[Location]: Dorm 302 · Master Bedroom -> Gothic Main Hall
Hathaway woke up feeling... Invincible.
The [Deep Sea Ice Moon Sugar] had done its job perfectly, granting her fourteen hours of comatose-level deep sleep. The [Dragon Egg Cocktail] had filled every cell in her body with warm, vibrant mana.
She stretched her limbs, feeling her joints pop satisfyingly. Her skin felt hydrated and bouncy, her mind was crystal clear, and her mana circuits were humming with power. It was the best sleep she had experienced in two lives.
"Ah... Refreshed," she murmured, sitting up and basking in the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains.
Then, her brain finished its boot sequence.
Loading memory logs...
Image 1: Slamming the credit card. "I am a Ludwig!" (Pride: 100%)
Image 2: Holding a warm hand in the carriage. Leaning close. (Intimacy: 100%)
Image 3: Whispering "Let's go home, Vicky."
Image 4: The Rejection.
Hathaway froze.
The memory hit her like a physical slap.
She remembered Victoria stiffening. She remembered the temperature dropping. She remembered the cool, calm voice correcting her:
“You are getting ahead of yourself. That name is not for you to use.”
The "Invincible" buff was instantly overwritten by the [Critical Emotional Damage] debuff.
Her face exploded into heat, turning redder than a boiled lobster.
She rejected it.
She literally told me I wasn't close enough to call her that.
I, a descendant of the Golden Lion—a lineage known for its unyielding pride and dominance—clung to her like a sticky slime and crossed a social boundary, then got politely but firmly shut down by the Ice Queen.
"NOOOOOO—"
Hathaway grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it, letting out a silent, soul-shattering scream. She kicked her legs under the silk duvet, thrashing around like a fish on dry land.
I am a clown.
I am the entire circus.
How am I supposed to face her? She probably thinks I'm some presumptuous, clingy drunkard who doesn't know her place. Should I transfer schools? Is it too late to apply for a Exchange Program?
She wallowed in pure, unadulterated shame for five minutes.
But she couldn't stay in bed forever. Her body felt too energetic.
However, along with the energy came a strange sensation.
Her lower abdomen felt... heavy.
It wasn't pain. It was a dense, warm feeling of fullness, like a glowing sphere of mana was resting at the bottom of her stomach, slowly migrating downwards.
Is this... mana saturation?
Did I drink too much Dragon Egg Cocktail?
Holding her stomach, Hathaway climbed out of bed. She checked the mirror—her reflection was glowing with health, but her expression looked like she was going to her own execution.
She put on her slippers and waddled out of the room, trying to minimize the weird pressure in her belly.
Creeaaak—
She pushed open the heavy oak door.
Below lay the massive Gothic Main Hall of Dorm 302.
The curtains were drawn, blocking out the harsh afternoon sun. A dozen Necrotic Will-o'-the-Wisps floated lazily in the air, casting a cool, soothing blue light. The air smelled of expensive incense and calming tea.
As Hathaway walked down, one of the Will-o'-the-Wisps drifted closer.
Unlike normal elemental lights, these Necrotic Wisps had low-level sentience. They were basically the spiritual residue of ancient gossips.
It bobbed around Hathaway’s flushed face, buzzing with a sound that suspiciously resembled a giggle.
Bzzzt? (Embarrassed?)
Bzzzt-zzzt! (She got rejected!)
"Shut up," Hathaway hissed at the ball of gas, swatting it away.
The Wisp dodged effortlessly, turning a mocking shade of bright pink to match her face. It zipped back to its friends, and suddenly, all twelve Wisps turned pink, bobbing up and down in a silent chorus of humiliation.
Great. Even the lighting fixtures are bullying me.
Hathaway drifted down the stairs like a ghost avoiding exorcism.
On the high-backed velvet armchair in the center of the hall, Victoria was sitting.
She was dressed in a crisp, tailored white silk shirt and dark trousers, looking irritatingly elegant.
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A thick, ancient spellbook lay open on her lap. She sat with her eyes closed, her head tilted slightly, her slender fingertips gliding across the textured runes on the page, "reading" the mana flow directly through touch.
