Editing Failing Witch:Volume3 Episode2 (section)

===Part 3===

Something noisily tore through the air.

Then came the tremor and shockwave of a heavy object breaking.

It came from a small empty lot back behind the used bookstore. A stone house had stood empty there for so long it had collapsed and the white marble and black obsidian rubble had been cleared away to temporarily create a free space there.

Something would eventually be built there as the city changed, but for now it had become a witch training ground (without the landowner knowing).

Wooden boxes and barrels had been stacked up to create a mock battlefield, but those were not artificial animal familiars running around.

They were shadowy figures.

The ultimate mama had activated her Maenads.

Melehe’s task was to swiftly strike them all down with water spears as they fled.

“I’ve fallen to B Rank, but that’s still just barely enough for my broom’s recommended rank. It also helps that I’ve had it long enough to know how to use it!”

“Do not joke about these things. I wouldn’t dare use your body to become a Voland, Melehe.”

However, the fleeing Maenads were not just targets.

They were also the trump cards of Private Striga’s commander. This was no safe target practice. A moment’s inattention and she would be hunted down instead. It really did only take a moment.

The bookseller clapped her hands together in front of her very large chest.

“Okay, keep on firing. Bang, bang, bang, bang☆ Melehe, in a real battle you’ll be riddled with holes if you keep stopping to aim.”

“I…know that!!”

“You can’t just predict the enemy’s movements. You have to focus on your own movement too. You stop to aim from a subconscious desire to simplify the calculations by reducing your own movement vector to 0. Once you learn to calculate both points at the same time, your habit of stopping will go away on its own. And in the air you can’t use cover to wait out the enemy attack, so you need to learn how to shift your own movement in order to intentionally confuse the enemy’s targeting calculations so their attack magic misses you. But anyway, keep at it, Melehe. Ah.”

“Gwahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

Crimson light exploded right next to her.

“Gwah!” shouted Formula Broom – Mount Parnassus bisMR, which she had reflexively used as a shield.

Even Melehe Superlative fell down onto her rear.

But this wasn’t her fault.

The Maenads were not a magic to be used in a city. They were an ultra-offensive wartime magic meant to be activated as a group to swiftly and accurately cut off a broom-riding enemy witch’s escape to either side while the pursuing witch shot her down.

Melehe was out of breath.

And sweating profusely.

“Pant, nor-, gasp, normally, you make practice targets by attaching head-sized parchment balloons to wolf or rat familiars. Pant, ugh.”

“I just don’t like those artificial familiars.”

Simply surviving a special lesson using those monstrous things was deserving of praise.

But…

(Maybe for a normal person, but not when I want to get into Maleficium. Just your “average genius” isn’t enough for that school!)

Then she realized what her mother was doing while she worked so hard at this training.

“Hey, mom!! I know dealing with a trainee can be boring, but why are you drinking in the middle of the day!? And straight from the bottle!?”

“This is unfermented wine.”

Did that mean it was ordinary grape juice?

“It’s a familiar drink for witches. And it tastes good to boot. Although you do need to ignore that it symbolizes ‘dead blood’ in necromancy ceremonies. That is because it acts as a twisted parody of the red wine used in the holy mass.”

The woman was smiling.

As if that Limit Breaker was worried at all by the myths of another world.

Still seated on the ground, Melehe worked to calm her breathing with some success. And she wiped the sweat from her brow.

The ultimate mama and coven commander elegantly placed a hand on her cheek and spoke.

“This seemed to come out of nowhere to me. It seems like just yesterday your adolescent pride wouldn’t let you come to your mother for help.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m well past the point of being able to worry about pride.”

She had fallen to Rank B.

That was a fact.

But she wasn’t about to give up on the witch entrance exam. The summer was a major crossroads, but she wasn’t interested in a consolation prize. If she was seriously planning to get into Maleficium, she had to get back on her feet in the short time before summer came to an end. And she had to do it herself.

She would reclaim her A Rank.

She would do whatever it took. She was in no position to set aside options just because they were embarrassing or shameful.

She was no elite.

An exam student was no more than an exam student. She had failed the entrance exam last time just like everyone else.

(Damn. Could a Maleficium witch get through this training without breaking a sweat?)

“…”

She had said some awful things to Viocia and Dorothea.

She had been unstable after falling down to B Rank, but that was no excuse. She was the one who had chosen to turn her test in early. And if she had filled in the answers correctly the first time, she could have held onto her A Rank while also dealing with that incident.

She understood she was holding herself to an unrealistic standard.

But it wasn’t completely impossible. It was a standard that could be reached with sufficient skill. If only she had had a bit more skill back then.

Melehe slapped her cheeks.

She wouldn’t let anyone see her in such a shameful position again.

It was one thing for her actions to embarrass herself, but never again would she let her actions harm those around her too.

(The Maleficium Trial Class is coming up soon. I need to be back to my usual self by then.)

She pushed aside her exhaustion and shouted from her gut.

“One more round!! Let’s do this, Orpheus!!”