I made up magic and taught a world-destroying witch?

The blonde girl stood up from the sofa and performed a textbook-perfect bow.

"Professor Grantham, I've heard so much about you."

Joseph nodded slightly, but before he could even offer a polite "Please sit down," another voice came from the sofa on his right.

"Um, you're the great mage?"

The red-haired girl, Mia Taylor, stood up abruptly, her light brown eyes scanning Joseph up and down with curiosity on her face.

"Looks quite young!" she added casually.

"I thought all the professors at the magic academy had beards that dragged on the ground."

Grace's smile twitched slightly downwards.

"Miss Mia," she said gently, turning her head to the side.

"Mr. Joseph is the youngest archmage in the history of the Empire. This title was granted by the Association on an exceptional basis, which is itself an acknowledgment of his academic achievements."

Judging a person's ability based on their appearance is extremely rude.

Mia blinked blankly and said, "But I was complimenting him on his youth, how was that impolite?"

There are many ways to praise someone.

"Isn't this compliment good?"

Grace paused for a moment, then decisively turned to Joseph:

"Professor Grantham,"

She put on a polite smile again.

Please allow me to introduce myself.

I am Grace August, from the August family.

Although... I did poorly in the Royal Academy's magic test, I have read all of your published works.

In particular, that review article from two years ago on "Magic Decay Cycles" was incredibly helpful to me.

Two years ago? That piece was written by the original owner; to be honest, Joseph himself skipped through it.

"Can you read it?" Mia interjected.

Grace's smile remained unchanged: "That's generally acceptable."

"Then I really can't."

Mia plopped back down on the sofa, shrugging her shoulders without any hesitation.

"I didn't even pass the theory test for the entrance exam."

But when it comes to practical skills, I'm absolutely no problem! My dad even says I'm the best blacksmith he's ever seen in his life…”

"Miss Taylor," Grace interrupted softly.

  

"We are in the drawing room of a great magician."

"so what?"

"So perhaps we can discuss the topic of blacksmithing later."

"Why? There's nothing shameful about blacksmithing."

Grace ignored Mia and picked up an exquisite wooden box from beside the sofa, returning to the tea table.

"Professor Grantham, it's a pleasure to meet you. This is a small token of my appreciation."

The wooden box was made of ebony, and the clasp was engraved with intricate vine patterns. Just by looking at the box, Joseph knew that it was definitely a high-end item that could empty the savings of an ordinary person over several decades.

Grace opened the box, inside lay an ancient magical tome. Even if the words on such a rare copy were completely blurred, its historical value and exquisite binding alone would fetch at least several thousand gold coins at an auction house.

Joseph's fingers were itching to move inside his sleeves, and he was almost unable to resist the urge, but reason kept him still.

"Thank you for your trouble," he nodded slightly.

A hint of undisguised joy flashed in Grace's eyes before she retreated to sit down on the sofa.

Mia looked at the ancient books in the wooden box, then at her empty hands, and a hint of panic finally appeared on her face.

"Me too! I brought one too!"

She frantically grabbed the faded canvas bag next to her, rummaged through it, and finally pulled out something wrapped in burlap.

Mia quickly tore open the burlap sack, revealing a dagger.

"I typed this myself," Mia said, scratching the back of her head.

"I used the best star iron ore from my dad's furnace. I figured you're a great magician, so you must have plenty of gold and silver, but you always need to cut materials or pry open boxes when you're doing experiments, right?"

This is better than a paper cutter!

She drew her dagger and showed it to him.

"And I added something," Mia said with a hint of smugness.

"I don't know why, but the knives I make are particularly good at absorbing heat. I can cut through frozen things with just one stroke."

I was thinking you might find it useful when you're doing experiments, like cutting some magical materials or something?

Joseph took the dagger and examined it twice.

Star iron ore isn't cheap. Just heating this material to its malleable temperature to forge a dagger would take an average blacksmith's furnace half a day. Add to that the heat absorption—although she certainly didn't do it intentionally, he'd only ever seen this kind of passive enchantment effect in game mechanics before.

This thing is useful.

"Very useful, thank you."

Mia's face lit up immediately.

Grace maintained her smile, but the curve of that smile was slightly less pronounced than before.

"Gentlemen," he said, "please sit down."

The two girls exchanged a glance, then sat down again, each a great distance apart.

Joseph composed himself, picked up the teapot, poured himself a cup of black tea, took a sip, and then put down the cup before walking to the display whiteboard on one side of the living room.

"Before we begin, I'd like to ask you a question."

Both girls looked at him at the same time.