Hearing Hathaway's shuffling footsteps, Victoria didn't open her eyes.
"Good afternoon, 'Head of the Ludwig Family'," her voice was calm, carrying a faint, amused rhythm. "You slept for fourteen hours. The Ice Moon Sugar works well, doesn't it?"
Hathaway gripped the railing, her knuckles white.
Victoria didn't mention the nickname.
She didn't mention the rejection.
It was a mercy. But to Hathaway's guilty conscience, this Diplomatic Silence was almost more terrifying.
"I... The sleep was efficient." Hathaway tried to sound professional, but her voice cracked. She walked stiffly towards the sofa, avoiding eye contact. "My mental state has... fully recovered."
"I am glad to hear that," Victoria's finger turned a page, the sound loud in the quiet hall.
Hathaway sat down gingerly.
She's ignoring it.
She's being polite.
Sweet mother of mana, she definitely remembers.
"Of course."
Victoria finally stopped reading. She opened her eyes—those beautiful, unfocused azure orbs sweeping over Hathaway.
She scanned Hathaway from head to toe, her gaze clinical and assessing.
"You look healthy. Your mana is overflowing."
"Yeah, about that..."
Hathaway clutched her stomach, her brow furrowing. The heavy sensation suddenly spiked. It wasn't painful, but it was an overwhelming urge to release something.
"Victoria... I feel weird. My stomach feels heavy. Is it a side effect?"
Victoria glanced at Hathaway's abdomen, her gaze clinical.
"Relax. It is not a side effect. It is a biological function."
"You consumed high-concentration Dragon Magic Factors last night. Your body cannot absorb all of it. As a mature Witch, your system is packaging the excess mana and nutrition for excretion. It is a standard Mana Metabolism cycle."
"Metabolism? You mean I need to use the bathroom?"
"No," Victoria said calmly. "Just push."
"Push?" Hathaway blinked. "Push wha—"
The pressure vanished instantly, replaced by a warm, incredibly comfortable sense of emptiness.
Pop.
It was a soft, smooth sound.
Something warm and round slid out from beneath her silk skirt. It rolled onto the dark velvet cushion of the sofa.
Boing. Boing.
It bounced twice with surprising elasticity before settling.
The room fell into dead silence.
The only sound was the crackle of the blue ghost fires.
Hathaway slowly propped herself up.
She looked down.
Lying on the black velvet was an Egg.
It was about the size of a goose egg, but perfectly spherical. The shell was pristine white, crystalline and semi-transparent, glowing with a soft, pearlescent luster. Under the blue light of the Will-o'-the-Wisps, faint, beautiful mana cloud patterns swirled beneath the shell surface.
It didn't look biological. It looked like a handcrafted gem.
Hathaway reached out with trembling hands and picked it up. It was warm and smooth as jade.
"I... I really laid an egg..."
Although she knew from biology class that Witches were oviparous, seeing it happen to herself was a surreal experience.
She held it up to the light, squinting.
Through the semi-transparent shell, she could see a swirling core of concentrated energy.
Wait, Hathaway thought, her heartbeat accelerating.
Look at this density. Look at this rune structure.
In those novels I read on Earth, when the protagonist lays an egg, it's usually a Divine Beast or a Second Avatar.
Could this be... a condensed Mana Essence? Or maybe a 'Void Pearl' that can enhance meditation speed by 500%? If I auction this at the Market, surely collectors would pay millions for a 'Pureblood Ludwig Origin Essence'.
This isn't waste; this is Liquid Gold solidified!
"Look at this," Hathaway whispered, her eyes widening. She held it up to the light. "Look at the luster. It's flawless..."
"Oh." Victoria picked up her tea cup, completely unimpressed. "Congratulations on your functional reproductive system. The shell has a high sheen, which indicates you have been eating too well lately. Excess nutrition."
Hathaway cradled the warm egg, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and pride.
I made this.
It came out of me.
It's so pretty.
"Can this... be sold?" Hathaway asked, her mind immediately jumping to economics. "It's a Ludwig Egg, after all. Pure mana condensation. Does it have collector's value? Like 'The Crimson Witch's Debut'?"
