Ch. 78 - Time to Get a Flying License!

After Bai Yu left, I followed the information printed on her identity card and headed to the designated place.

I figured—if I didn’t at least try, I’d just waste the whole afternoon anyway.

The Witch School Flight License Training Club.

Yep, you heard that right. A club.

According to the Academy database, it was an open organization—run not by students, but by veteran flyers and certified instructors.

They taught everything from hands-on flight control to the theoretical exams needed for certification.

Once you pass the written tests, they’ll submit your results to the Academy and help you apply for the official flight assessment.

That basically meant… this wasn’t just some casual after-school club.

The Academy’s internal system had all sorts of clubs listed, and sure enough, I found the Flight License Training Club right there. The page had a detailed description, plus a few rival clubs that seemed to compete with it—so apparently, this wasn’t the only flight group on campus.

After logging in with the information from my ID card, the interface opened up smoothly.

Below it were all the rules and requirements for getting a flight license—along with something called scenario simulations. Basically… practice questions.

Great. So this was literally a magic version of a driver’s test.

...

After hopping off the campus shuttle, I followed the signs straight to the club’s training grounds.

Even the bus stop was named after the club itself—that alone told me this place had history.

From a distance, I could already see people flying on broomsticks above the open field.

Still, it was pretty organized overall.

If this were my old world, the ones doing loops midair would be the same kind of lunatics who crashed through traffic cones in a student driver car.

No doubt, anyone who tried that here would get scolded by one of the upperclassmen in charge.

And speaking of them—most people still training for their flight license around this time of year were likely just a few years older than me. The senior members of this club probably had no trouble keeping order.

I clutched my ID card nervously. I wasn’t sure if I’d need it, but at least it made me look like I belonged.

If I walked in acting like I knew everything, I’d just embarrass myself.

Better to play the clueless freshman.

After all, veterans love helping newbies.

But they can’t help you if you don’t look like one, right?

“Welcome to the Witch School Flight License Training Club! Oh? A freshman?”

As soon as I stepped inside, a cheerful senior at the front desk greeted me. She looked like she’d been waiting all day for someone to show up—her eyes practically lit up the moment she saw me.

“Yes, Senior~ It’s my first time here, and I’m not really sure what to do…”

I lowered my head slightly, clutching my card with both hands, and tried to sound as shy as possible.

“Oh, I see~”

Her smile brightened instantly. Clearly, that “senior” had hit the right spot. She straightened up, suddenly full of enthusiasm—a completely different attitude from the cool, distant tone most receptionists had during freshman orientation.

Maybe this kind of warm welcome was rare because the club didn’t usually get newcomers, especially before the semester officially started.

“No worries! I’ll help you get started,” she said warmly, motioning for me to follow her. “I noticed you already have a student ID for our club. Did someone help you register?”

“I think so. Another senior handled it for me,” I replied, glancing down at my card and pretending to be a little lost.

“Oh? So you’ve got connections!” The receptionist grinned knowingly. “Let me check for you. If she’s already set everything up, we can assign you a coach and get your lessons started today!”

She quickly turned back to her desk and started typing on her computer.

To call it a computer would be generous—this thing was clearly magic-powered. It looked like something halfway between a spellbook and a touchscreen terminal, humming softly with arcane energy.

Whatever it was, it made the tech I used in my old world feel ancient.

“Here, hand me your ID card,” the receptionist said. “I’ll pull up your file.”

“Okay, here.”

I passed it over and watched as she tapped rapidly on the glowing runes floating above the console.

The display responded with elegant symbols and shifting lines of light—data input, most likely. Everything looked surprisingly formal and systematic.

“Oh, looks like your paperwork’s all set. Even your instructor’s been assigned.” She looked up from the screen with a bright smile. “Perfect! That makes things easy. Come with me—I’ll take you to meet your coach.”

Before I could reply, she grabbed my wrist and led me deeper into the facility.

The moment I stepped through the next archway, I realized the training field was way bigger than it looked from the outside.

With my Psi-vision active, I could faintly sense the boundaries of a massive spatial spell—an illusion that expanded the interior far beyond its physical limits.

From outside, it probably looked like a normal field; from within, it stretched on like an arena built inside a pocket dimension.

“Pretty amazing, right?” the senior said with a grin. “It’s a lot larger inside. You’ll be training here from now on. The entire place is equipped with enchantments to help you practice safely.”

As we walked, she continued to explain.

“There are two parts to earning a flight license. The theory test, which we handle here in the club, and the practical exam, which is the Academy’s official flight test. Pass both, and you’ll get your Witch School license.”

She gave me a knowing look. “You’ve already logged into our system earlier, right? That’s where you’ll study the rules and theory. You don’t need me to show you where everything is—you’ve probably already seen the study modules.”

“Yeah, I saw them,” I admitted with a small nod.

“Good! Now, as for the hands-on side, there are five main training modules.”

She began pointing around the field as we walked.

“The first is basic low-altitude flight—just straight-line gliding. Then there’s high-altitude flight, which helps you overcome vertigo or other physiological limits. If you skip that one, your final license will have a height restriction.”

I followed her gaze toward a group of students hovering just a few feet off the ground—their broom bristles practically brushing the grass.

“After that comes variable-speed flight, altitude shift maneuvers, arc-flight, and finally, real-scenario flight—that’s the last and hardest one. You’ll have to handle real-world conditions on your own, reacting to unexpected situations and showing both skill and theoretical knowledge.”

She paused to let that sink in, then added quickly, “But don’t worry about safety! During any high-risk session, your instructor will cast a protective shield spell around you. If they don’t, feel free to remind them—it’s not that they forgot, just that some drills are considered safe enough not to need it.”

She hesitated, then added with an awkward laugh, “I mean, yeah, they’re not forgetting, trust me. Just… being confident in you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Got it.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” she said as we stopped in front of a line of brooms. “The final flight test—the real-world one—is also the part where most students fail. So… maybe don’t underestimate it.”

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