Starting as a Magical Girl, I Alone Shall Rule for Eternity

By the next day, the entire Disaster Control Bureau was draped in welcome banners for the seven true-transmissions.

Overnight, Four Leaf, Six Leaf, Yumo, and Thousand-Pinweed all became big stars within the Bureau.

Of course, what Shion still couldn’t understand was how they managed to produce so much promotional material in a single night—

cheer sticks, fans, big-head stickers, and those banners.

When Shion arrived at the square, walking along the cherry-blossom-strewn lane outside the campus, she looked up.

On the teaching building’s screen—originally meant for ads—she saw the somewhat goofy smiling faces of Four Leaf and Six Leaf.

They had turned the ad screen into propaganda for this assessment’s champions...

Shion didn’t know why the sponsors hadn’t complained. The Bureau was making money so easily.

“How’s it going, Shion!” A confident, glamorous figure suddenly blocked her path, a large patch of medicated ointment stuck to her forehead.

“My genius ideas plus my funds plus my popularity plus Jincha’s connections and the Central Bureau’s publicity! Today Azure Cloud Sect will receive much warmer attention and grander fanfare! No need to thank me, offering blessings to my supreme, almighty Magical Girl rival is only right.”

Iris finished, then pointed to a large group marching in not far away.

“The band and choir are ready,” “You just go comfortably,” “We’ll celebrate when you come out...”

Iris jabbered on and on. Yumo held her patience for a long time before snapping; without waiting for the Sect Master to speak, she raised a gust of wind.

It blew that annoying Magical Girl right away.

Unexpectedly, the other party didn’t have a Miracle Seed and hadn’t transformed, yet could manipulate gravity and kept chasing behind them until Shion flicked a finger, and she finally calmed down.

In truth, the assessment didn’t have an actual champion ranking. After all, this was simply a process to observe Magical Girls’ abilities before the Mental Landscape trial.

Passing was what mattered, there weren’t supposed to be rankings.

It was purely the Bureau doing this to help Azure Cloud Sect allocate slots—Shion naturally felt it was better for the sect members to fight for slots themselves.

If she and Lady Bingtang handled allocation, it would inevitably feel like favoritism, which wouldn’t be fair.

Azure Cloud Sect prized fairness in distribution of cultivation resources.

If your strength was enough, you could snatch what you wanted.

Just like Thousand-Pinweed—if she could beat the true-transmissions despite being a Harry Potter fanatic, Azure Cloud Sect would still let her take a true-transmission slot.

Not even the Sect Master could complain.

In the sect, whoever won the Mental Landscape trial took the slot; it was an ancestral rule.

So Four Leaf and Six Leaf winning in the end was outside Shion’s expectation.

She knew Perception Obstruction would shine, but the final victory was somewhat surprising.

All the true-transmissions in the sect knew each other’s abilities. If one controlled mana carefully enough, Perception Obstruction should have difficulty affecting true-transmission level Magical Girls.

It was just that Thousand-Pinweed and Dandelion fought so recklessly that they threw caution to the wind.

They needed more experience—experience was lacking.

Early this morning, Lady Bingtang had gone to discuss the entry order for the Mental Landscape with Jincha, so she wasn’t at Shion’s side.

Behind Shion walked the rested Yumo. This time Yumo didn’t have to hide; she followed her Sect Master openly.

While Shion’s sash fluttered, Yumo would occasionally reach out to touch it, as if catching butterflies, hopping along.

But whenever the Sect Master glanced back, little Yumo immediately became well-behaved.

The Central Bureau hovered above; the climate seemed magically altered—Shion had noticed since stepping into the area.

The warm breeze constantly shifted the falling cherry blossoms. Not only the petals,

even a speck of dust could be blown cleanly away by Yumo.

Once they entered the school, many Magical Girls swarmed to greet them.

No one dared touch Shion, given her status as Azure Cloud Sect Sect Master and her previous performance.

Although the Bureau Magical Girls were somewhat naive, having witnessed Shion’s strength and obeyed Jincha’s orders, they held her in awe and kept their distance.

Yumo was different.

Despite showing strong performance against Thousand-Pinweed before, normally Yumo wasn’t so aggressive.

And Jincha had told them to interact more with true-transmissions and become friends.

As soon as Yumo appeared, a crowd of Magical Girls clustered around her, chattering excitedly; some even held paper and pens:

“Dandelion, Dandelion, can you sign for me? Your last lightning strike was awesome!”

“Dandelion is the strongest true-transmission.”

“Yeah, Dandelion is the real winner!”

