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

Mia skipped ahead, with Joseph following behind, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over her rolled-up sleeves.

Under the warm yellow glow of the streetlights, a layer of reflective texture, like scales, faintly appeared on her wheat-colored arms, but when he looked more closely, it was gone.

"Mia," Joseph blurted out.

"Do you have dragon blood in your family?"

Mia stopped and turned around, scratching her messy red hair with a blank expression.

"Huh? A dragon? No, sir."

My dad was a blacksmith, my grandpa was a blacksmith, and my grandpa's grandpa was supposedly a slightly wealthier blacksmith." She carefully counted on her fingers as she recalled:

"Besides, weren't legendary creatures like dragons and elves supposed to have gone extinct after the end of the Old Magic Era?"

"It is not extinct."

Grace, who was standing to the side, finally found an opportunity to showcase her knowledge and spoke up:

Other races still exist, but after the end of the old magical era, the magic power of the entire continent is rapidly declining, and all large teleportation arrays are no longer working.

Now everyone can only retreat to their own territory, and there is less interspecies interaction with humans than before.

She paused.

"The Imperial Royal Family currently maintains minimal diplomacy with several major races."

I have seen elven delegations several times in the palace.

"Really?!"

Mia moved closer to Grace.

"I've never seen a living alien race in my entire life! What do they look like?"

Are all elves really long-legged and pointy-eared? Are dwarves really only as tall as my waist and drink alcohol every day?

Grace was so overwhelmed by her barrage of questions that she leaned back, her beautiful brows furrowing involuntarily.

She had only intended to show off her erudition to her mentor, but she hadn't expected the blacksmith's daughter to have such a strong thirst for knowledge.

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"The ears are indeed pointed, and dwarfs are indeed not very tall."

Grace summed it up in one sentence, which was rather perfunctory.

"You'll see for yourself what it's like when you have the chance."

"Oh……"

Mia's enthusiasm was dampened by this bucket of cold water, and she pouted.

Joseph, however, became interested.

For the past six months since he transmigrated here, he has stayed in the college like a groundhog, rarely venturing out except for his dormitory, library, and faculty canteen.

Although the original owner had some knowledge about the races of this world in his memories, it was all fragmented academic information and not systematic at all. Even now, his understanding of this fantasy world was still based on the monster encyclopedia he had read in RPG games in his previous life.

"The elven delegation," he continued.

"How often do they usually come? How large are their delegations?"

Faced with her tutor's question, Grace's attitude instantly did a complete 180-degree turn.

"It usually happens every three years, mainly to renew trade agreements and border agreements."

The last delegation that came consisted of twelve people, led by an elder from the Elven Royal Court named Serena, who had silver hair and was very beautiful.

She recalled the details and then said:

"They presented a moonflower sapling as a state gift, which was planted in the greenhouse of the palace."

It is said that moon trees are difficult to grow outside the elven territory, but that one is still alive, though it grows very slowly.

"And the dwarves?" he asked again. "Does the royal family have any dealings with the dwarves?"

"Yes," Grace nodded.

"The dwarves' territory is mainly in the northern mountains, and they have more frequent trade relations with the Empire than the elves."

Their forging skills remain the best on the continent to this day, and half of the Imperial Army's standard equipment was crafted by dwarven artisans.

However, the dwarves despise formalities, and their representatives always get straight to the point, discuss the price, and leave; they don't even like attending banquets.

Just as the two were having a pleasant exchange, a quiet, sarcastic remark drifted over from the side:

"When I ask questions, I give perfunctory answers, but when the teacher asks, he answers in more detail than an encyclopedia."

Mia stood two steps away, arms crossed over her chest, her lips pouting so much they could hang an oil bottle.

Grace's eyelashes fluttered, and she turned to Mia, her face still bearing that standard smile:

"Miss Taylor, I already answered you."

"You only said two sentences: pointed ears and short stature. Is that what you call an answer?"

"So what do you want to know?"

"For example, what do elves eat? What kind of hammer do dwarves use to forge iron? Is their magic the same as ours?"

Is there anything fun to do...?

"That's enough," Grace took a deep breath.

"I don't know these details either. I've never lived in the elven territory; I've only seen the delegation."

"But you explained it to the gentleman in great detail just now. Never mind, never mind."

Mia waved her hand dismissively, clearly not taking it to heart.

Her attention shifted faster than turning the pages of a book; her eyes darted around and she immediately moved on to a new topic.