Victoria ruthlessly shattered the fantasy.
"Hathaway, that is a White Egg. Its academic definition is 'Unfertilized Mana Kidney Stone.' It is basically solidified magical waste."
Victoria recited the market data from memory:
"The school power plant has a uniform purchase price for these. 3 Gold Solars per egg."
Hathaway's hand stiffened.
"Three... Solars?"
"Correct," Victoria nodded. "That is roughly enough to buy a 1.5-liter bottle of 'Mana Sugarcane Juice' from the vending machine downstairs. Low mana content, but high volume. Good for hydration."
Hathaway looked at the beautiful, glowing gem in her hand.
I spent 7,400 Solars last night.
And my body metabolized that fortune into... a 3-Solar kidney stone.
The Return on Investment (ROI) is -99.96%.
"What else can I do with it?" Hathaway asked weakly.
"It acts as a disposable battery for low-level alchemy," Victoria suggested helpfuly. "Or, if you are hungry, you can scramble it with black pepper and sea salt. The texture is like jelly. High protein, low fat, good for the skin."
Hathaway stared at the egg.
Eat it?
I may be poor, but I haven't fallen low enough to eat my own egg!
She sighed, defeated, and placed the 3-Solar white egg on the armrest.
Fine. I'll keep it as a souvenir. A reminder of my shame.
Just then, the silence was broken.
Hathaway's mag-phone on the coffee table began to vibrate violently, emitting a piercing, air-raid siren ringtone.
[Video Call Request: Mama Anna]
[Note: Calling at this hour usually means she wants to show off a new luxury purchase.]
Crap!
Hathaway looked at the glowing white egg on the armrest.
If Mama Anna sees this, she will scream. Then she will take screenshots. Then she will frame those screenshots and hang them in the living room titled "Hathaway's First Egg."
Must. Hide. The. Evidence.
Hathaway panicked. She looked around. No pockets in her silk pajamas.
She grabbed a velvet cushion and shoved the 3-Solar kidney stone underneath it.
"Stay there," she whispered to the egg. "Don't roll. Don't hatch. Don't exist."
She quickly smoothed out her hair, slapped her cheeks to chase away the 'Post-Partum' flush, and put on her professional 'Good Daughter' smile.
Beep.
Hathaway sat on the black velvet sofa, tapped the floating screen.
Hummm—
The holographic projection expanded.
The gloomy, blue-lit gothic atmosphere of Dorm 302 was instantly overwritten by Blinding Sunlight.
Hathaway hissed like a vampire exposed to UV rays, shielding her eyes.
When her vision adjusted, she realized the familiar Ludwig living room—the one with the tasteful obsidian floors and deep crimson velvet—was gone.
It had been erased.
Replacing it was a scene that looked like the VIP lounge of the Atlantis Royal Palace.
The walls were lined with living Luminescent Coral that pulsed with a gentle rhythm. The floor had been converted into a suspended crystal deck. Beneath the transparent surface, warm spring water flowed constantly, circulating through a complex system of rune-inscribed pipes.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Hathaway saw the backyard.
It was raining.
But it wasn't a natural rain. The clouds were swirling in an unnatural, geometric spiral.
A figure was floating in the sky above the Ludwig estate. She wore a standard contractor's jumpsuit, but the mana radiating from her distorted the air like a mirage.
Hathaway squinted. Who is that? An intruder?
The figure waved a hand casually.
Boom.
A massive fireball, the size of a carriage, smashed into the wet ground.
Sizzle.
The heavy rain immediately filled the scorching crater, creating an explosion of steam.
Splash.
With another wave, millions of heating pebbles poured from the void, turning the craters into a chain of steaming Artificial Arctic Hot Springs.
The figure turned slightly.
Hathaway caught a glimpse of her eyes.
Azure irises wrapping around cracked ice, with a freezing vortex swirling deep within the pupils.
The Eye of Eternal Frost.
A Siren Witch.
Hathaway’s jaw dropped.
Did we get invaded by Marenia (District 9)?
Or did Mom just buy a glacier?