“Thousand-Pinweed is trash!”

“Don’t push me; I want a photo with Dandelion!”

“I was here first!”

Someone even took out a small screen looping the final strike Yumo landed on Thousand-Pinweed—the moment just before the Buddha’s Fury Lotus was swallowed.

Those focused, slightly reckless eyes were full of confidence and resolve.

Paired with her cute, grubby face and the messy hair whipped free from her hood by the roaring wind,

the contrast was both adorable and cool—irresistibly attractive.

But when the crowd surged around her, Yumo panicked.

She clutched her hood and squatted down.

“S-Sect Master!”

“No magic use.”

“Eh?”

After a warning, Yumo was swallowed by the crowd and couldn’t speak.

Shion turned and walked into the school.

After all, she approved of the true-transmissions and Central Bureau Magical Girls having a good rapport.

Yumo’s Mental Landscape opportunity had been voluntarily given up by some Central Bureau Magical Girls, who handed it to Yumo.

Whether Yumo or Thousand-Pinweed, their demonstrated strength had made the Bureau girls extremely enthusiastic.

Many of those who had gotten slots felt ashamed; even if they obtained a Mental Landscape, they couldn’t match the true-transmissions, so they thought it better to give fields to true-transmissions to better fight Disaster Beasts and Old World Ghosts.

In this respect, Magical Girls were truly reassuringly generous.

Opportunities coveted in the cultivation world—they would casually hand to others.

For us cultivators, opportunities are sometimes useless but we can’t afford to be without them.

Even if unusable now, one must seize them; perhaps they’ll be usable later.

At the extreme, if one can’t have them, better to destroy them so others can’t use them either.

This ruthless calculus was well known even to Azure Cloud Sect ancestors, including the founder famed as the Ancient Sage, who had guarded the Illusory Sea in his palm.

Schemes, betrayals, stratagems—upper cultivators plotting, lower cultivators as tools; the Illusory Sea’s villainy ends in self-destruction!

Yet these Magical Girls felt that if they couldn’t use something, giving it away was fine.

Though somewhat naive, it ultimately benefited Azure Cloud Sect.

As a righteous and orthodox sect, if someone willingly handed over an opportunity, then whether Thousand-Pinweed or Yumo accepted it, they were bound by cause and effect and had to repay the Bureau girls’ kindness.

Thus, even if pursued like celebrities, they had to accept it graciously.

Compared to the chance of a Mental Landscape, this hardship was trivial.

If you can’t stomach making connections, you’ll suffer from being too emotionally detached...

When they entered the school, Yumo eventually wriggled free from the crowd holding her head.

Thousand-Pinweed had arrived, and a new wave of followers swarmed her, giving Yumo a chance to escape.

Thousand-Pinweed’s demeanor was, naturally, much better than Yumo’s—she sat on her broom and greeted everyone with composure,

quickly taking control of the situation, even getting the Bureau Magical Girls to line up.

“Everyone, how about renaming the Central Bureau to Hogwarts?”

“Divide into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin; the school motto is: Never tease a sleeping dragon.”

Shion listened from afar and snorted.

Harry Potter had become a well-known reference even in the Bureau; in Beihai they’d gone overboard emulating it, and the Central Bureau had many Harry Potter fans.

Thousand-Pinweed’s call rallied people; even many who’d supported Yumo were pulled over.

A huge crowd marched toward the principal’s office.

Shion glanced at the still preening Yumo—who’d been touched by the girls and now had messy hair and clothes—and said, “Go report to Lady Bingtang.”

“Ah?” Yumo blinked, confused. “Why?”

“Thousand-Pinweed caused trouble at the Central Bureau, trying to stir up relations between Azure Cloud Sect and the Bureau.”

“That... that didn’t happen...” little Yumo tilted her head and watched Thousand-Pinweed collect followers as she flew around.

Soon a large crowd trailed behind her toward the principal’s office.

“I’ll contact them right away!”

Not long after, Lady Bingtang flew out from the tower cluster.

An ice slide formed in the air; the ice-blue Magical Girl gracefully slid from the tower to the principal’s high window.

She entered leisurely.

Soon after, Thousand-Pinweed—who had been leading the ruckus with Bureau Magical Girls—was yanked out by the ear.

This true-transmission, who had nearly unleashed apocalyptic force during the fight, now looked subdued, teary-eyed and pitiful as she faced Lady Bingtang, babbling apologies.

Lady Bingtang ignored her, breaking the brooms swarming around Thousand-Pinweed and tossing them aside.

