Professor Irien activated her mana and split the puppet in half.
My jaw dropped, a silent scream bursting from my chest.
‘My hard work, my painstakingly crafted masterpiece!’
She rummaged through the bisected puppet, poking and prodding.
“It’s still crude. Filthy.”
She grumbled, pulling out a scroll and starting to inscribe something.
Sneaking a glance, I saw her draw a circuit so beautiful that it couldn’t even compare to the ones I’d created.
It was easier to understand than the scroll she had given me before.
The design exuded a freshness, like a tree in full bloom.
After completely obliterating the puppet into dust, she sipped the tea Butler handed her and folded her arms.
Her mana swirled with an almost tangible irritation, pressing heavily on the room.
“It’s awful, absolutely awful. Do I have to teach you how to draw circuits, too?”
I couldn’t say a word, pinned to my knees under her overwhelming mana.
‘Look at that circuit. If a mage who can create something like that says my circuits are trash, then they must be.’
“But magic is interesting. There’s a uniqueness to it.”
She pulled out another scroll and tossed it at me.
“Write down every spell you know.”
I hurriedly spread the scroll on the floor and grabbed a pen.
Infusing it with mana, I wrote feverishly, listing every spell I knew.
From basic magic to the cheap spells I’d collected over twenty years, to the custom spells I had created by combining them—all of it went onto the scroll.
Magic, as a concept, was a kind of intellectual currency.
Mages rarely shared their spells, and when they did, it was sold at exorbitant prices.
As a low-tier mage, the only magic I could access was the cheap, discarded kind.
When I finished and set the pen down, Professor Irien snatched the scroll.
Her expression soured as soon as she read the first line, and it only worsened as she reached the end.
“The problem lies in your magic itself.”
She clicked her tongue.
“These spells at the end—did you create them?”
“Yes, I modified them for use with my puppets.”
“Hmm, I see.”
‘Did she like them? Based on everything so far, probably not. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope.’
“They’re a bit lacking—no, they’re very lacking. There’s a lot to improve.”
‘Of course. My hope deflated like a punctured balloon. But one thing became clear: she was genuinely trying to teach me.’
I straightened my posture and opened my eyes wide, determined to absorb her every word as though they were pure gold.
“Still, I can see what direction you’re trying to take.”
She drew lines across my scroll, striking through spells, then handed it back.
I carefully took the scroll and opened it.
Most of the spells I had painstakingly collected over twenty years were crossed out—especially the expensive attack spells I’d spent a fortune on.
“I left only the decent ones. Focus on mastering these.”
I reviewed the remaining spells.
A cleaning spell for mopping floors.
It had been inspired by water whip magic, which I had adapted for cleaning purposes.
Naturally, water whip magic was crossed out.
A spell for purifying the air.
Based on wind blade magic, I had tried to create a cycle by spinning the blade.
Predictably, wind blade magic was also struck through.
Most of my creations followed this pattern.
The only exception was an explosion spell—my self-destruct technique, which I had cherished since I first began making puppets.
Over the years, I had refined it to maximize power while minimizing cost.
This one had only been half-crossed out.
What remained were cheap utility spells and my custom creations.
As I reviewed them, her intentions became clear.
“Does this mean attack magic is entirely out of the question?”
“Attack magic? For you?”
She looked at me with a perplexed expression, tilting her head slightly.
“You said you wanted to get into the university. But you lack talent. Do you think you can beat others in a fight?”
‘I couldn’t. Memories of the swordsman from the last test came flooding back. Every strategy I used had been thwarted with a few casual swings of his blade.’
“Look at the magic you’ve created. The way a mage develops magic reveals their disposition and talent. And yours? It’s all utility magic—not to harm others, but to make your life easier.”
‘She was right. It was something I hadn’t realized before. I had always assumed I lacked talent for attack magic. For a wandering mage without any background, her insight was beyond my comprehension.’
“And universities don’t admit people just because they fight well. Well… fighting well does make it easier.”
She paused, accepting another cup of tea from Butler and taking a sip.
“Anyway, you’re hopeless in that area. So focus on what you’re good at.”
‘What I’m good at? I didn’t even know what that was. For twenty years, I hadn’t pondered it, merely drifting from day to day to survive.’
After some thought, the answer came to me.
What I’m good at is…
“Yeah, you’re good at taking care of others.”
‘Wait, did I hear that wrong?’
“Just cram as many utility spells as you can into your puppets. That’s your talent.”
‘Wasn’t this the part where she’d point out some amazing ability I had? I stared at her in confusion.’
“Why do you think I chose you? I didn’t expect extraordinary talent. Your puppets were useful, so I decided to bring you to the university.”
She sipped her tea again, handing the cup to Butler.
Butler politely received it and tucked it away.
I slumped, dazed.
“That’s your homework for tomorrow. If you don’t understand it, there’ll be punishment.”
She placed a scroll with drawn circuits on the workbench and walked out of the workshop.
Another assignment.
I carefully unrolled the scroll.
Its beautiful patterns filled me with despair. ‘I don’t understand it at all.’
And the idea that my talent lay in taking care of others?
My insides burned briefly, but I forced myself to cool down.
‘Professor Irien said it’s my talent. Whether it’s true or not, I need to accept it as truth.’ No, more than just accepting it—I had to believe it completely. Shifting my mindset, her words began to resonate deeply. ‘She’s right about everything, isn’t she?’
From the moment I left the island, my success wasn’t because I excelled at magic—it was because I excelled at making puppets.
Utility spells, decorative spells—these were what brought me here.
The same applied to my shop.
I never sold combat puppets.
Only those designed to make life easier.
Not just because combat magic was difficult for me, but because utility puppets were easier to make and sold well.
Even founding my shop had been about finding something safe and comfortable.
Roaming outside was too dangerous, no matter how great the rewards.
Looking back on my last ten years of attempts, they had been a mess.
I had focused on competition, wasted money on attack spells, and failed to grasp my own strengths.
The result? An 11-time test failure.
Competing with others had been my biggest mistake.
“I was a fool.”
I swallowed a sigh.
‘Could I ever surpass those combat prodigies? It was laughable. Those damned swordsmen could shred my attack magic like paper.’
‘Trying to compete with them proved my stupidity.’
‘Professor Irien was right, a hundred times over. She had discerned all this just by examining my magic. Her insight sent chills down my spine. She truly was extraordinary.’
I resolved to create the perfect servant puppet.
As she suggested, I would abandon combat entirely and focus on safety and comfort.
I’d craft flawless service puppets that could satisfy any mage.
That way, I wouldn’t need to compete with anyone.
If there was a stronger person, I’d serve them.
If there was a fight, I’d avoid it.
Reflecting on the last test, I realized I had lost because I tried to win.
But what if I had provided excellent service instead—enough to secure a draw?
Even if I hadn’t won, I might have survived.
The stronger opponent would have treated me as just another sparring partner, passing by.
With my explosion spell for safety and a gesture of comfort, I could have convinced them to settle for a draw.
A revelation dawned, nourishing my resolve.
Providing unrivaled service to anyone—strong or weak—was my true path.
I placed a block of wood on the workbench.
There was no time to rest.
Every second was precious.
Studying the circuits on the scroll, I began carving into the wood.
I had already wasted 20 years since leaving the island.
I couldn’t squander a single moment of the precious time Professor Irien had given me.
For the next ten months, I would follow her teachings and hone my magic to the fullest.