-15- The Sky Has Fallen

It was an early spring morning before dawn, when distant thunder rumbled across the sky, followed by fine threads of rain. Rosaline Sheen, yawning, rose from her bed and went to the window, where she saw the silhouette of the Black Tower ruins faintly emerging through the misty rain like an ink-wash painting.

She shut the window firmly, ensuring no cold, damp air could seep in through the cracks. After freshening up, she went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

The clatter of spatulas soon blended with the sound of rain, mingled with the sizzling of eggs frying in the pan. Once she had assembled two sandwiches—fried eggs, bread, smoked bacon, and vegetables—she placed one on a plate, added a glass of water, and hurried up to the third floor to knock on a door.

“Big Sister Witch, I’ve brought breakfast.”

“Mm… come in…”

Soon, with permission granted, she opened the door and stepped inside. The peerless witch sister lay on her side in bed, clutching a soft pillow, still half-asleep, her beautiful silver hair tousled in disarray.

Without much expression, Rosaline quietly set the plate on the bedside table, then slipped out and closed the door behind her.

This was one of the ways she had found to contribute to the daily life of the manor—participating as much as possible, though her efforts were but a fraction of what the witch sister bestowed. Still, any contribution brought her some measure of inner peace.

It had to be said that since last summer, when she had received the “Meditation Method” from the witch sister, her rigorous training and life at the manor had undergone tremendous changes.

In the previous autumn, the witch had cultivated a plot of land in a nearby city park to grow wheat, using magic to accelerate its growth, which allowed bread to appear on the manor’s menu. At the end of winter, the witch set up a greenhouse on the estate for vegetables, finally securing lettuce as an ingredient. The witch herself handled hunting, while Rosaline gathered bird eggs—thus completing the four essential components for sandwiches, a new delicacy Rosaline finally got to taste.

A few days ago, the witch announced the development of something called the “Electric Grid,” which would soon capture any little thieves sneaking in to steal vegetables. Rosaline supported all the witch’s endeavors unconditionally but couldn’t help worrying about the innocent little deer and rabbits.

“Please stay far away from here…” she quietly prayed.

…

Perhaps because life was too comfortable, the witch’s schedule was irregular, often sleeping until noon, a stark contrast to Rosaline’s long-standing habit of a disciplined routine.

Yet today was relatively normal. After eating her sandwich, the witch lingered in bed a while longer before coming downstairs. Though her brows still bore the marks of sleepiness, her charm was undiminished, even enhanced by a lazy, alluring air.

Noticing her descent, Rosaline, who had been meditating by the floor-to-ceiling window on the first floor, immediately opened her eyes with a nervous expression.

The witch tilted her head, a trace of puzzlement in her gaze.

“Big Sister Witch, you said today you’d give me my first test…”

Seeing that she truly seemed to have forgotten, Rosaline hurried to remind her.

According to the witch’s promise, the annual growth in magical power was the sole criterion for assessment. Though only half a year had passed since Rosaline began her training last summer, a small test was still scheduled to help her better understand her progress.

“Mm… I remember now,” the witch said calmly as she approached Rosaline. “Give me your hand.”

—Though magic tests could be self-administered, having Ivette conduct an external examination prevented any false reporting of results.

Rosaline’s heart leapt to her throat with anxiety. She wasn’t sure what score counted as passing, but she clearly recalled the witch’s warning that poor performance would mean no matter how close they might become, she would not be accepted as an apprentice.

For a reclusive master with countless legendary experiences, this was no empty threat. Over hundreds of years, Ivette had surely encountered many prodigious youths; Rosaline was neither special nor deserving of any extra mercy compared to those long-gone predecessors.

The spell commenced, the judgment underway.

One second, two seconds, three…

When the results should have been evident, Rosaline cautiously lifted her face to gauge the witch’s expression, only to find it utterly impassive. Her dark red eyes revealed no emotion—a silence so chilling it was terrifying.

She was doomed… Rosaline’s heart sank to the abyss, tears threatening to spill.

Then, suddenly, the witch spoke: “I will soon give you a casting ring as a reward for passing. Prepare yourself.”

“A casting ring?” Rosaline blinked in surprise, then exclaimed joyfully: “I passed the test?”

Ivette gave a quiet affirmative.

Though her expression remained as calm as ever, inside, upon seeing Rosaline’s magic power reach 6, Ivette felt as if the sky itself had fallen.

When she first began practicing the Meditation Method at the Abyss Base, it took a full year to gain just over two points.

Now, Rosaline surpassed 6 in half a year—twelve in a full year. Given sixty years, she could surpass her teacher by a wide margin! Such an ultimate prodigy—Ivette felt guilty not to take her as an apprentice.

Though their lifespans differed, making direct comparison imperfect, Rosaline’s talent still overwhelmingly eclipsed ordinary people from their home star.

Wait—is this talent due to different human constitutions between the two worlds?

This thought gave Ivette an anchor.

According to Rosaline’s descriptions, the Radiance Continent was rich with epic myths and powerful beings like dragons, suggesting a mid- to high-magic world. In such a realm, the natural rune density might be higher, enhancing rune siphoning effects.

The possibility was high…

…

Moments later, under Rosaline’s eager gaze, Ivette fetched a ring-shaped magical device from upstairs.

It was not her “Furnace Ring X3” with 44,000 remaining space, but a recently salvaged “Sky Ring Y2” from the ruins, with 80,000 rune capacity.

“I will input some high-level spells into this for you soon. Then you can activate them instantly with your mind,” Ivette said. “Even if I’m not by your side, you’ll have some means of self-defense.”

“Thank you, Sister!” Rosaline was thrilled but restrained her excitement, bowing respectfully.

Then she hesitated and added, “But, I haven’t trained long. Can my magic power really handle spells?”

“If I say yes, then yes,” Ivette replied softly as she pulled out a chair and sat down, her gaze gentle. “Want to know why?”

“Yes!” Rosaline nodded eagerly.

“It starts with two forms of magical power: the internal magic within your body and the external magic outside it. The core of rune design is to use internal magic to manipulate external magic, achieving great effect with little effort. As long as the rune array is precise and without flaws, nothing is impossible. But sometimes, don’t pursue perfection excessively—if the rune array functions normally, leave it be…”

As a top rune compiler and artist who had studied rune design at the Abyss Base for nearly three centuries, Ivette had never before so openly shared her experience and insights with another. Though what she called “basic knowledge” took hours to explain.

By the time the sun’s light dimmed, she realized neither had eaten lunch.

Yet when she looked at Rosaline, the young golden-haired girl’s eyes sparkled brightly—not a trace of the pain or confusion often caused by forced learning, but full of hope and anticipation.

“Did you understand?”

“I got the beginning, but the rest… I was just amazed,” Rosaline admitted sheepishly, scratching her head.

“How do you feel? If it’s too difficult, don’t force yourself. There’s more I can teach.”

“No, no! This knowledge is deeper than any book I’ve read. Though hard, I really love it!” Gathering courage, she asked, “Can I learn this?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Sister!”

“…From today, you don’t have to call me ‘Sister’ anymore,” Ivette said, lowering her eyelids.

“Huh?” Rosaline paused, then caught on. Watching the witch’s expression, she cautiously ventured, “…Teacher?”

Ivette nodded softly, gazing out the window.

The rain in the manor grounds had ceased.