She apologized to the principal and teachers while clutching Thousand-Pinweed by the ear and escorting her out of the building.

Shion saw a rare smile at the corner of Lady Bingtang’s mouth and chuckled.

True-transmissions feared Lady Bingtang most. Even Senior Sister Bai Mei, when scolded by Lady Bingtang after returning to Beihai for frivolously buying toy guns, had been chastised into silence.

As for Thousand-Pinweed, being so brazen as to storm the Bureau’s school and propose renaming the Central Bureau Hogwarts—she clearly had no fear of consequences.

She would pay for it...

“If you were to fight her again, how confident would you be of winning?” the Sect Master suddenly asked.

Yumo paused, then her eyes began to sparkle like stars.

Like the wild wind she summoned, a sliver of madness crept into her usually timid expression.

“Ten, ten out of ten, Sect Master! Yumo is absolutely certain of victory!”

Shion patted her head approvingly.

As a true-transmission there was no low or high ranking.

Thousand-Pinweed had entered Lush Leaves earlier and now was rushing toward Flourishing Branches; her divine sense had advanced faster than other true-transmissions.

But if one didn’t have certainty of victory in a rematch, one had lost from the start.

Shion wanted Yumo’s confidence.

The Great Dao’s path was harsh; without confidence one might as well be sent to the Bureau to retire.

After the battle, Yumo had gained some understanding of divine sense. Once she improved and mastered it, who would win would be uncertain.

Shion secretly considered staging a mega true-transmission free-for-all to test who performed worst in chaotic fights.

But the Old World troubles weren’t resolved yet. The sect was expanding and needed personnel everywhere; she couldn’t let personal schemes hinder the sect’s development.

After clearing the Old World remnants via the Mirror Kingdom Prince, and sweeping up ambitious and threatening Old World dregs...

Plotting grand plans, she and Yumo walked toward the small lake behind the tower cluster.

Keke and Silver Lotus were already there.

Shion glanced at Keke.

Keke nervously glanced at the teacher.

During the chaotic assessment, when she’d helped Four Leaf and Six Leaf produce a Seven-Color Fire Lotus, she’d felt confident of victory.

But after the explosion, Thousand-Pinweed and Dandelion still had combat capacity while Keke’s mana was drained, leaving her stunned and embarrassed.

She’d hoped to show off in front of the teacher, but ended up humiliated.

When Teacher Shion approached, Keke shrank her neck and tried to hide.

Silver Lotus straightened her up and forbade her from hiding. “Stand properly in front of your teacher.”

Hearing Yiyi speak, Keke made a small sound and finally stood up straight, still with a sheepish tilt to her head.

“Sorry, Teacher...”

You embarrassed me.

Before she’d finished, Shion patted her head. “Well done.”

Dandelion behind Shion gave her a thumbs-up and whispered, “Almost killed you, Keke. Impressive.”

Keke, who had been sullen, blinked blankly for a moment before unable to suppress a smile of delight.

She scratched her head. “Really? I thought you’d be fine, so I figured it wasn’t powerful...”

“The efficiency of mana circulation, reserves, durability of magical outfit, and the nature of mana were all disrupted by your strike,” Yumo said seriously. “If not for you, it might have taken much longer to decide the outcome.”

And in any case, they wouldn’t have lost to Four Leaf and Six Leaf. As long as their mana and operation precision hadn’t dropped, Four Leaf and Six Leaf never had a chance.

It was that one Buddha’s Fury Lotus strike that caused massive disruption.

Both she and Thousand-Pinweed lost the ability to guard against Four Leaf and Six Leaf’s techniques.

In the end, they were easily stunned with a wand knock and lost.

But could Perception Obstruction really pinpoint who threatened a true-transmission’s strength? Or were they merely lucky and happened upon Keke...

Yumo was curious.

Keke breathed a sigh of relief.

True-transmission strength was so exaggerated that Keke even doubted her own Seven-Color Fire Lotus.

“I’ll keep working hard!”

Shion didn’t say more, but Yumo clenched her right fist and waved at her. “Good luck!”

Silver Lotus grabbed Keke’s hand, then looked awkwardly at Dandelion. “What about me?”

Dandelion tugged at her hood. “Whatever.”

“You’re treating us differently! We’ve known each other so long—why won’t you cheer for me?”

Dandelion muttered, “So troublesome.”

Silver Lotus immediately hugged her friend. “Keke, she’s bullying me...”

Keke helplessly pulled at her friend and smiled at Dandelion. “Actually, Yiyi has always admired you, Senior Dandelion...”

Silver Lotus clapped a hand over her mouth and snapped, “No way, stop making things up!”

