Chapter 60: Polaris’s Concept and Abyss’s Reflection

As the deathly aura surged toward Polaris and the others, Yuehua summoned her Moon Spear, thrusting it into the ground before Polaris.
The spear, infused with Yuehua’s authority, activated:

Authority: Moon · Concealment · Void Domain

A barrier of moonlight instantly enveloped Polaris, Jin Yan, and Flash.
Just as Yuehua began to relax, she froze, stunned by what she saw.

The black deathly aura pierced straight through the moonlight barrier.

Damn it!

The priority of this deathly aura matches my Concealment authority—maybe even surpasses it.

In a split second, Yuehua analyzed the aura, flashing to Polaris’s side to pull her and her teammates to safety.

But at that moment, Polaris, caught off guard by the approaching aura, instinctively summoned several glowing celestial bodies orbiting her like stars guarding a sun.

One of these bodies touched the deathly aura and, like a mythical giant drinking a river dry, devoured it entirely.
The glowing orb turned pitch black, its light melting like cream to form an accretion disk around it.

Transformed into a black star, its gravitational pull intensified, voraciously sucking in the training field’s air.
The resulting inflow tugged at the other magical girls, though Polaris herself seemed unaffected.

“Polaris, snap out of it!” Yuehua shouted.

Entranced by the sight of her star devouring the aura, Polaris jolted back to reality at Yuehua’s call.
The orbiting stars vanished as suddenly as they appeared.

“Uh… Teacher?” Polaris said, dazed.

“I think I found my concept.”

“Hold that thought. Let me check your body first,” Yuehua interrupted, stepping quickly to Polaris’s side and taking her hand to examine her.

Mana circuits intact, mental state stable, no physical injuries—everything seemed fine.

Reflecting on the celestial bodies that appeared around Polaris, Yuehua pieced together her concept.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she said, “Little Polaris, you’re fine. What were you going to say?”

“Teacher, I think my concept is ‘Star,’” Polaris said, meeting Yuehua’s blue eyes.

“I figured as much when you instinctively summoned those celestial bodies,” Yuehua said, patting Polaris’s head.

“You’ve got great potential, Little Polaris.”

Her gaze shifted to Abyss, who approached with a grim expression, her scythe retracted, head bowed.

“Teacher…” Abyss said, her voice heavy.

“It’s my fault. I almost… hurt Polaris and the others.”

Yuehua wasn’t angry—how could she be?
Accidents were common when new magical girls tested their powers.
No one was hurt, which was fortunate.

With Polaris as her precious daughter and Abyss as her prized student, Yuehua couldn’t bear to scold either.
They were both dear to her.

But to ease Abyss’s heavy sense of responsibility, Yuehua composed herself and said, “You did lose control of your power…”

Abyss’s head dipped lower.

“But for a newly awakened magical girl, it’s understandable.”

“Just make sure to familiarize yourself with your power moving forward.”

“Don’t make this mistake again.”

Lifting Abyss’s face with both hands, Yuehua gazed into her guilt-ridden green eyes and the strand of silver-gray hair falling over her face.
Smiling, she tapped Abyss’s forehead lightly with two fingers, producing a crisp sound.

Nice forehead.

“That’s your punishment,” Yuehua said with a laugh, finding Abyss’s guilty expression—much like Polaris’s—adorably against the rules.

“Now, let’s talk about your ‘Death’ concept,” Yuehua said to Abyss.

“Does your deathly aura only reap souls?”
She was curious.
A concept as extraordinary as ‘Death’ should have extended abilities, like decay or annihilation.

“Only souls, Teacher,” Abyss replied.

Only souls?
Perhaps the full scope would reveal itself as Abyss grew stronger.

Yuehua grew curious about why Abyss’s aura had spiraled out of control.
As a former Tier-Seven mage, Abyss should have basic control over her abilities.
Her recent awakening as a magical girl was a trigger, not the root cause.

“When your aura went out of control, did you feel anything else?” Yuehua asked.

“Like something pulling you?”

Abyss reflected on the sensation, then nodded firmly.
“Yes, Teacher.”

“And it felt like the aura was drawn toward Polaris.”

In Abyss’s recollection, after reaping the beast’s soul, her deathly aura seemed to gain a will of its own, surging toward Polaris.
During the process, she sensed an emotion from the aura—a desire to merge with Polaris.

“Attraction…” Yuehua murmured, piecing it together.
The phenomenon likely stemmed from Polaris’s ‘Star’ concept and the celestial bodies that appeared when the aura approached.

“Polaris, come here,” Yuehua beckoned.

Polaris jogged over, standing obediently before her.

“Can you summon those celestial bodies again?” Yuehua asked.

“I’ll try, Teacher,” Polaris said, though she doubted herself.
Instinct and conscious control were worlds apart.

Closing her eyes, Polaris tried to recapture the earlier sensation.

She recalled the deathly aura—the brush of death, the pain of her soul nearly being torn away.

But then, she saw the birth of a star.

Her purple eyes began to glow.

A star collapsed, warping time and space, devouring light—a black hole was born.

Polaris’s body trembled uncontrollably.
Instinctively raising her right hand, the death-swallowing Death Star materialized in her grasp.