Chapter 5: The Witch’s Heart and the Quest for Leadership

Qieluo gave us some time to familiarize ourselves with the phone’s operations and the function of academic credits. She also informed us that school announcements would be sent to our phones, reminding us to check them regularly.

These ‘announcements’ were essentially text messages, containing not only various precautions but also welcome messages for new students.

Naturally, they also included details like dormitory assignments.

“Oh, right,” Qieluo added. “I’ll send out a notification shortly. Please accept it so I can add you to the Class 14 group chat. From now on, any class announcements will be sent there. Of course, if you have anything to share, you can post it in the group as well, but remember, everyone in the class will see your messages.”

After Qieluo finished speaking, everyone in the class nodded in agreement. Though some didn’t fully grasp the implications, no one voiced any questions at that moment.

It was best to simply agree first.

As soon as I clicked ‘agree,’ I was added to an application resembling a group chat. The group name was straightforward: “Class 14 Group Chat,” devoid of any flashy titles.

Soon after, many others began to join the group.

“Oh, and there’s one more crucial matter,” Qieluo announced, picking up a dark gray crystal stone. The crystal, cut into an oval shape much like an egg, fit perfectly in her hand. “This is called a ‘Witch’s Heart.’ Don’t worry about it breaking; honestly, it wouldn’t even shatter if you died. However, you absolutely must safeguard it. It is the key to becoming a witch, and as its name suggests, it will be your lifeblood from now on. Although the contract states that no one is allowed to snatch another’s Witch’s Heart, you still need to protect it diligently. If you lose it… you’ll be expelled immediately. Understood?”

“Understood,” the entire class responded in unison.

After Teacher Qieluo finished speaking, everyone instinctively picked up their Witch’s Heart, as if fearing they might misplace it.

“The Witch’s Heart is essential for your future initiation as a witch, serving also as a vessel for storing magic. The very nature of magic dictates that your bodies cannot withstand such high-level energy before you become witches. Therefore, it acts as an external magical organ for you. Keep it safe. When you have the chance, you should process it into a portable item, whether that means embedding it as a gem in an artifact or wearing it as a pendant—it’s entirely up to you. My sole requirement is that you do not lose it.”

Having delivered her instructions, Qieluo moved to the front of the podium, appearing ready to embark on another task.

We, too, focused our attention, not daring to let our minds wander.

“Next, we need to… well, select a class president,” Qieluo continued. “The class president is responsible for every student, coordinating all class members, assisting me in managing the class, and handling various administrative affairs. In essence, it’s a leadership role. If the workload becomes too much, they can appoint up to two vice presidents to assist them.”

As Qieluo spoke, she observed the students below. Many seemed uninterested, with only a few showing any inclination. After all, the duties of a class president were substantial and could potentially impact one’s own studies, making it a role few were keen on, apart from those with an inherent pursuit of authority.

However, Qieluo wasn’t finished. “The elected class president will receive an additional 5,000 academic credit *quota*,” she clarified, “not just simple academic credits.”

At the mention of academic credits, the class immediately buzzed with renewed interest.

This, of course, did not include me. I had no fondness for accumulating such power; in my previous life, I had always avoided it. Furthermore, I wasn’t particularly skilled at interacting with people. Even the incentive of academic credits couldn’t sway me.

“As for the vice presidents… they won’t receive an additional quota,” Qieluo explained. “If needed, they can coordinate with the class president to allocate a portion from the president’s 5,000 quota. Besides the class president, there will also be three course representatives, each responsible for assisting their respective teachers with instructional tasks, and they will receive a 1,000 credit quota.”

Qieluo gazed at the numerous eager faces in the class, a look of satisfaction gracing her features. She believed that only through competition could progress be ensured; a class that was too peaceful would become complacent.

Incidentally, she also noted down the students who showed little interest. These individuals, lacking a competitive spirit, were highly likely to become a drag on the class later on. She would need to find a way to give them extra guidance—a thought she naturally kept to herself, making a mental note for future action.

“Let’s begin with the class president election,” Qieluo announced. “Students who are interested… hmm… please type ‘1’ in the group chat. Then, in the order your messages appear, come up to the podium to deliver your speech. You don’t need to say too much; anything that showcases your personal charm and persuades others is acceptable. The final result will be determined by an anonymous vote from all students.” After speaking, Qieluo stepped down from the podium and stood to the side, phone in hand, watching to see who would be the first lucky candidate.

From my seat, I also felt a surge of anticipation. Since I wasn’t participating, I naturally enjoyed watching the spectacle unfold without any personal stake.

Almost instantly, a flurry of messages appeared in the group chat. There were only 47 students in the class, yet nearly half of them had chosen to run for class president.

This surprised me, as in the past, when it came to selecting class representatives, there was usually very little interest.

As I observed the messages and their corresponding avatars in the group, I noticed that many boys had also chosen to run, which was truly unexpected.

Previously, those boys had only shown interest in roles like sports commissioner.

Perhaps this was simply a cultural difference between various races.

For a leadership position, one that came with real power and benefits, why wouldn’t they strive for it?

Perhaps I was the only one content to simply let things be.

Furthermore, I spotted a familiar name among the candidates: Kereiya.

I glanced at my elf deskmate. Would this seemingly quiet elf also contend for such a position?

I had always assumed elves were more inclined to be desireless and uncompetitive. Then again, weren’t elves also known for their pride?

Regardless of the reason, she was indeed running for class president. ‘I hope she doesn’t succeed,’ I thought. ‘Otherwise, I’ll feel immense pressure.’

“Nijie,” Qieluo called out, scanning the group messages. “Nijie is first. Why no movement? Do I need to invite you up?” She had already located the boy named Nijie in the classroom.

Startled by the sudden call of his name, the boy named Nijie visibly froze, then rose to his feet, a look of bewilderment on his face.

From my vantage point, I watched the boy, who was slightly taller than me. He had a pair of fluffy, folded ears atop his head. Only when he nervously approached the podium did I notice he also possessed a tail.

‘Could this be a Canine-kin?’ I wondered.

I continued to ponder, for there were many demi-humans in the class, and I wasn’t always sure if their features aligned with the animals I knew.

Seeing his nervous demeanor, I couldn’t help but wonder how he dared to be the first to contend for class president.

‘Did he click it out of sheer curiosity?’ I mused. His flustered appearance was somewhat amusing.

He stood on the podium, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Don’t just stand there,” Qieluo said, her tone indicating her clear dissatisfaction with the student. “Don’t know what to say? Start with an introduction, then list some of your strengths. If you can’t manage that, just introduce yourself and step down. Don’t waste our time.”

“Um… my name is Nijie,” he stammered, “and I’m from the Sacred Canine tribe. My world was… consumed by war. There’s not much to say about that, haha. My strength… I guess I have a very keen sense of smell. Actually, most branches of the Canine tribe are pretty similar. Our Sacred Canine tribe isn’t an extraordinary race…”

As Nijie’s speech faltered, the atmosphere in the class seemed to ease slightly. However, many students wore expressions of disdain, likely those who genuinely aspired to be class president. They naturally scoffed at such a lackluster presentation.