"You felt it too, right."
The Old Witch Demon chuckled hoarsely, the voice drifting like a specter: "The Magic Power inside you, every moment, every second, is being absorbed by this world... It's slipping away from beneath your feet, dissipating with your breath, and slowly evaporating through every hair on your skin."
"I don't know if this is the effect of the magic circle those First University scoundrels set up, or if this world has undergone some strange mutation, but I know that in this world, the more Magic Power we use, the less we have."
"The Black Prison World is like a desperately hungry oil press, squeezing every bit of Magic Power from our bodies."
"Aside from consuming the corpses of our kind to barely replenish some loss, we can only strive to squeeze the limits of our bodies, scavenging for the faint Magic Power in every cell and every nerve gap... So you've seen, the consequence of a lack of Magic Power makes us all look like this."
