Chapter 48: Only You Are My Savior

The moment the white mist enveloped her—

Su Yuan felt a chill spread across her body, but far from the magical backlash or mental erosion she had expected.

Only then did she realize.

Her latent demonic bloodline had become a protective shield within this magic-suppressing fog.

The toxic particles drifting through the mist couldn’t harm her—they simply flowed around her like water parting around a stone.

Friendly fire immunity!

Su Yuan breathed a sigh of relief.

Her vision was fragmented and obscured by the thick fog.

Clutching the sapphire staff in her palm, she followed its guidance toward Bai Shimo’s location.

She hurried forward through the dense mist and finally spotted that familiar figure in the depths.

Without her staff, Bai Shimo was fighting with only basic hand-cast magic.

The white mist kept clinging to her limbs, gnawing away at her mana.

Her already diminished combat power had been cut in half by the barrier’s suppression.

Beads of cold sweat covered her forehead, and her stance was beginning to waver.

Su Yuan’s heart ached for her.

If—

Just if—

Bai Shimo truly encountered danger in this fog,

Su Yuan thought she would reveal her true form without hesitation and rush to save her.

Even if it went against all her usual caution and reason.

Suddenly, the mist around Bai Shimo churned violently.

She instinctively stepped back.

Countless slimy eyeballs surged from the fog, hovering in midair, their gray-black pupils locked onto her.

Bloodshot veins bulged beneath their lids.

This was the barrier’s summoned creature—a physical manifestation!

Bai Shimo gritted her teeth and raised a barrier to block the attack—but her mana had already been exhausted along the way.

A wound opened on her shoulder.

“Hiss…”

Crimson blood trickled from the wound.

Bai Shimo clutched her shoulder, biting her lower lip as waves of dizziness from mana depletion washed over her.

Just as she prepared to fight with her last remaining strength—a crack split open in the center of the mist, and a door slowly emerged.

The faint aura seeping through the crack made the surrounding eye-creatures freeze momentarily.

“That door… must be the foundation of the barrier.”

Bai Shimo panted heavily, her gaze locked onto the stone door.

If she could destroy the core, the white mist would collapse, and the school’s students and teachers would be saved.

But the oppressive aura emanating from the door was far more dangerous than the mist outside.

Stepping through could mean a deadly trap with little chance of survival.

She hesitated for half a second.

In that half-second, the wound on her shoulder throbbed with pain.

Images flashed through her mind—the panicked faces of the students, the worried look in Su Yuan’s eyes.

Her conviction as a magical girl overrode all fear.

Dragging her injured body, Bai Shimo stepped toward the stone door without looking back.

Su Yuan sighed.

She gripped Bai Shimo’s staff tightly and quickened her pace to follow.

The moment she crossed the threshold, a blinding light surged toward her, forcing her eyes shut, her lashes trembling.

Then a solid landing beneath her feet steadied her briefly.

It took a long moment before Su Yuan could open her eyes again.

But the scene before her was nothing like she had expected.

A setting sun slanted across the rooftops, casting a soft amber glow over the cobblestone streets.

Everything was peaceful.

“Huh…?

What’s going on?”

She took a few steps forward, her heels clicking against the ground.

She paused and pressed down firmly, confirming the bricks beneath her were solid.

Was this real?

Had they crossed through the door and escaped the barrier, back into the real world?

The thought had barely formed when she dismissed it.

The time, the scenery, the atmosphere—none of it matched the area around the school.

This world within the door held an unexplainable wrongness.

A chill crept up her spine.

She snapped her gaze to Bai Shimo ahead—and her pupils contracted sharply.

Bai Shimo looked wrong.

It was as if all her spirit had been drained from her.

Her shoulders slumped.

Her eyes were hollow.

She staggered forward, devoid of her usual vitality.

“Shimo?”

Su Yuan’s heart shot into her throat.

A sense of dread washed over her.

She bit her lower lip, decided to suppress her presence, and followed quietly from behind for a while.

Ahead, Bai Shimo moved like a puppet pulled by invisible strings, turning unsteadily into a side path.

Su Yuan followed softly, keeping her footsteps light.

The air around her was deathly still—no laughter of passersby, no hum of traffic, not even a wisp of breeze.

The clouds above were frozen in the sky like a painted canvas.

The entire world seemed to have been paused.

Only the echo of their mismatched footsteps disturbed the empty streets.

Halfway down the path, a familiar building came into view.

Wait… that was—

Su Yuan froze.

It was an abandoned old building, its walls peeling, its window frames rusted.

There was no mistaking it.

It was the place.

The place where, three years ago, she had given everything to save Bai Shimo.

The place etched into both their hearts—an inescapable nightmare.

Bai Shimo numbly climbed the rusted stairs.

At some point, the battle attire she had been wearing began to flake away like windblown dust—peeling from her sleeves, her fingertips, dissolving into the stagnant air.

All that remained was the dress she had worn on stage.

She stood rigidly at the rooftop’s edge, her back to Su Yuan, staring blankly at the sky.

She had been pulled back to that desperate afternoon three years ago.

The world had become so cold, every last trace of warmth stripped away.

The floorboards beneath her creaked ominously, as if they might collapse at any moment.

Tiny accusations and rumors whispered in her ears, weaving an inescapable net that trapped her.

Despair spread from her limbs, swallowing every light within her.

All that remained were self-doubt and a crushing guilt, surging wildly in her chest.

Su Yuan crept closer, afraid to startle her.

Then she heard it.

A hoarse murmur, spilling intermittently from Bai Shimo’s lips.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Dad… Mom… everyone at the orphanage… Director… I’m sorry… it’s all my fault…”

“Why… why did the Director protect someone like me…”

“Why do I still deserve to exist in this world…”

Soon, that fragile resolve was crushed by overwhelming guilt, sending her to the edge of collapse.

Bai Shimo stepped forward, one step at a time, tears falling—drop by drop, wetting the ground beneath her feet.

“Someone… save me…”

Each word was barely a whisper, yet they struck Su Yuan’s heart like stones, aching unbearably.

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