Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

He walked back to the table and sat down again: "The magic network doesn't exist as a regular physical entity. You need to adjust your way of thinking and try to understand the world from the perspective of a spellcaster."

Lillian bit her lower lip: "What is the caster's thought process like?"

Lance thought for a moment, then raised his right hand: "Look at my hand."

He spread his five fingers, then slowly closed them. As he closed them, five points of light appeared at his fingertips—white, red, blue, green, and yellow.

"Ordinary people see the hand moving," Lance said. "But what the spellcaster sees is magic gathering at the fingertips, shaping it through specific gestures, triggering the resonance of the corresponding nodes in the magic network, and thus creating a small-scale accumulation of light elements."

The points of light spun above his palm, arranging themselves into the shape of a pentagram.

Lillian opened her eyes wide, trying hard to understand what she was saying.

"Is it too complicated?" Lance asked.

"Yes... a little," the girl said honestly.

"Then let's try another way." Lance dispersed the light. "Your mother was a warrior; have you ever seen her practice swordsmanship?"

"I've seen it! My mother practices swordsmanship in the courtyard every morning!"

"Alright." Lance nodded. "When a warrior wields a sword, he needs to engage his muscles, coordinate his breathing, and control the angle and timing of his strike. Only when these elements are combined can an effective attack be launched."

He paused for a moment: "Magic is the same. Except we mobilize mental power instead of muscular strength; we coordinate with incantation syllables instead of breathing rhythm; and we control the spell model instead of the angle of the sword strike."

This analogy seemed to make something clear to Lillian. Her eyes lit up: "So... learning magic is like learning swordsmanship?"

However, after trying for a long time, Lillian felt nothing except for back pain and dizziness.

The first afternoon of teaching ended with the disappointment that Lillian failed to perceive the magic network.

As the sunlight outside the study window turned from blazing white to golden yellow, Lance glanced at the magic hourglass on the wall—three hours of teaching time had come.

Lillian's eyes remained closed, her small face tense, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She had been in a meditative posture for over forty minutes, her breathing steady but with a barely perceptible tremor—the fatigue from excessive mental concentration.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Lance said softly, breaking the silence in the room.

Lillian suddenly opened her eyes, her amber pupils filled with disappointment: "I...I still can't feel it."

"That's normal." Lance stood up, stretching his stiff shoulders. "I've seen people take three months to sense the magic network for the first time. You've only been here for one day, what's the rush?"

This is a lie.

In fact, if one hasn't even vaguely sensed the magic network after a month, it can be determined that it is Chunzhu, who may never be able to unleash a single magic trick in her entire life.

There's no need to dream of becoming a mage anymore.

Even so, Lance was somewhat surprised. The Silver Glow family's genetic talent should be quite good; Arya was a level 10 warrior, a peak elite-level warrior, and a half-step exemplar.

As her daughter, Lillian's intelligence attribute should not be too low—it should be at least 12 points or more, which is enough to make her a formal mage.

The first time you perceive the magic network, you should have a vague feeling about it.

Why is it so difficult to perceive the magic network?

"Could it be that the warrior's bloodline is too strong, suppressing the mage's talent?"

Lance looked at Lillian.

[Target: Lillian Silvershine]

Race: Human

[Class: Heart of Flames (Warrior Variant)]

[Level: 4]

"This girl is so young and already a full-fledged professional, level 4, one level higher than me..."

Lance pondered to himself that there were indeed some families with powerful bloodlines in the Forgotten Realms, whose descendants were often locked onto specific career paths.

The Silvershine family has been warriors for generations, and perhaps the warrior blood flowing in Lillian's veins makes her unconsciously reject the connection to the magic network.

"Professor Lance..." Lillian spoke softly, interrupting Lance's thoughts, "Do I... lack talent?"

The girl's voice trembled almost imperceptibly, and her amber eyes, so similar to Arya's, were now misty.

"We mustn't hurt the young girl's fragile heart..."

Lance walked over, squatted down, and looked her in the eye: "Look at me."

Lillian looked up.

"Talent isn't measured in a day," Lance said calmly. "I ask you, when your mother first held a sword, could she cut through an iron stake?"

"No...no." Lillian shook her head. "My mother said that she started practicing swordsmanship at the age of seven, and in the first year she couldn't even wield a wooden sword properly."

"Then why do you insist on sensing the magic network on the very first day?" Lance countered. "Give yourself some time, and give the magic network some time. It has existed for billions of years; a few more days won't make a difference."

This analogy seemed to make Lillian feel a little better. She pursed her lips and nodded vigorously, "I understand. Tomorrow... I'll try even harder tomorrow!"

"It's good to work hard, but don't be too tense." Lance reached out and ruffled the girl's fiery red hair—it felt much softer than it looked. "The magic network repels anxious, restless souls. Relax, and it will be willing to come closer to you."

"Hmm!" A slight smile finally appeared on Lillian's face.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the study door.

"Please come in," Lance said.

The door opened, and Arya stood in the doorway. She had changed into a deep purple loungewear dress; the soft fabric clung to her curves, and her fiery red hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders, giving her a more languid and beautiful look than the sharpness she had during the day.

"Is the class over?" She walked in, her gaze shifting between her daughter and Lance.

"It just finished." Lance stood up. "Lillian worked very hard, but it takes time for her to sense the magic network."

Arya walked over to her daughter, knelt down, and hugged her: "You've worked so hard, my little star."

Lillian buried her face in her mother's arms and mumbled, "Mom, I didn't succeed..."

"It's only the first day, what's the rush?" Arya's voice was incredibly gentle, completely unlike the fiery warrior she was on the battlefield. "You fell seventeen times when you were learning to walk, and now you run incredibly fast, don't you?"

This statement made Lillian burst out laughing.

Arya looked up at Lance: "Mr. Lance, please stay for dinner. It's to thank you for your hard work on the first day."

Her gaze lingered on Lance's face, her amber eyes gleaming with an indescribable light.

The gaze was so direct, even carrying a hint of hunting scrutiny, that Lance's heart skipped a beat.

His 19 points of charm attribute had long been used to being stared at, but Arya's gaze was different—making Lance inexplicably feel as if he were about to burst into flames.