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

Chapter 79 Speaking Starts with Not Understanding the Atmosphere

Joseph's heart skipped a beat. This guy actually managed to respond, which gave him a reason.

"You could say that."

"From the moment I entered the academy, I learned the most standard spells," Brewster said. "I've always believed that only sufficiently stable spells are worth learning for students."

"That's why I didn't like your project at first."

Joseph thought to himself, "You didn't just dislike me, you practically etched the word 'liar' into your mustache with the look you gave me."

"But those black lines in the well prove one thing." Brewster looked at him, "In this age of magical decline, even stable old magic may be completely ineffective in the face of some unpredictable anomalies."

If a stable system cannot handle real dangers, then its stability itself should be questioned.

Joseph: "————" You really dare to say that.

If those old professors at the academy who uphold the old magic heard this, half of them would probably clutch their chests and lie down on the spot, while the other half would stand up and curse Brewster for betraying the practical training faction.

Who would have thought that the first to question the stability of the old magic would not be Academician Wade and his group who studied anomaly theories every day, but rather this bearded professor?

As if oblivious to the complex expression on Josephine's face, Silust continued, "So I wonder if new magic could offer another possibility."

I will personally go through the process you described.

Professor Grantham, I am willing to temporarily set aside my original understanding of magic and re-examine my direction.

Please assess whether I possess the necessary qualifications to learn new magic.

The office fell silent again.

To be honest, Joseph originally just wanted Brewster to go back and think about it for a few days. Who knew that this guy would sit here and, in just a few words, complete a self-reflection on the old magic system, and even be ready to rethink life.

We can't exactly ask Brewster to go back and write a personal growth report of no less than 30,000 words, along with his childhood experiences and reflections on his use of magic, can we?

Joseph paused for a moment before finally speaking, "Professor Brewster, an evaluation is certainly possible, but I must explain beforehand that the results of training in new magic cannot be guaranteed. Even if you understand your direction, it doesn't mean you'll necessarily be able to create a new spell."

I'll put the disclaimer first, so that if someone practices for half a month without any results, they won't come back to me asking for a refund, even though I don't think I charged them any tuition.

Wait, let's get back to the point.

Is Brewster now considered to have voluntarily applied to join the project? If so, a practical professor participating in new magic training should be included in the association's review materials, right? And shouldn't professor-level researchers participating in the project normally receive some additional funding?

  

Joseph's previously troubled expression suddenly softened considerably.

"We can do a preliminary assessment first," Joseph said.

"You agree?" Brewster's eyes flickered slightly.

"This is just a preliminary assessment," Joseph emphasized. "Formal instruction hasn't begun yet, and it doesn't mean I'll immediately include you in the core training of the new magic program."

This needs to be made clear, otherwise absurd rumors might circulate, such as "Professor Brewster has become a disciple of Grantham, and the Practitioners have officially acknowledged the revival of new magic."

Although such rumors might not seem entirely without benefit to him, the risks are too high.

"I understand," Brewster nodded.

"Then go back and write a self-analysis," Joseph said.

"Self-analysis?"

"Yes," Joseph coaxed. "Write down clearly the old magic you relied on most in the past, the characteristics of the old magic that you consider most important, the point of failure you couldn't accept in the well, and what problems you hope the new magic will help you solve."

Joseph found this approach increasingly reasonable, as it not only bought him time but also allowed him to extract new ideas from it. This made him seem like a mature mentor!

"Don't write it like an academic report," Joseph added. "Write your real thoughts."

Brewster was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I will write it."

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief; at least the weasel could leave for today.

"Give it to me after you're done writing, and I'll decide on the next step," Joseph said.

"Okay." Brewster pushed the copy of the report on the table forward a little. "Here's a copy for you."

Joseph took the document; judging by its thickness, he knew it must have been written in great detail, but he had no desire to open it for the time being. He decided to save it for when he really couldn't sleep and use it to help him fall asleep.

Brewster got up to leave, but stopped at the door.

"Professor Grantham."

Joseph looked up and asked, "Is there anything else?"

Brewster looked at him, his tone still as harsh as ever: "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have gotten out of the well that time."

Joseph was slightly taken aback.

Brewster quickly added, "That's also a fact written in the report."

After he finished speaking, he pushed open the door and walked out, and the office became quiet again.

Joseph sat in his chair, looking at the copy of the report on the table, his feelings a complex mix.

What's this? Is the weasel thanking him or submitting an alliance request? Oh well, it's just that Brewster's brain, after being stimulated underground, suddenly produced a mutation that is beneficial to the project's development, so it's not a bad thing.

Anyway, he figured he could deal with any problems when he got back, so he decided to go downstairs first and eat the students' cake. After all, a mature mentor shouldn't let the students' hard work sit in the meeting room for too long.

As soon as he went downstairs, he heard Allen's energetic laughter coming from the living room.

"Haha! This pattern is supposed to be a hammer and a flower? I thought it was a red mushroom and a spider!"

Mia:

'

Grace:

Allen was completely unaware of why the two girls had suddenly fallen silent, and continued to comment enthusiastically.

"For your first time making this, ladies, it's already excellent! Although Sister Evelyn's was a bit softer, yours is huge! Such a big piece, I could easily eat two more! Hahaha!"

Joseph: "————"

If this knight continues, this cake might become the scene of the latest dessert accident at the experimental tower.

He pushed open the door to the reception room, coughed lightly, and asked, "Did you save some for me?"

"I'll keep it!"

As soon as Mia saw him, the stiff expression that had been on her face when Allen spoke to her came back to life.

"I left the biggest piece for the gentleman!" she said, pointing to the plate on the table.

Sure enough, in the middle of the plate was a piece of cake that was cut crookedly but was clearly a size larger than the other pieces.

Joseph nodded in satisfaction; the situation seemed salvageable. Just as he was about to go over and sit down, there was a knock at the door of the experimental tower. A teaching assistant from the academy hurried in and bowed to Joseph at the door.

"Professor Grantham, Academician Wade's meeting is about to end."

The teaching assistant glanced at Evelyn and Allen and continued, "If you have time now, Academician, please come over here with the two from White Dove Church."

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