"What do you think is the biggest difference between magic from the old era and magic from the present?"

Grace answered almost immediately: "Scale."

"How so?"

"According to historical records, sorcerers in the old days could summon storms, level hills, and even communicate with gods."

Grace said longingly,

"And now, we can't even reliably cast a fireball. The scale of magic has shrunk from being able to change the world to being able to light a candle."

"Even lighting a candle is often difficult."

Mia popped a small cookie into her mouth and mumbled a sarcastic remark, "..."

"I almost burned the curtains last time."

"...That's a matter of your personal self-control," Grace said softly.

"I didn't say it wasn't."

Grace's lips twitched again.

"Good answer." Joseph tapped the whiteboard at the opportune moment, interrupting the impending verbal battle.

"But that answer is too superficial."

Both girls quieted down.

"The difference between old magic and modern magic is in their structure."

"Structure?" Grace frowned.

"Yes." Joseph picked up the charcoal pencil, turned around, and drew a neat square on the whiteboard.

"In the old days, when sorcerers performed spells, it was like pouring magic out like water."

Your current spellcasting is essentially the same method: gathering magic power and then pushing it out with willpower.

The only difference is that the mages of the old days had an entire lake of water to squander, while you only have a cup left.

He tapped on the square on the whiteboard.

"But the problem isn't the amount of water; the problem is that you didn't even put the water into the cup."

The reception room fell silent.

Mia swallowed the snack in her mouth and scratched her head:

"So you're saying...we've been splashing water around aimlessly all along?"

"...That's one way to understand it."

"How can I avoid splashing?"

Joseph turned around and wrote a line of text next to the square with charcoal: Spell Slot Basic Framework.

"This is what you're going to learn today." He pointed to the square. "It's called a spell slot."

"Isn't this just a cube?" Mia tilted her head.

"Yes, it's a cube. But this cube is the starting point for all new magic."

Joseph put down his charcoal pencil and faced the two students.

He frantically searched his mind for the few remaining memories of playing games in his past life.

Spell slots—that sounds very professional in this world.

As for how to teach it, that's not important for now. What's important is that it doesn't sound like nonsense.

"I divided the construction of spell slots into three steps in my paper."

Joseph thought for a moment and then polished his words:

"The first step is to specify a frame, for example, you need to imagine a grid of a fixed shape in your mind."

In my theoretical framework, the standard shape of a spell slot is a square. The clearer your understanding of this, the more stable your spell slot will be.

Grace nodded slightly, her blue eyes fixed on the whiteboard.

The second step is traffic generation.

It's about imagining the magic in your body flowing into this square. Success is achieved when the magic flows into the square.

Grace frowned.

This statement had a greater impact on her than all the previous theories combined, but the gentleman had his reasons for saying it.

The final step is packaging.

Once your compartments are full, seal them with your mind, like tying a bag tightly.

Joseph put down his charcoal pencil and dusted off his hands.

"When you can stably construct a spell slot framework in your mind and keep it intact for ten minutes, that's when you've touched the threshold of new magic."

Of course, he made up this whole thing on the spot.

If you think about a square in your head for ten minutes, nothing will happen except for your mind wandering.

This thing will absolutely not produce any results.

It's good that he can't produce results. In academic research, stagnation is the norm. If he can't produce results, he can slowly drag things out. Once the funding has been transferred to someone else, he can legitimately pack up and run away.

This is the correct mindset for a mature project leader.

Joseph looked at the two students again and asked:

"Did you all understand?"

Grace nodded, and Mia scratched her head, then reluctantly nodded as well.

Joseph was just getting ready to let them try their first practice session when there was a knock on the door.

The deliveryman poked half his head in, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Professor Grantham, I apologize for interrupting your lecture."

Your order has arrived and you need to sign for it in person.

The sofa must have arrived; something that can truly improve the quality of life has finally arrived.

He nodded without changing his expression, then turned to the two students and said:

"Constructing a spell slot requires absolute quiet and concentration. You can practice here on your own using the three-step method I've taught you. I have some things to attend to."

He walked to the door, then turned back and added:

"Remember, don't interfere with each other. The key to mastering this new magic lies in mental and physical unity."

The door to the reception room closed behind Joseph.

After the door closed, Grace closed her eyes again, clearly having begun practicing the three-step method taught by Joseph.

Mia closed her eyes and held them open for less than ten seconds before painfully opening them again.

She glanced at Grace, then at the square on the whiteboard, and scratched her hair, which she had ruffled into a mess, in frustration.

"Hey," she said, "did you understand?"