The Delusional Magical Girl Xena

The sky above the ruined village darkened. Rain threatened to fall at any moment. I looked down at Pania—no, at what had once been Pania. The severed foreleg and the gaping hole in her body throbbed, but the wound in my chest felt far larger.

A few raindrops began to fall. Blood slowly washed away, revealing Pania’s mangled form in stark detail. I no longer wanted to stay here. Without a word, I activated the communicator.

“It’s been a while, Porim. How is the matter we discussed progressing?”

The moment the translucent image appeared, that calm voice reached my ears. Something inside me surged violently upward. Progressing? Even after seeing this wretched state, that damned old hag could still say something like that?

“You fucking bitch.”

“...What did you say?”

Yes. It was all because of her. This wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all because this old hag had pushed me into it. I had only wanted to return to the magical world. I had never believed in the potential of magical girls!

“Guiding magical girls onto the right path? This is the result. Look at this properly and say it again! Huh? Try spouting that same bullshit like before!”

The Grand Matron stared alternately at me and Pania’s corpse beyond the screen. Her expression slowly hardened. For a long while, she said nothing. Then, with difficulty, her lips parted.

“Return as quickly as possible.”

It was the words I had most wanted to hear. My body trembled. Even now, I felt a surge of joy at the fact that I could escape this hell. After pushing Pania into it. Overwhelmed by self-loathing, I cut the transmission.

The scattered raindrops turned into a downpour. I dropped to the ground and began digging with my hind legs. I had no idea how long it would take to make a hole large enough to bury Pania, but I refused to leave her body exposed on the bare earth. With both forelegs severed, the work took far longer than expected. What had begun around noon only finished deep into the night.

I dropped Pania into the pit and stared down at her for a long time. Please, let this be a dream. When I wake up, let me be back inside the tent with Pania. I prayed desperately, but when I looked down again, all that remained was the corpse, now even more vivid after the rain had washed it clean.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry. I’m sorry...”

Rainwater seeped into the crushed face and the dozens of holes riddling her body. I had done this to Pania. What kind of ending was this? Magical girls were supposed to bring dreams and hope. They weren’t supposed to end up as rags inside a pit. Even in defeat, they were supposed to rise again. Even in death, they were supposed to come back to life. They were supposed to return stronger than before...

“That’s right... Awakening. Now that I think about it, she did awaken...”

I didn’t know why Pania had awakened at the very end. Her true name was Love, so it must have been related to that... but in the original story, Pania had never awakened—she hadn’t even escaped the rank of low-class magical girl. So why? And the situation had nothing to do with love at all.

...No. No, it’s fine. The reason doesn’t matter. An awakened magical girl was a demigod who could even ignore causality. A being capable of performing miracles. So—

“Come back to life... Please...!”

The rainwater felt even colder now. The chill spreading from my face refused to let me escape into a dream. Yes. I already knew the truth. Awakened magical girl or not, death was the end. There was no coming back. Even a healing magical girl couldn’t resurrect the dead. What I was doing was nothing more than denying a fact I already understood.

Was this all just a story from a novel? Pania dies, and I return to the magical world.

“So in the end, that’s how reality works...”

Standing in the pouring rain, I filled the pit with soil. Only after burying Pania did the pain from my wounds finally begin to register. I collapsed onto the muddy ground. Fatigue and stress erupted all at once. Along with the pain, my eyes began to close. Cold raindrops struck my body and seeped into the holes. So this was how I died. With that thought, my consciousness sank into darkness.

In the final moment, as my vision blurred into blackness along with a languid sensation, I felt someone looking down at me—and heard a gentle voice.

[Porim, can you hear me?]

The moment I heard that voice, I realized it was a dream. Because Pania was dead. Pania... I tried to answer the Pania in my dream, but no voice came out. My mouth hung slack like wet cotton, trembling.

[If it’s difficult, you don’t have to answer. Just listen. I’d like to tell you a personal story... Um... Is that all right? You like me, so you’ll listen, won’t you, Porim?]

[Porim. You know, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when I fell asleep holding you in my tent, I had a dream.]

[That day, Mom shook off the foreign man’s hand and came back to hug me—that kind of dream.]

[But that’s something I can’t even hope for in a dream. Because Mom never once looked back at me until the moment she closed the door and left... Of course she wouldn’t. How could anyone love a child born from the filthy blood of that trash?]

[Porim.]

[The version of me you saw was nothing but an illusion. I’m not the person you think I am.]

[I’m so weak that even light criticism makes me suffer to the point of wanting to die, and so foolish that a little praise makes me leap into a fire.]

