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

"I heard that someone also saw a shadow at the abandoned gate."

"Don't scare me. That abandoned gate area is full of stalls during the day and pigeons at night. What's there to hide in there?"

"What about the one at the dock?"

"Who knows? Maybe it got carried away by the ship."

"Even if you run away, you can't just leave without getting paid, can you?"

After listening for a while, Mia's excitement gradually subsided.

She looked down at the flower she was holding, then at Joseph, and whispered:

"Sir, I haven't heard anything like this happening in Grey Pigeon Town lately?"

"Haven't you been at the academy a lot lately?"

"That's true."

Mia thought for a moment, then couldn't help but look back at the workers.

  

"But it's pretty scary that something like this happened near the academy, isn't it? We're not far from the North Gate, what if…"

She didn't continue.

Joseph knew what she was thinking, of course, but in a place like the Grey Pigeon Market, people chatting at the roadside stalls could come up with at least five versions of a conspiracy. These things sounded scary, but if you really thought about each one carefully, you wouldn't get anything done today.

The essence of gossiping is to listen and let it go; if there's something really going on, leave it to the professionals.

Although Grey Pigeon Town is chaotic, it is at least located under the Royal Academy.

If something serious happens, the town patrol will take care of it; if it's more serious, the city's defense knights will handle it; and if it involves monsters, cults, or relics of old magic, then there's the church too.

The church has always had a good reputation, at least it sounds more like a legitimate organization than the Magic Association.

At least in my memory, there was a church next to the White Dove Wharf. The priests there treated the dockworkers, presided over funerals, and occasionally took care of troublesome things like lost children.

Not to mention that the church seems to be selecting the next saintess recently. It is said that each candidate for saintess has to take on a lot of things from a young age, mainly to let the gods see that they are indeed working hard, and then select a saintess designated by the gods from among them.

But in this world where gods have fallen and magic has declined, it's best not to overthink whether this is a divine choice or a human one.

It's good to be a little confused sometimes.

Therefore, this matter has absolutely nothing to do with him.

"Don't rush to conclusions," Joseph said.

"Rumors from the streets are often amplified by emotions. Just remember what you hear, and don't interfere rashly, as it may disturb the person who is actually in charge of the matter."

Mia nodded seriously.

The gentleman had indeed begun to observe. In her spare time, she liked to listen to bards sing stories and had also read some adventure novels. In those old stories, the adventurers would rush over with a howl as soon as they heard that something had happened, and in the end, they would either get trapped or make a mess of the scene. Although the protagonist could get what he wanted in the end, the process was too terrible.

This is different from what a great magician does; perhaps this is how a great magician handles problems!

"I understand, sir."

Joseph glanced at her, somewhat puzzled.

What do you understand?

He suddenly realized that he could no longer tell whether the students understood what he said or were just reinterpreting it in their minds.

However, it's not a big problem. As long as she doesn't rush over to those movers and ask if they're talking about a missing person case, then she'll understand.

"Let's keep going."

"good!"

Mia immediately perked up and led Joseph deeper into the market. The further they went, the fewer proper food and household items they saw, and the more old parts and secondhand materials they found.

Some stalls displayed rows of magic lamp wicks that no longer lit up. The outer shells of the wicks were black, and one was even cracked in two. The stall owner wrapped it up with thin copper wire and placed it in the most conspicuous position.

"These were salvaged from old-fashioned college dormitories!"

The stall owner patted his chest and said to a young student in a college uniform standing in front of his stall:

"Take it back and fix it; it might have research value!"

Young students squatted in front of the stall, their faces showing a mixture of wanting to buy and fearing being cheated.

"But how do we fix this?"

"This involves advanced magical techniques, young man." The stall owner had an expression that said, "I shouldn't have said so much, but since you seem to have a connection with me,"

"You're a student at the Royal Academy now, you can't expect others to tell you everything, can you?"

What is the significance of scholarship? It is exploration—facing the unknown and searching for the remnants of wisdom from bygone eras amidst the brokenness!

The young students were stunned by what he said.

Joseph listened with utmost respect.

