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

"The gentleman has already made himself very clear," Grace replied without even lifting her eyelids.

"Then translate this for me, how exactly do you conjure up a framework in your mind out of thin air?" Mia asked, scratching her hair in frustration.

Grace finally opened her eyes and glanced at Mia.

"Miss Taylor, the master has already said to close your eyes, imagine a square in your mind, and then let the magic flow into it."

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple."

Mia pursed her lips and closed her eyes again with a look of disbelief.

Five seconds later, she opened her eyes in pain.

"No, the moment I close my eyes, all I can think about is that lava cream cake I ate this morning."

Grace's perfect jawline twitched slightly, and she simply turned her head away, completely cutting off the conversation.

Time passed by, second by second.

Grace kept her eyes closed, as if she had truly entered a meditative state.

In comparison, Mia is practically a patient with severe ADHD.

She would change her cross-legged position every now and then, and when she couldn't keep it up, she would scratch the back of her neck. When she really couldn't practice anymore, she would steal glances at Grace across from her.

"Could she really be creating some kind of spell slot?" Mia thought to herself, her heart pounding.

This thought made her a little uncomfortable.

Although she had only known Grace for less than an hour, if she learned it before her and the gentleman praised her first, wouldn't she look like a fool?

Mia forced herself to close her eyes.

"Square square square square square square square..." she chanted frantically in her mind, trying to brainwash herself.

In fact, Grace on the other side wasn't as calm and collected as she appeared.

Her magic perception test score was zero. Since she could remember, she had been dealing with various magic mentors.

The entrance exams for the Royal Academy, the private tests conducted by the court sorcerers, and the retired grand sorcerers invited by the family—each one came full of confidence, only to leave with expressions of genuine regret.

Her world of perception was always pitch black, without any of the magical power flowing as described in magic books.

To be honest, what the teacher is teaching them now would be completely heretical in the old magic system, but the teacher is no ordinary person; he is a great magician who was granted a title by the association.

She began trying to construct that box in her mind, but at first it was just a vague idea, without even a shape or boundary.

But she tried to sketch out this idea little by little in her mind, like drawing a picture, slowly forming a frame around it.

  

Unconsciously, the box in my mind became clearer and clearer, as if some warm stream was slowly flowing along the edge of the box.

Is that magic?

Grace's heart began to race, and unexpectedly, the square blurred for a moment, and the warm feeling disappeared.

What's going on? Grace asked, puzzled.

Right, don't get excited. The master said we must remain calm and focused.

Mia's situation is different.

After repeating the word "square" in her mind about two hundred times, she finally managed to form something roughly resembling a square in her mind.

Why say "probably"?

Because the left side of that box is thicker than the right side, and the line at the top is a bit crooked.

Mia herself knows she's ugly, but she doesn't care.

Her father once said that when blacksmithing, you shouldn't judge a work by its finish; if a knife is ugly, it's a good knife as long as it can cut meat. What does it matter if it's ugly or not?

"Okay, the frame is done. The next step is to fill it with magic, right?"

Mia started stuffing magic into the box.

Then the problem arose: her magic would run rampant everywhere once it was released.

She had just put a little magic into the box when it burst out from the upper right corner. She quickly tried to fix it, but then the left side leaked out too.

When I tried to patch the bottom left side, it was missing again. When I tried to patch the bottom side, the entire frame was completely destroyed.

"Depend on!"

Mia cursed and immediately covered her mouth, glancing guiltily at Grace.

Grace remained completely still and paid no attention to her.

Mia breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes again.

This time she learned her lesson and first put in a small amount of material to see which corner was leaking before patching it up, and then put in another small amount of material to see which edge couldn't hold up before reinforcing it.

The process was incredibly tedious, but Mia became more and more excited as she did it because she realized that this was just like blacksmithing!

This felt exactly like when her father taught her how to forge iron.

Mia closed her eyes and a smile involuntarily spread across her face.

Although the crooked square in her mind was still ugly, the four sides were no longer leaking out, and magic was slowly accumulating inside the frame.

Genius! Mr. Joseph is an absolute genius!

Those high and mighty mentors used to look down on her and say, "Miss Taylor, you have a natural lack of self-control, drop out of school."

No one ever thought of giving her a different perspective!

It's as if her inability to learn is entirely due to her being a useless person.

Mr. Joseph was different; in the very first lesson, he taught her something she could actually learn!

Mia mentally added a lot of goodwill to this young great mage.

At that moment, Joseph, completely unconcerned about his image, slumped comfortably in the brand-new dragon-skin sofa and sighed.

This sofa is definitely worth it; every gold coin spent was worthwhile.

The surface of the nylon leather has a natural temperature-regulating magic, so you can sit on it and feel comfortable without feeling stuffy.

He propped his feet up on a footstool, holding a cup of freshly brewed black tea, and listened contentedly to the white noise from the fireplace.

"This is the life a great mage should live."

He sighed, took a sip of black tea, and picked out the largest cookie from the tea tray.

Those two geniuses downstairs are probably still working on that cube with their eyes closed, right?

It's alright, meditation won't cause any problems. You'll fall asleep naturally when you feel sleepy.

Once he estimates that the time is almost up, he goes down and pretends to say a few words like, "It's normal to adapt on the first day," "Go back and practice more," and "You need to build a solid foundation." That way, he can successfully get through today's teaching task.

As for whether they can actually master it?

What a joke.

He himself couldn't even train a spell slot.

That box was something he made up based on what he remembered from the game's UI.

If someone could actually create a mental structure in their head that could be filled with magic, they would eat the dragon-skin sofa.

Joseph yawned without any hesitation, opened a drawer and took out a quarterly assessment notice for the Magic Revival Project, which had been sent urgently by the association.

The document was densely covered with instructions to submit a progress report by the end of the quarter and for the association to send specialists to conduct on-site assessments of the project's progress. In other words, the assignment was due in three months.

He scoffed and tossed the notice aside.

He's familiar with this.

Three months later, you can just make up some paper called "A Preliminary Exploration of the Spell Position Framework Theory" to get by.

The secret to academic defense is to use more technical terms, draw more diagrams, and write the conclusion as vaguely as possible.

If that doesn't work, say that the students' abilities vary and that the experiment needs to be extended.

Since one has zero perception and the other has poor control, it's normal that no results can be achieved.

It would be a miracle if it produced results.

He kept listening to the sounds downstairs, but there was no explosion.

Good, that means the blacksmith's daughter hasn't blown up the lab yet.

This was his biggest worry before, but looking at it from another perspective, it's also a good thing.

If something happens to be burned, the accounting for experimental consumables will be much easier. The dragon leather sofa can be reported as high-temperature resistant experimental seating, and the black tea can be reported as a refreshing and invigorating research aid.

Everything can be balanced.

Joseph nodded in satisfaction and popped another piece of tea into his mouth.

"That's fine, let's just muddle along like this."

Two million gold coins should last two or three years; that should be enough to drag the project out until it's finished.

As for the revival of magic? What does that have to do with him?

He's now focused on improving his quality of life.

He also plans to order a matching dragon-skin footstool and add a few high-end magic crystal ornaments to the laboratory, not for any other reason than to make visitors feel that the place is professional at first glance.

I don't know how much time passed.

Mia suddenly opened her eyes in disbelief.