Dandelion followed her Sect Master closely. Before leaving she peeked from her sleeve and waved a tiny finger.

“Good luck, Silver Lotus.”

The once fierce Silver Lotus instantly melted in expression.

Keke waved at her and Silver Lotus snapped back to attention, batting her hand away.

“What are you doing!”

“Are you looking at Teacher Shion or Dandelion...”

“You can’t look at either.”

After the joking and laughter, Winter arrived with Thousand-Pinweed and the champion pair Four Leaf and Six Leaf.

Four Leaf and Six Leaf wore crowns Lady Bingtang had personally made for them; they looked delighted and constantly swapped crowns between them, clearly unwilling to part.

Thousand-Pinweed looked listless.

She’d clearly been severely scolded—her expression a mix of misery and grievance.

She stood behind Lady Bingtang motionless, a child who’d done wrong.

Lady Bingtang chatted a bit more with the Central Bureau staff, then pushed Thousand-Pinweed. “Go, stop making trouble.”

“Oh.”

Silver Lotus and Keke felt pressured and fell silent.

The atmosphere was like when a family elder had just scolded a child and guests were present.

Even the powerful true-transmissions had been disciplined like children—everyone felt a little awkward.

Soon, everyone lined up at the lakeside.

The lake shimmered in waves of light.

A gorgeous, intricate magic array unfolded across the water!

Then a door appeared before each person.

“Anyone who passes through the Mental Landscape will obtain their own Mental Landscape field,” Jincha said from a high place to the crowd. “No one knows what the trial inside will be or what they will see. In short, don’t stay long—the longer you stay, the more dangerous it becomes.”

“It’s similar to Mu’s Mental Landscape Remnant,” Hongmian added. “Just don’t be deceived.”

“But the conditions for obtaining a Mental Landscape field aren’t clear yet. Some people aren’t confused and come out quickly but still don’t get a field...” they rattled on, but Shion tuned it all out.

Too verbose.

They couldn’t offer useful information.

When the Mental Landscape doors opened, after checking that the Black Dragon and the Emperor were suppressed, she strode straight through.

“Wait...” someone shouted, but Shion didn’t pay attention.

Pushing open the door brought a flash of brilliant light and a cold wind.

It was snowing outside.

He looked around. Narrow alleys from the eighties or nineties, trash piled everywhere. Thankfully, the snow covered most of the filth and water, which had frozen.

The stench wasn’t strong.

The uneven, hard ground was covered in snow; sometimes stepping into a hole could pitch you forward.

Breath fogged; his nose grew wet and quickly froze, sharp with cold pain.

Silence surrounded him; only falling snow. Occasionally heavy rooftop snow would slide and thud, then silence returned.

He glanced at his shoes—simple sneakers, with cotton socks.

Somehow familiar, somehow strange.

Walking further down the alley, he heard a faint mewling.

He found a kitten curled in a snowdrift.

Its body was already stiff, trembling weakly—on the verge of freezing.

He reached over and tugged it by the leg, lifting it up.

The frozen cat couldn’t even scratch; it let him carry it.

Further along, he recognized a dilapidated house.

No renovation, a crude door—like a primitive dwelling.

A plaque hung on the door: Ling Yu Hall.

He pushed it open and an antique scene appeared—a rudimentary elixir furnace carved with auspicious clouds and dragons abruptly came into view,

the flames from the furnace licked the ceiling and spilled across the room. Smoke coiled through the space,

like some immortal’s cave-dwelling.

But the broken walls indicated it was just a cheap rented shack.

Next to the furnace crouched a middle-aged man in a dark green Daoist robe, his face blackened by soot.

He fanned the fire under the cauldron with a hand fan, coughing as he muttered ingredients.

“Realgar water, alum water, saltpeter, brine, rock, oyster, red ochre, talc, white lead... not lacking, not lacking.”

Even after Jiang Si entered, the man didn’t notice—eyes fixed on his furnace.

He calculated with finger counting, “Already the thirty-sixth day.”

He sniffed the aroma and a mad smile creased his tense face:

“All illnesses cured, all illnesses cured... haha, I found it!”

“The Dao Master has succeeded!”

He bent over almost dancing in excitement.

Then the cauldron went bang with a small burst, knocking the man to the ground. He lay stunned for a moment, then threw down his fan.

“Damn it, how could this be!”

He looked toward the doorway, his soot-dark face manic.

“Son, come open the furnace!”

Jiang Changshou, an idle drifter, forty-seven years old.

He was Jiang Si’s father.