Chapter 13: The Magic Girl’s Transformation and the Hero’s Dream

“Awoo—”

It was a little-known fact that the humanoid creature wailing before Su Qingyao was, in fact, human, not an upright husky.

“Ugh, please stop howling for now, Senior.”

Seated opposite Luzhichuan, who clutched his wound, was a short-haired youth whose locks nearly brushed his earlobes.

His brown eyes held a mixture of resignation and an undefinable emotion.

Su Qingyao found it truly difficult to reconcile the image of Luzhichuan—the cheerful, energetic heart of their club, radiating warmth and leadership—with this… utterly unhinged private persona.

“Alas, it truly aches!”

Luzhichuan was on the verge of rolling on the ground and flailing his limbs.

A sharp gash stretched from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hip, leaving no doubt as to the immense size of the weapon that had inflicted such damage.

Yet, both of them recalled that the true extent of Luzhichuan’s injury in that battle had been caused by nothing more than a beast’s pinky fingernail.

Had it not been for their chance encounter and subsequent year of forced hiding, which at least granted them the ability to ‘evade,’ things would have been far worse.

The future Lord Hero, it seemed, would have met an untimely end.

Oh, and a minor detail.

For both Luzhichuan and Su Qingyao, their supernatural abilities were relatively new acquisitions.

“Given your healing abilities, Senior, shouldn’t the wound close up quite quickly?”

Su Qingyao cautiously sprinkled disinfectant powder onto Luzhichuan’s wound, eliciting a wince and a grimace from the latter:

“But, ugh, it genuinely hurts, alright?”

“Senior, you know the nature of my abilities; while they’re necessary in battle, I prefer to use them sparingly in daily life.”

Recalling his own supernatural ability, which bordered on black humor, Su Qingyao’s hand trembled involuntarily as he applied the medicine.

“Oh my, oh my, Miss Magic Girl Su Qingyao!”

Luzhichuan, with his impish grin, simply couldn’t resist poking at a sore spot.

It was precisely this amusing transformation ability that forced him to conceal his true identity and pose as a mere sidekick to the great Lord Savior.

“Senior Luzhichuan, if you keep saying that, I—I’ll have to switch to a different medicine!”

“Gulp—” Su Qingyao had no interest in hearing whether Senior Luzhichuan uttered another word.

‘Ah,’ the youth sighed inwardly.

“Senior, I’m about to transform. Could you please turn away?”

Though there was no risk of exposure by being watched, the thought of being scrutinized by another male while completely vulnerable filled him with an inexplicable sense of shame.

“Huh? Oh, sure!”

Luzhichuan, however, took it in stride, dutifully turning his back, only to accidentally pull at his wound and wince in pain.

“Hiss—whoosh.”

Su Qingyao took a deep breath, overcoming his internal resistance.

He retrieved the pendant hidden beneath his shirt, gripped it tightly in his palm, then pushed it forward, softly calling out:

“Transform!”

The ambient noise around Su Qingyao abruptly faded.

The world seemed to fall silent, quiet enough for him to hear his own heartbeat, until the pendant in his hand emitted a crisp, melodious chime.

“Ding-a-ling.”

A dazzling halo of light burst forth from his hand, transforming into a kaleidoscope of colors that cascaded from his palm, as if the youth—no, the maiden—were cupping a spring of vibrant hues.

“Oh, Prosthea, who dwells deep within the heart—”

The brilliant light streaming through her fingers dripped onto the ground, quickly seeping into the floorboards.

Then, upon the stone tiles, countless flowers of various shapes, unknown to Su Qingyao, began to grow and bloom.

A kaleidoscopic flowerbed blossomed beneath the maiden’s feet.

Standing amidst the vibrant blooms, a faint ribbon of light gradually ascended from the maiden’s ankles to her waistband.

“Noble Eye of Many Hearts, Light of All Dreams, please gaze upon me and bless me to fulfill the covenant you observe!”

The transformation continued; the light ribbon steadily expanded and climbed, weaving a form-fitting cocoon of light around the maiden’s torso, below her chest.

“Snap.” A soft crackle echoed.

“Having witnessed betrayal and sorrow, I now scatter brilliance and vitality—”

A pristine white Lolita-style gown unfurled its skirt like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, its hem adorned with intricate, ethereal patterns and inlaid with predominantly blue and gold motifs and jewels.