Good heavens, not only do they sell bad goods, but they also manage to mentally pressure buyers. No wonder this place can survive next to the Royal Academy; these stall owners are practically all unqualified instructors.

And to be honest, this rhetoric sounds somewhat familiar.

Joseph suddenly realized that if he ever failed to escape from the Royal Academy and was forced to lose his job, he could always set up a stall at the Grey Pigeon Market.

A little further on, the road narrowed. Grey Iron Alley was in the latter half of the market. Before he even got really in, Joseph heard a series of loud banging noises and several people arguing at the top of their lungs.

"Who told you to put the spring in there? That's a buffer, not a spring!"

"You drew your own blueprints that looked like they were crawling with worms, and you're blaming me?"

"Quiet! The stove's about to go out! Someone go add more coal!"

"Sir, this is Gray Iron Alley!" Mia pointed ahead.

The shops on both sides were almost all blacksmith shops, repair shops, and recycling shops, with strange signs hanging at their doors. Although it was assumed that the whole street was for repairs, Joseph still couldn't tell whether a smelly sock hanging at the door meant shoe repair, leg repair, or something else that was hard to say.

"Where is your father's branch office?"

Mia craned her neck to look ahead. "It should be just ahead."

As she spoke, she suddenly added somewhat uncertainly, "If he really does rent it..."

"you do not know?"

Mia scratched her head, puzzled, and said:

"My dad always makes decisions on the spur of the moment. He might say he wants to rent it yesterday, and the stove could be moved in today."

He said that a blacksmith can't wait until he's thought everything through before he starts working, otherwise by the time he figures it all out, it'll be all gone.

Joseph: ...

That reason sounds very Mia-like; they're definitely family.

The two continued forward and soon saw a blacksmith shop that was slightly larger than the one next to it. A newly made wooden sign hung at the entrance of the shop, with the words "Taylor Blacksmith Shop Grey Dove Branch" written in bold black letters.

Mia couldn't hide her smile any longer.

"They really rented it!"

She ran a few steps with the tide in her arms, then suddenly remembered that Joseph was beside her and quickly stopped, pretending that she had only gone a little too fast.

Joseph looked at her trying so hard to be composed but failing miserably, and suddenly found it a little funny.

Perhaps because it had just been moved in and hadn't been tidied up yet, there was a pile of miscellaneous items piled up in front of the shop. Mia was about to rush forward and call for help when a group of people rushed out in front of her.

"I've already said it! Your local businessmen didn't follow the installation instructions at all!"

The speaker was a short man wearing an oddly cut short jacket, with many small bags hanging from his waist. He had a pair of round goggles perched on his nose, making his already large eyes look even more like two glass beads. Behind him stood two other people dressed similarly.

Over there, where he referred to the local merchants, stood several men who looked like merchants from Grey Pigeon Town. The leader was a man with a full beard, a bunch of keys hanging around his neck, and an account book clipped to his belt. His entire demeanor screamed, "I paid, so I'm the loudest."

The bearded merchant shouted:

"Bullshit! What do you mean we didn't follow the instructions? Your instruction sheet looks like a child's scribbles! Seventeen arrows are pointing to the same hole. How are we supposed to know which one your Dwarf Merchant Guild tells us to screw on?"

"That's because you can't understand standard mechanical drawings!"

"Standards? Your standard as dwarfs is that a normal person would want to stuff the blueprints into a furnace after seeing them?"

"You're insulting the Chamber of Commerce's technology!"

"Your beat-up axle started smoking after just a few spins yesterday. Did we insult it?"

As more and more people gathered, Joseph initially wanted to avoid them. He had no interest in hearing the details of this after-sales dispute, and judging from the tone of both sides, they had probably been arguing for most of the day. Now, whoever got close would be in trouble.

The problem is, as this group of people continued to curse, they actually managed to squeeze into Taylor's blacksmith shop.

Mia panicked immediately upon seeing this.

"Sir, I'll go take a look!"

After saying that, she grabbed the bouquet of flowers and rushed toward the shop.

Joseph watched her hurried figure and sighed inwardly.

Oh no, I shouldn't have gone out today.