Chapter 33: Taste the Annihilation Magic Cannon

Kexin pressed the button located at the end of the long handle, and the entire weapon immediately shifted its form. The original gun tip and side blades unfolded to reveal a thick cannon barrel, with a massive red gemstone emitting a dazzling glow.

In homage to a certain legendary magical girl, Kexin had originally wanted to name her weapon Heart of the Rising Sun, but it was obviously vetoed.

However, that didn’t stop Kexin from using her own conditions to create a combat mode like the Annihilation Magic Cannon. For now, this is an attack method unique to Kexin.

The reason is obvious: no one else could withstand such an enormous magical energy consumption.

Even an ordinary person standing here without any magical talent would feel discomfort from the high concentration of magical energy around Kexin.

“Are you really going to use that here?” Qisi stepped half a pace closer to Kexin. She could even absorb a bit of the emanating magical energy to replenish herself.

The Annihilation Magic Cannon requires a charging period before firing, continuously injecting magic into the weapon.

When fighting alone, Kexin rarely had the opportunity to use this move, so the few times she had done so were when Qisi restrained the monster.

Naturally, she had witnessed the power of this ultimate attack, jokingly called the Starlight Explosion, more than once. If Kexin wanted, she could literally level a mountain.

If aimed at the ground, even a small town could be instantly reduced to ruins. It’s akin to a tactical nuclear weapon—possibly even more terrifying than conventional tactical nukes—and remarkably “clean.”

Thus, she always used it within a barrier, in the critical area between reality and another space, so causing chaos there wouldn’t really collapse buildings.

But now, things were different.

“There’s no other choice, right? If we don’t finish this thing quickly, there’ll be even more trouble.”

Kexin currently knows very little magic, and even fewer attacks are usable; what she has to work with are mostly magic bullets.

Depending on the form of her weapon, the output damage differs. This scorpion monster’s defense isn’t especially strong, but it has regeneration far beyond its level.

The wounds it had just sustained had already healed during their conversation.

Other B- and even A-rank magical girl seniors have unique attack magics. Yet, even if Kexin sincerely asked them for guidance, their answers were ambiguous, as most of them couldn’t clearly describe how they performed their magic.

The Special Investigation Bureau’s data had no corresponding information either.

After all, the history of magical girls isn’t long.

The Bureau’s training focuses mainly on conceptual education and conventional combat training; for magic, one must rely on sudden personal enlightenment.

Kexin, however, hadn’t yet had any such insight.

Qisi couldn’t think of another solution either, but she was more concerned about the latter half of Kexin’s statement: “Even more trouble… does that mean something even trickier exists?”

The thought made Qisi shiver. She had already sensed that all this seemed orchestrated.

Whether it was the scorpion monster here, or the Beta-class monsters causing chaos throughout Muzhou, they seemed released with a purpose: to delay time and distract the Special Investigation Bureau.

If that’s the case, the mastermind must either have the ability to control monsters or be a higher-level entity—an advanced monster with strong control over ordinary ones.

Qisi initially considered the former, though she didn’t know how it could be done. Given that monsters have existed on Earth for a long time, there could have been researchers even in legendary times.

So it’s conceivable that someone developed a way to manipulate monsters—like wizards.

But even so, they would still be human, and magical girls have overwhelming suppression against humans; any superpowers or other supernatural abilities are virtually powerless against them.

Kexin, however, leaned toward the latter possibility, though she didn’t know why—she just had a feeling.

Since monsters with intelligence act with clear intent rather than pure instinct, it’s likely that some mastermind is planning something right now.

“I won’t last until then,” Qisi muttered, thinking about having to fight more after taking down the monster before her. She felt her vision darken.

“Just hold on a bit longer! It can’t be that bad,” Kexin encouraged.

“Give me a break…”

The concentration of magical energy signals danger to the monster, but the scorpion’s intelligence is too low to make a decisive choice, whether to attack or retreat.

It soon noticed invisible magic barriers on its left and right—Qisi’s skill, an adaptation of a wide-area magical shield.

The only choice left for the scorpion was to pounce toward the source of the high-energy magic—an undeniable threat.

Yet another human blocked its path. After testing a few times, it realized it couldn’t reach the source.

As if venting its frustration, steam suddenly shot from the joints of the scorpion’s body.

The surrounding temperature rose rapidly; Muzhou’s summer nights were already stifling, and this made everyone sweat profusely.

“What is it doing now?” Qisi held her sword-and-shield ready, wary of any sudden move, not even daring to wipe her forehead for fear of a sneak attack.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.” Once Kexin could no longer inject more magic into her weapon, it was a clear signal: the weapon was fully charged.

She raised the long barrel slightly, aiming it at the monster while keeping the angle modest to avoid collateral damage.

“Watch me take it down with one shot.”

“Going to fire?”

“Yeah—”

Kexin smiled confidently and pulled the trigger on the cannon’s shaft. The magic stored in the temporary container instantly surged forward, focusing through the barrel toward the target.

Without giving the scorpion any time to react, the beam tore through the air, piercing straight through its body. Anything it touched was instantly obliterated; even a graze could pulverize and vaporize matter.

The monster’s core crystal inside was destroyed instantly.

This core is the monster’s vital part. Normally, without destroying it, the monster could endlessly regenerate using magic.

Before Kexin fired, Qisi had already retreated to a safe distance, watching the beam stretch into the sky until it vanished from sight.

She had no doubt that this single shot could theoretically reach the Moon—or even further.

After firing, Kexin’s weapon began cooling, her own magic still feeding into it to facilitate the process.

Finally, she could properly survey the battlefield—the building looked utterly devastated.

Because Kexin had lifted the barrel, the beam had penetrated multiple ceilings, causing irreversible structural damage.

Where the monster once stood remained only a shapeless mass and a newly formed core crystal.

After a monster dies, its residual magic automatically consolidates, and most human research on magic relies on these fallen crystals.

Kexin stepped forward, nose wrinkling at the pungent stench.

Much of the monster’s body had been formed with magic, but some parts were composed of earthly matter—stone, sand, but most likely flesh, especially human.

Kexin used magic to block the odor in the air, but psychologically she still seemed to smell it, so she held her breath, pinched her nose, and continued forward to retrieve the core crystal.

“Suddenly, I feel the Special Investigation Bureau’s post-battle cleanup team has a tough job,” Qisi remarked from a distance, having smelled the foul scent herself.

Kexin silently agreed, keeping her mouth tightly shut.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet trembled.

“An earthquake?” Qisi thought immediately.

“Muzhou hasn’t had any perceptible earthquakes in nearly a century, so it’s unlikely.”

“Then what’s happening?”

“I think—”

Before Kexin could finish, the floor cracked beneath her. The building could no longer withstand further damage. Within seconds, it collapsed entirely, as if pulverized.