"Sir, will we have practical classes in the future?"

For example, going to the elves for on-site research or something?

Joseph: "..."

Leaving the school gates? Going to foreign territory? Are you kidding me?

He can't even ignite a flame right now. If he encounters any accidents on the way, he'll be lucky to escape himself, let alone protect the students.

"First, solidify your foundation," he said without changing his expression.

"Once you've stabilized your first-level spell slots, then we can consider practical applications. Going out without a solid foundation is just a waste of time."

As for going out?

When he goes out again, it will be time to run away, regardless of whether it's practical or not.

"Sir is right," Grace immediately nodded in agreement.

"If your foundation isn't solid, going abroad will just be a waste of time."

Mia nodded obediently:

"That's right, that's right, I haven't even finished building the frame yet!"

But the gentleman said "when you've built it to a stable state," not "if you can build it."

This means that the master believes they will definitely be able to construct a spell slot; it's just a matter of time!

Mia's smile was almost reaching her ears.

The two of them gave themselves a pep talk.

You must practice hard and not let your teacher down!

The faculty canteen is located in the East Campus. It is a standalone two-story building with its exterior walls covered in the same twilight vines as the experimental tower.

Joseph pushed open the door, and a wave of hot, fragrant food wafted out.

The faculty canteen is much quieter than the student canteen.

It's not that the professors don't like to talk; it's mainly because there are very few people who come here to eat.

The Royal Academy has no more than forty or fifty faculty members, most of whom prefer to eat in their offices, with only about twenty actually coming to the canteen every day.

Not only is the environment tranquil, but the decoration is also incredibly lavish.

Every three meters along the wall hangs a huge oil painting of a legendary monk from the old days.

The old monks in the painting all have solemn expressions and hold the Buddhist canon in their hands.

Because they are enchanted with lifelike properties, the figures in these paintings will occasionally blink slowly or turn a page of the book in their hands.

Although their movements are now as slow as a PowerPoint presentation due to the decline of their magic, their style is absolutely top-notch.

Just keeping these portraits running costs the association a considerable amount of money every year.

At the far end of the cafeteria is a row of self-service food counters. Underneath each counter is a row of constant-temperature magic crystals that use the same principle as streetlights—absorbing heat during the day and releasing it at night—to keep the food warm.

Tonight's main dish is the honey-glazed roasted pork ribs that Mia has been longing for.

The tray next to it contained baked snails with creamy mushrooms.

This was originally a cheap street food in the dwarf territory, but after being transported to the capital, it was transformed into a high-end ingredient because it was time-consuming and laborious to pry open the snail shells, which were harder than rocks.

A plate containing only six pieces sells for more than the large spare ribs next to it.

Next to it was a large iron pot bubbling away, filled with a thick soup of pumpkin and dragon's breath.

Dragon's Breath Grass was originally an auxiliary ingredient for mages to refine fire-type explosive potions in the old days. Now that no one knows how to refine potions, the royal chef discovered that it could be used to make soup to enhance the flavor.

There was an old professor in the college who studied fire theory and loved this. He would drink several large bowls of it every meal, which made his saliva have a strange smell when he lectured his students in the afternoon.

The dessert and beverage sections also had a bunch of unusual things. On the fruit stand, there was a fruit called Frostberry, which was only the size of a thumbnail and had a layer of flowing white frost on its skin. When Joseph first ate it, he thought it was chilled, but later he learned that this thing was naturally cool and had nothing to do with magic.

But there's plenty of free stuff.

Today's meal was a great deal, even a bit of a steal.

Joseph was in a good mood and was about to tell the two students to get their own plates when he bumped into someone.

The other person was tall and thin, like a bamboo pole, wearing a dark red mage's robe. The two meticulously trimmed mustaches on his upper lip, styled with hair wax, curled up slightly with his ambiguous smile, making him look like a weasel that had just stolen a chicken.

He also wore the same great wizard badge as Joseph on his chest.

"Oh, isn't this our brilliant Professor Grantham?"

The other person stopped in front of Joseph, his gaze sweeping from Joseph to the two students behind him and then back.

"I heard you finally recruited students?"

Congratulations! Now your practical course can finally be offered.

He added in an unpleasant tone,

"You must teach him well, Grantham."

I can't wait to see what sparks your two promising students will ignite under your guidance at the college's open demonstration class next week.