In the blue sky above a stretch of rolling dunes somewhere on the continent of El Sallia, a girl riding a flying broom appeared. She was gazing ahead with excitement and anticipation, speeding forward at an incredible pace.
And who was this traveler, whose beauty and talent seemed to shine from afar, whose radiance put even the blazing sun in the sky to shame, and whose very presence made the sands below seethe with jealousy and give off astonishing heat?
That's right!
That person was none other than the Traveling Witch, me—Irena!
"..."
Braving the hot wind as she watched the scenery ahead, the endless yellow dunes, Irena—her long gray-white hair fluttering in the breeze, blue eyes gleaming, dressed in a black robe and a matching witch's hat, with a yellow bow tied over the white shirt beneath her collar and a bear-head brooch symbolizing a witch pinned to her left breast—couldn't help but praise herself in her heart.
Still, self-admiration aside, it really was hot. Her thin white shirt had grown damp and clung to the pale skin of her chest, even revealing the faint curve of her breasts.
And because she was speeding along on her broom, she had to hold the back of it with one hand while using the other to keep her witch's hat on. Otherwise, the gusts of wind would have blown it away.
Today, just like a certain troublesome little girl of a teacher who spent all her time wandering around, Irena hadn't gone to watch the competition. She'd flown her broom straight off the floating island, crossed the sea, and come to the desert region of this continent.
In truth, Irena had never been interested in the competition. Traveling, on the other hand, was something she was passionate about. That was the