Ingredients infused with transcendence energy were pretty common in this world, but they often came with a hefty price tag.
We were talking fruits, veggies, medicinal herbs, even basic materials soaked in transcendence energy.
Some plants or animals had been grown in high-energy environments, while others had absorbed it after maturing in a saturated transcendence field.
Either way, they ended up as high-end goods, all because of that transcendence energy label.
Honestly, it felt like a scam sometimes. There had been that whole marketing push for “high-energy” materials a while back—did people really think transcendence energy was some magic health boost?
Weren’t they worried about, like, energy radiation shaving years off their life?
Still, I couldn’t deny that some transcendence-infused items had real effects. Certain plants, for instance, relied on transcendence energy to grow, and their fruits genuinely benefited the body.
But that was the exception. Most of those things were either useless or straight-up harmful. You couldn’t expect transcendence energy to waltz into your body and kindly fix your ailments or buff your physique. That was pure fantasy.
At best, it dissipated harmlessly. At worst, it wreaked havoc, landing you in the hospital with internal injuries—or a one-way ticket to the crematorium.
Flipping through the recipe book, I noticed most ingredients were standard, but some recipes called for high-energy materials—aka transcendence-infused stuff.
I pulled out my phone and checked them online. They were edible, at least.
A few high-energy ingredients had been crossed out with a pen, probably Senior Tang’s doing. Her scribbled notes in the margins called them “practically poison.”
Guess she had tried them and paid the price. I hoped it wasn’t too bad.
As I kept reading, I saw more of her notes scattered across the pages. With so many corrections, I wondered how that book even got published. Wasn’t it just leading people astray?
I got a kick out of Senior Tang’s snarky comments, which were way more entertaining than the recipes themselves.
Time slipped by as I read.
No weird customers had shown up, and there weren’t any massive delivery orders like the day before.
But Senior Tang was taking forever. Was she scouring the city for supplies, or—oh no—was she hunting down more bizarre ingredients to turn into pastries?
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I swore I could taste that awful root-thing from that morning creeping back up.
Still, with the shop empty, it was just me. A little worry nagged at me, but being alone also meant I could do whatever I wanted.
My eyes drifted to the display case, where the fancy cakes sat, each with a price tag that made my wallet weep.
Right then, it was just me. Sure, there were cameras, but I technically had access to the footage…
If I let temptation win, those luxurious desserts, so out of reach normally, were right there for the taking.
But I didn’t give in. If I had swiped one, I’d probably have gotten an earful when Senior Tang got back.
Those cakes were front and center, the shop’s pride and joy. Even during lunch when we could eat for free, I didn’t dare touch them. Had to have some common sense, right?
As I slouched at the counter, bored out of my mind, a low rumble jolted me upright.
I shot to my feet, heart racing. Was I just imagining things? This place wasn’t exactly an earthquake area.
A quick glance around showed nothing out of place in the shop—no wobbling shelves, no rattling mugs.
No way. The Witch School existed in its own pocket dimension. Even an earthquake shouldn’t reach here. Unless… some senior was out there throwing magical haymakers?
That was the only explanation I could muster for whatever that was.
I stepped outside and noticed other shopkeepers poking their heads out, looking as confused as I felt.
Okay, definitely not my imagination. Something was up.
I tilted my head back, scanning the sky. Blue skies, fluffy clouds—picture-perfect weather.
But then I spotted a few seniors zooming off on brooms, streaking upward. My envy spiked. Probably some incident at the academy.
What, like a gas explosion?
Nah, this was the Witch School. If anything, it’d be a mana explosion.
That rumble had been followed by a dull, heavy boom, like it came from the heavens.
I watched the broom-riding seniors, all heading the same way. They clearly knew more than I did.
Without hesitating, I flicked on my Psi-vision to get a better look.
Instantly, my perspective shifted. The academy’s streets seemed to overlap with another city—Magicaeopolis, the city that shares this dimension with the Witch School.
But what stole my breath, leaving me speechless, was the sky.
A massive, translucent dome encased the entire Witch School, blotting out the heavens. Beyond it, the outside world was drowned in blinding light.
Energy surged out there—wild, terrifying flows of transcendence energy I’d never encountered. Complex, overwhelming information pulsed through it, far beyond anything I’d ever sensed.
And it wasn’t just one force. This was a clash, with that dominant energy leading the charge. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs Novᴇ(l)Fɪre .ɴᴇt
The scene beyond the dome looked like Judgment Day.
Even the sun was affected, its warm, harmless rays twisting into a scorching, fiery orb.
A flood of unknown data from the inner world slammed into my mind, making everything I saw blur into a mosaic of unknowable shapes.
It was like when I was a baby, opening my eyes for the first time, full of hope, only to glimpse a terrifying, alien world.
I squeezed my eyes shut. This was something I’d never touched, a higher tier of transcendence power I couldn’t comprehend.
My brain couldn’t filter the chaos or translate it into anything I could process. All it could do was spit out that fuzzy mosaic in my vision.
If I didn’t shut off Psi-vision soon, I’d have a splitting headache all day.
I blinked it off and stared at the serene blue sky, feeling dazed. That apocalyptic scene lingered in my mind, overlapping with the sun above.
The aftershock kept jabbing at my nerves, nearly pushing me to the edge of a breakdown.
“What was that?” I muttered, pressing a hand to my chest, willing my heartbeat to slow.
Just when I thought I was safe without Psi-vision, the sky shifted again.
This time, I wasn’t even using it. Whatever was happening out there was bleeding into the academy.
And now, it was visible to the naked eye…