[Someone without the strength or confidence to stand on their own, who flatters others just to lean on them.]

[Someone who smiles and acts kind on the outside while, in their heart, smashing people’s heads, stabbing them with knives, and butchering them hundreds, thousands of times over—a pitch-black human being.]

[That’s me.]

[Someone like that can never become your ideal magical girl.]

[But even someone like me has realized one thing. I should live for what I truly want, not for others. I won’t beg for love while tormenting myself anymore. Because I’ve already received a heart far too precious for someone who’s spent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their whole life crawling and scraping to even reach the tips of their toes.]

[So... I’m going to leave. It’s not that I dislike you, Porim. I really do like you. I mean it.]

[That’s why I don’t want to show you what I truly want right now.]

[Because I’m far more gloomy, filthy, and rotten than you think.]

[I want to remain in your memory as someone kind and warm.]

[...Even if I’m never loved.]

[Porim.]

[Do you know what I regret the most? That day in the tent... not being able to talk with you more.]

[Now I’ve started wanting to know about you. What kind of food you like, what kind of weather you like, what you usually do...]

[If this weren’t such a world, we could have traveled together, tried foods we’d never seen before. You could decide where we go and what we eat. Ah, it’s not that I’m trying to push it onto you—I just don’t know much about that sort of thing. And... if it’s something you like, I feel like I could like it too.]

[...]

[No, forget it. I won’t say anything that would leave regrets.]

[I’ll be going now. I may not have become your ideal magical girl, but you were my ideal fairy.]

[Thank you so much for choosing me as your magical girl.]

Pania’s voice did not continue. In my languid consciousness, I opened my eyes to the sensation of warm droplets wetting my face. I was inside Pania’s tent. Had the lingering scent in the tent been the reason I dreamed of her?

My mind felt hazy, as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if shrouded in fog. Even as I tried to recall the memory, the contents remained blurred. Nothing came to mind. More importantly... had I entered the tent without realizing it?

How cunning.

With a bitter feeling, I rose to my feet. I planned to visit Pania’s grave one last time before departing for the magical world. I had never been to the magical world before. Until now, I had held expectations about what it might look like, but now I felt nothing.

Stepping onto the still-damp earth, I left the tent. The slum village in the early morning was silent. No—that word didn’t even begin to describe it. It felt as though sound itself had vanished. Amid that sense of wrongness came the thick stench of blood.

Huh...?

On my way to where I had buried Pania, I saw corpses scattered across the ground. They were the villagers. Every single resident lay torn into dozens of pieces. Not a single intact body remained.

“Who the hell did this?”

Serafina? That didn’t seem right. If she had intended to do something like this, she would have dealt with them yesterday while killing Pania. Then it might have been Zem’s personal revenge. Had he sent his underlings to wipe them out? That seemed more likely. The corpses bore clear signs of having been hacked apart by weapons.

After Serafina left, he must have sent the gangsters to clean up. But there was something strange about dismissing it so easily.

Was there any reason to kill them so brutally?

If it had been Zem’s orders, the gangsters would simply have been doing their job. There was no need to tear the bodies to shreds like this. From the corpses, now so mangled that even their shapes were unrecognizable, I could feel nothing but overwhelming malice. The methods of killing also seemed varied—marks as if sliced with a saw, cleanly severed sections, large bruises...

After thinking for a moment, I shook my head. It didn’t matter anymore. No matter the reason they died, they had simply paid the price. Good riddance. Trash like them.

With that thought, I headed toward the place where I had buried Pania.

Where did it go...?

Pania’s body was gone. I had definitely buried her here. All that remained was the open pit. Someone had dug up the corpse. And the only people who would do something like that were those connected to Serafina.

You bitches, to the very end...!

Maybe they were the ones who had moved me into the tent as well. Since they planned to extract magical world items from me, they must have kept me alive. I stood motionless for a long time at the spot where the grave had been. I had killed Pania twice over. And still, I had tried to return to the magical world. After killing Pania twice, I had tried to flee to safety.

“Ha... haha...”

A hollow laugh escaped me. This world, and I as well—everything was slowly being drained of color. Magical girls were right. They couldn’t be wrong... Because magical girls were perfect beings. Magical girls were great and noble, the very foundation of this world... They had to be. Otherwise, what had everything I’d done until now even meant?

My mind, now drained of color, slowly began to fill with that single conviction. So my methods couldn’t have been wrong. She had awakened, after all. Clearly. Without a doubt, she had completed it, but died because of Serafina. If the awakening hadn’t been interrupted. If she had faced Serafina after fully awakening, Pania would have won! No—she did win! There was no doubt... She could do it... I could just make another one, the same way I made Pania, starting from the beginning... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It wasn’t a failure. I had simply taken a wrong turn for a moment. I could fix it...

