Chapter 39: Magic is the bond, generation after generation

“A relative of mine had a similar situation.”

Jiang Yao’s words carried weight, but Jiang Lingwei looked confused.

“Your what?”

“My family. My father.”

“Why don’t you tell me about yours?”

After a brief spark of hope, Jiang Yao’s face sank into despair and helplessness. “Magical girls can’t do that either…”

Her expression stabbed Jiang Lingwei’s heart.

She didn’t know what her daughter meant. In the next moment, she forgot what she’d asked and answered.

After the pang, confusion clouded her eyes again. “Sorry… did I say something?”

Why was Jiang Yao suddenly so sad?

It felt like waking from a dream, unable to recall its details.

Jiang Lingwei felt an inexplicable sorrow.

Was it her daughter’s sudden grief, or something from a forgotten dream?

“No, don’t worry. I just remembered something at home. It’s not you,” Jiang Yao said, forcing a strained smile.

“I see.” Jiang Lingwei nodded, continuing, “Why care about that kind of magic? From what I know, nothing in the world can do that.”

Jiang Yao flatly contradicted her. “It exists.”

“You’ve heard of it?” Jiang Lingwei asked.

“I…” Jiang Yao stared deeply at her.

She knew insisting would make [Aurora] forget again, caught in some unknown effect. Continuing was pointless, a waste of time.

“I haven’t heard of it either,” Jiang Yao backtracked. “I read about a weapon like that in a sci-fi novel, so I asked. Maybe magic could do it.”

She extended her hand, a small purple crystal forming in her palm. “This is almost creating something from nothing. If that’s possible, maybe sci-fi stuff can be magic too.”

“Oh, I get it.” Jiang Lingwei sighed in relief.

Kids her age loved novels. As a magical girl, Yaoyao might skip fantasy for sci-fi, which made sense.

Jiang Lingwei didn’t care if such magic existed—she knew it didn’t. Her concern was Jiang Yao’s mental and physical health.

Magical girls, influenced by magic, had purer but more fragile hearts. Jiang Yao’s dark form heightened the risk.

People said power wasn’t scary, only its wielder, and that power held no morality. True. Jiang Lingwei’s male soul found Jiang Yao’s armor and chainsaw sword badass.

But dark magic was dangerous, prone to twisting minds toward extremes. That was the issue.

Glancing at Jiang Yao’s light-magic crystal, Jiang Lingwei said, “That kind of magic is unlikely… No, it can’t exist.”

She wasn’t theoretical. She didn’t grasp magic’s mechanics or her teammates’ experiments, yet she outgrew them. Beyond her light magic affinity, she understood one truth early:

“What’s the nature of magic?”

“A… weapon? A tool for knowledge?” Jiang Yao hesitated.

“No, it’s ‘heart.’” Jiang Lingwei tapped her head. “Or our thoughts.”

“Magic comes from the Fairy Plane, where fairies are weak. To fight darkness, they contract with magical girls, sharing power.”

“But where does that power come from?”

Jiang Yao clenched her fist, sensing the answer would aid her long-held wish. “Isn’t it from the fairies?”

“No way.” Jiang Lingwei chuckled. “Fairies aren’t that strong. Sharing with a few would drain them dry.”

“Many fairies aren’t warriors at home, yet they create magical girls here.”

“The answer is ‘heart.’”

“Beyond techniques and talents, the human mind is magic’s source. Magic is the embodiment of spiritual strength.”

“The fairy contract is a ‘key,’ letting our hearts control magical energy, opening the magical girl door.”

“When I first heard that, I was shocked. To use erasure magic, what kind of ‘heart’ or will would it take?”

“But I’m confident it won’t fully work.”

Jiang Yao tensed, eyes gleaming. “Why?”

Jiang Lingwei’s gaze was firm. “No one can do that.”

“If someone never connected with anyone, their existence or erasure is meaningless—same as that magic. At most, it destroys the body and hides traces. But if they have family or friends, magic can’t erase them.”

“Magic is ‘the mind.’ How can the mind blind the heart?”

“I can’t do that.”

She pointed to herself. “Even memory erasure magic only seals moments or events deep in the heart.”

“Magic is a bond, connecting you to loved ones’ hearts. That bond can’t be fully severed.”

Teng!

Jiang Yao shot up. “Senior Aurora, is that true?!”

“Of course.” Jiang Lingwei blinked, surprised by her intensity.

Then, she frowned. Was Jiang Yao’s concern tied to her husband? No, that man?

‘Wait… who’s this about?’

‘What…?’

A fleeting thought vanished, leaving her disoriented.

As they stared in silence, each lost in their feelings—

Boom!

Something collapsed outside, the ground shaking.

Jiang Yao spun toward the door. Jiang Lingwei darted past her.

Bursting through Yaoguang Coffee’s “Closed” door, Jiang Lingwei panted, facing the pitch-black night.

Darkness swallowed everything. Distant city lights dimmed, blending with heavy clouds. No moonlight, no stars.

Rain poured, curtains of water blurring her vision.

A seven-story-tall black shadow lumbered toward the commercial street.

“Her mother’s stuff…” (damn)

“Oh, forgot the magical girl shield.” Jiang Lingwei wiped rain from her face, pink hair restored, gripping her magic staff. Gauging her remaining magic against the giant, she smirked. “Guess I’m really Ultraman now.”