I Became A Magic Genius

Deep within the Spirit Realm, beneath a colossal glass dome shaped like an ancient conservatory, time had long since forgotten to move.

The dome arched high above, like a celestial greenhouse. Its curved panels were made of translucent crystal, weathered by time but still intact, etched with delicate runes that shimmered faintly in the low light.

Twisting vines and glowing blossoms covered the structure, magical flowers in shades of silver, lavender, and gold bloomed in abundance, curling around the outer frame in winding patterns.

They pulsed gently, as if breathing with the dome itself.

Inside, the air was warm and fragrant. Soft moss blanketed the floor, while bioluminescent flora hovered just above the soil like tiny lanterns.

Magic saturated the air.

And at the center of it all, resting atop a stone platform, lay a man.

His long black hair spilled across the marble like ink, trailing off the platform's edge in silky strands. His skin was pale with a faint luminescence just like porcelain. High cheekbones, long lashes, and lips neither smiling nor frowning. He looked more like a sculpture than a man.

He was in slumber.

Not by peace, but by a fate forged from magic and consequence.

For what felt like an eternity, he had remained in this unnatural slumber.

But now—

Something changed.

A flicker of awareness stirred, faint but persistent, like a ripple on a lake.

Then, without warning—

He began to dream.

Or rather…

He began to remember.

The scent of rain and earth came first. Then came the sound of flowing streams, twining with the whispering chatter of fairies as they flitted through the air.

At the heart of it all—

A magnificent tree stood, its golden branches stretching endlessly towards the sky.

The Tree of Life.

Its roots spanned both the Spirit Realm and the world beyond.

A being of immeasurable wisdom.

It had seen all things.

It had known all things.

And it knew him.

He had once stood before it.

No—

He is standing before it now.

This is no dream.

It is a memory.

One buried beneath centuries of silence.

The branches rustled softly, as if acknowledging his presence.

Then, a voice—

Light, ancient, feminine.

"You have come at last."

He gazed up at the towering being before him, his silver eyes calm, patient.

"Why summon me?" His voice echoed like distant thunder.

The fairies fluttered nervously around the tree, their tiny voices whispering in anxious tones.

The Tree swayed gently, the leaves humming softly in response.

"To warn you."

A breeze passed through the grove, carrying with it the faintest scent of something unknown, brushing his robes.

He did not flinch.

"Warn me?" he repeated. "Of what?"

The fairies froze.

The leaves trembled.

And then, with a voice that seemed to echo across—

"She will be the cause of your death."

A deep silence followed those words.

The man's eyes darkened. His voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it now.

"…Who?"

The Tree did not answer.

It simply continued to swayed, heavy with a truth that seemed too painful to speak.

The fairies glanced at him, their expressions filled with something strange.

Was it pity?

Or…

Fear?

The streams continued to flow, the sunlight continued to filter through the leaves—

And yet, the air had grown colder.

The man took a slow step forward.

"Who is it?"

Still, the Tree gave no name.

Only rustling branches, and a sorrowful whisper:

"Fate will guide you to her. And when you meet...your time will begin to end."

For a long time, he said nothing. The man's breath remained steady, but beneath the surface—

A storm raged.

Then—

The dream shattered like glass. His body twitched, and a finger moved for the first time in centuries.

The quiet chamber remained undisturbed.

But within him…

Something had changed.

For the first time in centuries—

He had remembered.

And in remembering—

He felt.

His consciousness had been drifting, lost in the void of darkness for what felt like an eternity, but now, it began to stir.

Subtle, like a gentle probe nudging at the edge of his consciousness, like a distant whisper calling out to him through the silence.

The darkness that had once pressed down on him started to shift, as if a hand was reaching into the murk, trying to pull him from the depths, urging him to rise towards the surface.

Slowly, gradually, he could feel his mind awakening. And still, he could hear the faint echoes lingering in his mind...

"She will be the cause of your death."

—

Far away, in a realm of chaos and noise…one small girl was pouting.

The guard standing beside the crystal cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, scratching his head. "That's one try."

He turned to the next participant, already waving for them to step forward.

"Next."

Yao Yao froze.

Wait.

That's it?!

Just like that?!

She hadn't even had a real chance!!

Her mind shrieked in protest.

No, no, no, no, no!!

She couldn't accept this!

She refused to be spiritless!

She refused to walk away without even a single ripple of reaction!

And most importantly—

She refused to be rejected when she is this cute!!

Her eyes immediately shimmered with unshed tears, her tiny hands clenching, the twig in her hair wobbling still.

Her voice quivered, soft and fragile—

"B-But… Uncle… I—"

The guards visibly winced.

A few commoners behind her stirred with concern.

The younger guard wiped his face, already folding.

"Boss," he whispered. "Look at her. We can't just—"

"No," the older guard sighed heavily, fighting for his life. "She already tried once, and—"

"But one more try wouldn't hurt!" the younger one pleaded. "She's just a little girl—"

Yes, yes, that's right!

Yao Yao sniffled pitifully and stepped even closer to the guard.

She reached out and gently tugged at the older guard's sleeve, looking up at him with the most devastatingly innocent gaze she could muster.

"Just… one more try?" she whispered.

Silence.

A battle of wills unfolded.

The older guard's expression twisted, his jaw clenching, his very soul fighting against the overwhelming cuteness attack.

His younger partner was already trembling, seconds away from crumbling. Even the other participants looked like they were about to cry on her behalf.

High above the arena, Rong Xi chuckled softly.

She was persistent.

He had to give her that.

And despite his usual calm demeanor—

He found himself leaning forward just a bit more.

What would they do?

Reject her again?

Or would they cave under the pressure of those large eyes?

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

This girl—

She's quite something.