An hourglass-shaped silver pendant, set with two opposing emerald-green gems, graced Su Qingyao’s chest.

“Magic Girl Shirina!”

Finally, the brilliance settled amidst Su Qingyao’s now snow-white hair, crowning the maiden with an exquisitely detailed, intricately patterned white tiara.

“I present myself.”

As the maiden softly finished, Luzhichuan eagerly spun around, making no attempt to conceal his thorough appraisal of her.

“How utterly crass, Senior~”

This made Su Qingyao’s cheeks flush faintly.

“We’re like brothers; what’s wrong with a little look?”

Luzhichuan, with an air of righteous indignation, acting as if a clear conscience feared no accusation, declared, “Not only will I look, but I’ll also sniff!”

He didn’t step closer, merely fanning the air towards his nose with his hand, then sniffing intently.

“Ah, ahhh!”

Infuriated, Su Qingyao stamped her leather-shod foot twice. “If you keep this up, I’ll revert right now, and Senior, you can rely on self-healing!”

“…”

‘Now he’s sitting as still as a great Buddha, Senior,’ she thought.

Su Qingyao took a breath, seemingly striving to grow accustomed to this new form while engaging in a calm exchange with her senior.

“Alright,” Su Qingyao took another deep breath, “Extend your hand. I’ll see if I can heal you.”

“Okay!”

ᕕ(◠ڼ◠)ᕗ

The ‘Great Buddha’ Luzhichuan’s dignified facade instantly crumbled, and he stepped forward, extending his hand.

“Sigh.” Su Qingyao let out a soft sigh.

Ultimately, she took his hand.

‘It felt a bit like shaking paws with a large dog,’ she mused.

Gathering her thoughts.

Su Qingyao attuned herself to her magic core, attempting to select an ability suitable for Luzhichuan’s current wound from the myriad complex powers bestowed upon her.

As the maiden slowly closed her eyes and delved deeper into her consciousness, Luzhichuan quieted, meticulously observing every detail of her face.

After a few moments, Luzhichuan felt a faint warmth bloom in his chest—a sight of luminous green motes of light gradually gathering around the wound, penetrating the gauze.

He comfortably squinted his eyes.

When Luzhichuan snapped out of his warm reverie, he was startled to notice the maiden staring intensely at him.

“What are you thinking about, Senior?”

“What name to give it.”

“What?!” The maiden’s voice rose an octave.

“Uh, it’s the name for the future safe zone we’re building.”

“Oh, that’s more like it.”

“So, Senior, have you thought of a name yet?”

“Hmm… I think we could call it Qingyao, ow!”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Senior.”

“Oh, come on, it was just a joke!”

“What do you think of the name ‘City of Hope’? It’s simple, clear, and its meaning is immediately obvious.”

“…I should probably remind you, Senior,”

“What we’re building is merely a temporary safe zone the size of a middle school. Aren’t you afraid of choking on water by giving it such a grand name?”

“It will be built.”

“What?”

“I said, it *will* be built!”

“One day, we will establish a true safe zone from the ruins of the city, and then we’ll call it ‘City of Hope’.”

“Qingyao, what do you think?”

“Well, I think considering that is a bit premature, Senior.”

“Let’s focus on taking care of these people outside first, shall we? Don’t forget, they’re calling you the Lord Savior, Senior Luzhichuan~”

“That title is too heavy; I’ll shake it off eventually.”

“When the time comes, what do you say I go by ‘Hero’?”

“Sounds good, the Hero who vanquishes the Demon King, indeed…”

“And you, Qingyao, what title will you adopt for fun later?”

“Since Senior is calling himself ‘Hero,’ I suppose I’ll have to humble myself and go by—”

“’Father of the Hero,’ of course.”

“Go on, get out of here! ‘Son of the Hero’ is closer!”

****

The campfire had died out.

The Hero tightened the chains wrapped around his back.

Good.

She had not fled.

“Oh dear, our Lord Hero is dreaming sweet dreams again, isn’t he?”

“How was your sleep?”

The voice emanated from behind him, echoing amidst the chains.

It was an utterly captivating, alluring voice.

It was the Saintess’s voice.

He rose silently.

Then.

He took one step after another, heading deeper into the desert.

“Guide the way.”

The voice was impossibly hoarse.

It was difficult to imagine.

The owner of that voice had once made the most heartfelt confession.