again.

“Hive Secret Art: Hornet Spiral Dance!”

Realizing one strike wasn’t enough, Xiakui unleashed her own secret art. Her form twisted through the air with unnatural agility—evading Stacia’s assault, reappearing behind her.

Just as her blade was about to pierce through Stacia again, the music playing atop the bridge shifted.

Stacia, back to Xiakui, seemed to know exactly what was happening behind her. Her body twisted, dodging the thrust. One blood-colored claw pinned the blade, while the other reached back—and closed around Xiakui’s throat.

Crimson nails dug into pale skin.

In that moment, the sounds of clashing steel on stage fell silent. Slowly, Stacia lifted Xiakui off the ground. As her feet left the platform, the black triangular blade slipped from her weakened grip, clattering to the stage and scattering shards of ice before rolling to a stop.

Warm crimson liquid seeped from Stacia’s embedded claws, trickling down Xiakui’s collar. The night wind made it feel cold. Her breathing and blood flow seized—Xiakui looked up at the lights atop the bridge, vision blurring, gradually slipping into unconsciousness.

Until finally, she was gently lowered to the ground, her body limp, kneeling—falling into the spreading pool of blood beneath her.