Leruila opened the book. It was like a pop-up book; when its pages were turned, wondrous paper buildings rose from within. The paper structures had been painted with color, gradually becoming real.
Leruila let out a weak voice and sighed softly:
"A witch can use spells in a dead-magic plane. That is a trait of magic power's omnipotence, and also its ability to make wishes come true. But that creates a new problem: just how does the magic power stored within a witch's body break through its shackles, allowing us to use magic in a plane where myth and heaven-and-earth have been severed?"
Jiang Han had considered that question as well, and had her own guesses.
A dead-magic plane was not as simple as "[store magic power in your organs, take it there, and you can still use it]." If it were merely that, witches would have it far too easy vacationing in dead-magic planes. It would be like traveling abroad from home and needing only a universal adapter and a transformer.
Clearly, dead-magic planes were not that simple.
Those were planes where even the severing of heaven and earth was not enough to describe them. Mystery had long since vanished. Magic stripped of mystical power became nothing more than a madman's gibberish—believing certain things possessed unimaginable power, believing that one's frenzied dancing and gesturing, never tested by scientific practice, could earn the favor of mystery.
Jiang Han guessed:
"Because of our bodily organs? Even a dead-magic plane cannot determine that our power is magic."
Wasn't that strange? Magic power was not considered magic, nor was it considered mystery. It was a mind-driven force that nevertheless existed upon the material plane.
Leruila nodded.
"That's right. As long as one possesses magic power, our organs gradually mutate into a state capable