In the original story, it hadn’t turned out like this. What had been different? First of all, it was absolutely not my fault. That much was certain. What I had done here was support them with my knowledge of the original work and teach them the fastest way to grow stronger. Thanks to that, we had even taken down the final boss, the Demon King, on a free pass. Ah. There wasn’t one. Trials. Right. That was it. What came easily was easily lost. The ideal magical girl was born through trials and sacrifice. Pania had faced trials. The village brats had tormented her. Serafina and Zem had tormented her too! That was why she had awakened so quickly. Yeah. No matter how I thought about it, this made sense. It was a classic magical girl story cliché. I had prioritized results over process, so I had failed. No—not failed. The plan had simply gone slightly off track. It really wasn’t a big deal.

Of course, there might be magical girls who couldn’t endure the trials like Pania and broke down. But so what? Did that matter? She had awakened anyway. If one broke, I could just put in another. Now I had finally found my direction. I could complete it. The most ideal magical girl. The ideal magical girl wasn’t nonexistent. I simply hadn’t been able to create her yet. Come to think of it, the magical girls hadn’t even been corrupted. In the first place, there was no such thing as “corruption” for magical girls. How could the protagonists of this world possibly corrupt? The correct term was that they simply hadn’t been completed yet. It wasn’t corruption—it was a growth arc! They had never been corrupted. I had never corrupted them!

The scattered corpses no longer mattered. In front of a magical girl, humans held no value. After all, they were nothing more than beings that could be swept away with a single gesture from a magical girl. They were merely props meant to make the protagonist magical girls shine. This world belonged to magical girls.

I placed the black crystal in my mouth. Xena’s soul—the magical girl who had been the villain in the original story. I was suddenly grateful that I had saved it until the very end. In a world where magical girls were the protagonists, fairies were equally worthless. From the moment a mere prop had dared to try controlling magical girls without knowing its place, ending up like this was only natural. The only ones qualified to impose trials upon magical girls were other magical girls. Humans, and fairies, presuming to impose trials on magical girls was nothing short of blasphemy.

Holding Xena’s soul, I poured magical power into it. A vortex of pitch-black magical energy soon coiled around my body. The power felt so natural, as if it had always been mine. And then, like a screen flickering off, the world was instantly dyed black.

At the same time, a harsh sandstorm blew in. Black hair that had been covering my eyes scattered in all directions, and my vision brightened. I looked down into a puddle on the ground. A black dress that seemed to absorb light. Beneath hair of the same murky black hue, crimson eyes. Sharp, slanted eyes. Thin lips that gave off a cunning impression. The original story’s Xena was staring back at me.

What...? Villain designation? Me? The one who would complete the magical girls?

My body froze for a moment. Then, slowly, I raised the corners of my lips.

“Sure. You can designate me that way. After all, the original Xena was a villain.”

My voice was smooth, yet carried a razor-sharp edge beneath. Following Xena’s speech patterns so naturally made me realize that my mind was being influenced, to some extent, by the original Xena’s personality. It had been the same when I became Porim. Still, I couldn’t figure out why the fairy position had remained unchanged. So the magical world was called Valton. That was information that hadn’t even appeared in the original story.

The ability seemed to be exactly as it had been in the original—Magical Thread Manipulation. And the danger level was 1.6. More useful than I’d expected. In the original, she had only done foolish things, so I hadn’t realized, but her danger level was higher than I thought.

While nodding to myself, my gaze landed on the True Name field. Since Xena’s true name had never been mentioned in the original story, I was the last to notice it.

Delu... sion?

What kind of nonsense was this?

The moment I read the text reflected in the puddle, something hot surged up in my mind.

“Shut up... Shut up, shut up, shut up!!!”

I raised my leg and stomped madly on the puddle with the heel of my shoe. Muddy water splashed violently across the hem of the black dress. In the rippling surface, a horribly distorted face stared up at me.

“It’s all lies anyway... That nonsense has never come true even once. The ideal magical girl exists. She just hasn’t appeared yet...”

I roughly brushed the mud from my dress and began walking toward the entrance of the slum village. There was distance, but I would not run. The original Xena had disliked running, calling it a vulgar act. Now that I had become Xena, I found myself disliking it a little as well.

Of course, just because I had obtained a magical girl’s power didn’t mean I had become one. I was, after all, a fairy who guided them onto the right path. So—

I would save the magical girls. As a fairy, I would turn them all into the most ideal magical girls.