The footsteps in the first-floor corridor ca to an abrupt stop.
Two black-robed figures walking within the hallway lifted their heads, warily gazing toward the second-floor stairway.
There, Bai Jingxuan lay motionless on the ground, curling up like a frightened turtle, unwilling to get up.
She knew full well that this was pointless. Whether she played dead or pretended to be oblivious, it wouldn’t change the fact that she had already been exposed. Yet, failing to escape in such a ridiculous manner still left her feeling bitter.
Of all tis, her condition just had to flare up now. How inconvenient.
Her affliction was a congenital disorder that even hospitals couldn’t diagnose. Its triggers were unknown, and there was no family history of similar cases—yet, for so reason, it had to manifest in her alone.
The symptoms were exactly as they were now: sudden loss of control over her muscles, accompanied by a sense of powerlessness, as if she were experiencing localized paralysis. Unlike traditional epilepsy, however, Bai Jingxuan remained fully conscious during these episodes, able to perceive ti and changes in her surroundings normally.
There was no pattern to the episodes, and no known dication could alleviate them. The only small rcy was that it only affected skeletal muscles and typically lasted only a few minutes. She rembered a caretaker once ntioning that if it had affected her heart, she likely wouldn’t have survived this long.
But right now, in this critical mont, it didn’t matter which part of her body was affected—the consequences were the sa.
The two black-robed figures who had heard the noise were already ascending the stairs, spotting her collapsed on the steps.
She even saw one of them take out a communication device and begin reporting their discovery.
She wanted to stand up and keep running, but her episode hadn’t passed yet—her legs wouldn’t respond for at least a few more minutes.
She tried using her hands to crawl, but there was no way she could move faster than two fully capable adults.
She was dood. Whatever these people had in store for her, it was surely nothing good. What a sha—she hadn’t even had the chance to beco a Magical Girl yet.
Bai Jingxuan sighed inwardly.
She stopped struggling, closed her eyes, and accepted her fate.
Then, a pair of hands slipped under her armpits and lifted her up high.
A mont later, she felt herself being hoisted sideways—soone had slung her over their shoulder.
“It’s too early to give up, isn’t it?!”
A trembling voice called out near her ear.
She opened her eyes, and what she saw was the corridor blurring past in rapid retreat—along with two black-robed figures chasing after them in the distance.
Wait… wasn’t she supposed to have been caught?
For a mont, Bai Jingxuan was stunned, unable to comprehend what was happening. She tried twisting her head to see who was carrying her. Even though she could only see the back of their head, the vaguely familiar figure was enough for her to recognize them.
“Uncle Tian?”
The man carrying her was Tian Sheng, a male caretaker. Though he wasn’t responsible for looking after her, they had interacted before and were sowhat acquainted.
But where had he co from? And why was he taking her away?
She didn’t voice these questions, so Tian Sheng had no way of knowing what she was thinking. Yet, by coincidence or fate, he was wondering the sa thing himself.
Why was he running away with this child? Why had he stepped out of that storage room?
Wouldn’t it have been smarter to stay hidden and wait for rescue? Why rush out to get himself killed?
He knew Bai Jingxuan and was familiar with her circumstances. He did feel sympathy for her. But not enough to risk his own life.
And yet, when he saw the girl lying motionless on the stairs, looking as if she had resigned herself to death, his body moved before his mind could stop it.
He had pushed open the door—left ajar to begin with—taken large strides forward, and before those terrorists could reach her, he had thrown her over his shoulder and started running down the second-floor corridor.
The black-robed figures were montarily stunned by his sudden appearance. But only for a mont. Without hesitation, they gave chase, initiating a pursuit through the hallway.
Tian Sheng wasn’t an athlete—his running speed was average at best, leaving him at a disadvantage.
The black-robed pursuers, on the other hand, were clearly trained. They were faster than Tian Sheng, and despite their late start, they were quickly closing the distance.
Even worse, when Tian Sheng risked a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw a faint purple-black glow flickering in one of their hands.
—A clear sign they were preparing to use a spell.
He couldn’t afford to stall any longer.
“Hold on tight! If you fall, I won’t have ti to pick you up!”
Ignoring Bai Jingxuan’s confused protests, he shouted the warning and loosened his grip on her shirt. Instead, he secured her by clamping her legs under his arm.
With his other hand, he reached into his chest pocket and pulled out two dice-like cubes.
These were his spell catalysts.
For an ordinary magic user, mastering and utilizing spells required three essential elents: magic power, soul, and a catalyst.
Magic power was the energy source for spells—activating and fueling a spell inscription to produce its effect.
The soul was the ans of control—guiding the spell with precision to ensure it functioned as intended.
The catalyst was the operational core—a device ticulously crafted by magic users, requiring extensive ti, magic power, and resources to inscribe spell formulas into a small, portable dium.
To compare it to modern firearms: magic power was the bullet, the soul was the hand pulling the trigger, and the catalyst was the gun. Without a proper catalyst, a magic user couldn’t fire their magic effectively.
Moreover, since catalysts were personally inscribed using one’s own magic power, they were highly attuned to their owner’s magical signature—rendering them useless to outsiders.
Catalysts also had limited durability. With repeated use, their efficiency degraded until they eventually broke down, requiring magic users to craft new ones.
This was one reason why magic users were relatively rare in modern society. Pursuing the study of spells required several difficult prerequisites:
A sufficiently strong innate magic capacity—which most ordinary people lacked.A high level of education—as understanding spell formulas required extensive theoretical knowledge.Access to resources—since knowledge of spellcraft wasn’t readily available to the public.Significant financial investnt—as acquiring the necessary magical materials to craft catalysts was costly.
Many magic users, unable to sustain their expensive craft through legal ans, ultimately turned to cri.
Tian Sheng considered himself a law-abiding citizen. He had purchased his materials using his hard-earned wages, which ant his progress had been slow. Even now, he had barely stepped into the Seeker tier—the very bottom rung of the magic user hierarchy.
In the three-tiered classification of magic users—Seeker, Practitioner, and Master—he was nothing more than a rookie.
Fighting those terrorists head-on was out of the question. His only option was to buy as much ti as possible.
And right now, he was about to use the one spell even a rookie like him could manage—
Magical Barrier.
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