Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva

Chapter 203 November Rain

The competition in November came to an end, and after the match with Lelysia Academy, Tilan's life welcomed a respite before the Winter Festival competition at the end of December.

The rain outside was pouring, pelting the ground and everything with it, producing a dense sound. Tilan, holding an umbrella, walked through the rain, feeling the thumping of raindrops on the umbrella and the impact of the rain on her fingers. The air was mixed with the smell of water vapor and soil. Occasionally, passing by patches of grass and flower beds, she could see plants beaten sparse and disordered by the rain.

In the Southern Hemisphere, November marks the height of the summer rainy season.

Her black leather shoes stepped on the flowing water on the ground. Tilan climbed the steps until at last she stood under the door's rain shelter. Only then did she turn back, close the umbrella, and shake off the water droplets.

Her upper body was quite clean, wearing a dark blue dress that felt like rose petals, soft and textured. At the cuffs and collar were delicate pleated trims, while her lower body was dressed in a black knee-length checkered skirt. Her socks on her ankles and calves were damp, and her shoes also bore some mud.

"I'm still not quite used to this," Tilan bent down, lightly tapped her foot to shake off the ice crystals, and then ran her fingertips over the shoes, also brushing off the dry soil particles.

She used to live underground where she hardly ever experienced getting rained on, only seeing it commonly in films. But since coming to school in the south, she's now encountering it daily and it's almost becoming routine.

Standing under the rain shelter, watching the persistent downpour outside, Tilan sniffed the moisture and freshness in the air. After two minutes, she finally turned and walked indoors.

There was a month left before the Winter Festival competition in December, but Tilan didn't plan to stay at Edith Academy any longer. Instead, she was going to study at Yuanting Academy.

She had already arranged everything regarding her affairs at Edith Academy. The past several months of planning and acclimatizing had put everything on track. Even in her absence, it would function as normal.

It would be announced that she would be undergoing a month of intensive training and study in preparation for the upcoming competition, which actually sounded quite reasonable. However, compared to the current opponents, there really was no one who could pose a threat to her, not even Seraphiel. Tilan was certain she could defeat him.

When she watched the battles, she had unconsciously made comparisons in her mind and was surprised to find herself feeling so certain without a trace of panic or anxiety.

Confidence isn't something that needs to be specially cultivated. If a person is particularly skilled and knowledgeable in a certain field, they naturally become confident when dealing with familiar things, purely a sense of security coming from experience and strength.

Although the clones were not as strong as the original, their swordsmanship hardly differed since they were manifestations of her own consciousness. It was quite difficult to defeat them with moves alone, and sometimes brute force was necessary to break through.

After practicing for a while, the four figures merged back into Tilan at the center, concluding the duel.

Resuming her seat on the cushion, Tilan reflected on the spar just now and inevitably compared this ability with the elves' secret "Butterfly Sevenfold Technique." Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire

While she had learned the elves' "Butterfly Sevenfold Technique," such abilities required one to be of the Natural Sequence to perform, which she could not since her training lay in the Withering Sequence. She could only use Withering Sequence magic power to mimic and improve upon it, resulting in a starkly different effect.

The elves' secret "Butterfly Sevenfold Technique" was a spell with fairy-tale and fantastical properties, creating seven identical selves, each one real and governed by the same consciousness—as though in a game, where the player controls several characters, but ultimately as one commander. Moreover, as long as one clone survives, it can live on in the end.

However, the "Phantom Doppelganger Technique" she used was different. It essentially capitalized on the Withering Sequence's adept manipulation of soul consciousness, using magic power to craft identical ghostly clones from her own template, then guiding them with fragments of her own consciousness.

The clones could not replace the original, and if the original were defeated, the clones would immediately vanish. Compared to the "Butterfly Sevenfold Technique," there were far fewer practitioners of the "Phantom Doppelganger Technique," as Transcendents of the Withering Sequence found it more efficient to cultivate self-sufficient specters than to invest time researching this technique, saving energy in the process.

However, such abilities were not entirely without merit; at least in Tilan's view, many new tactics could be devised.

The "Butterfly Sevenfold Technique" has a fixed number of seven clones and is also time-limited, unable to exist simultaneously for long periods. In contrast, the "Phantom Doppelganger Technique" was different—as long as she had sufficient magic power and her thought process could keep up, she could maintain more clones for longer durations.

This could assist her in casting rituals that required multiple people, large-scale spells, or using clones to cover for the original to buy time, particularly effective against multiple enemies.

After completing her training, Tilan made some minor refinements to several details, then recorded the summarized experience in her notes, adding comments before finally setting down her pen.

Blinking, a mirror made of crystal appeared before her. Tilan looked at her own reflection in the mirror, then set the mirror aside, leaning on the desk and gazing sideways at the notes in front of her.

It's a pity clones can't study or do homework for her. In essence, it would only save the act of 'writing.' The thinking and directing would still be hers, and directing the clones to write used far more energy than if she wrote by hand, which was more relaxed and natural.

They were only really useful in battle. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the desk for a nap, her black hair falling on the mirror, delicate and clear.