Chapter 26: The Mage Will Always Be a Money‑Burning Profession

A witch’s growth is an inherently expensive undertaking.

Beyond tuition, purchasing special magic spells, magical gear, and magical items, even the daily costs of studying during a growth period are huge.

The way witches resist knowledge infiltration is essentially by hardening their mental energy. A witch’s mental coefficient determines how many units of mental energy she has, and thus how strongly she can resist infiltration.

But that coefficient is innate. Although magical power has a positive correlation, individual differences are still quite large.

So what can a witch whose mental coefficient is low do to catch up? Or even a witch whose coefficient is high but wants to speed up learning?

Training mental energy is the conventional—and very slow—way. In the short term, to accelerate…

You have to spend money.

The “mental elixir” the girl constantly thought about was exactly one such tool.

To be precise, it’s any substance that speeds up mental energy recovery. But mental elixirs are the most common.

They are also the most consumed among all elixirs.

Low-tier mental elixirs are fairly simple to manufacture, and witches have long since industrialized their production. But the rate of raw material production is not fast; and since the demand for such elixirs is nearly endless across witch society, their price is usually high—perhaps double that of other equally industrially produced elixirs of the same tier.

Put simply:

Jiang Cha can’t afford it.

Since she can’t afford to buy them in the shop, she has no choice but to make them herself. The Magical Elixir Club provides materials at 80% of the regular price and buys unlimited amounts. The amount she saves in that give‑and‑take is enough for her own use.

So she resolutely set her next learning focus.

“Jiang Cha-chan, next time don’t do something so dangerous. Without external help, there’s a limit to how much infiltration the brain can withstand over time.”

He Qin was dragging the girl into the academy infirmary for a checkup as she murmured this. Jiang Cha listened with some helplessness.

The “checkup” was nothing more than a device scan, and the result came swiftly: Jiang Cha’s condition was a textbook “witch syndrome.”

“Overexertion.”

In plain terms: still the fault of not being able to afford spending. To cure it, a bottle of mental elixir would have done the trick. (For the ten duels she had promised earlier, the elixir was kindly supplied by rich-girl Lina.)

Without such a high-quality mental potion, she would’ve needed to rest five days to continue studying—or worse, she might not even be able to attend class.

“Hehe… this time it was just a mishap developing my innate magic. Next time I’ll definitely be careful.”

The girl offered an awkward laugh, partly embarrassed at her impulsiveness, mostly at the continuous scolding from He Qin, like a mother. She could only sneak a glance at Lina.

She sincerely apologized—but resolutely refused to repent.

“Exactly, plus witches all have moments of overexertion. In the lab, upperclassmen sometimes drop dead from it after pushing themselves too hard.”

Lina, ever attuned, chimed in, though a little sheepishly. As a wealthy girl, she had never experienced real overexertion. She basically studied late every night, but a preemptive potion in the morning restored her energy. During the day, she might sneak in naps—like a typical overworked senior in high school.

“Sigh…”

He Qin sighed. She wondered how she didn’t see even a hint of genuine remorse in those two who always pushed her to exhaustion. But truthfully, she, too, was caught in the grind. Which young witch goes to bed early these days?

Though she couldn’t afford the high-end potions that Lina could, she could manage lower-tier ones—squeezing by with 2–3 hours of sleep a day was her style. No one had the moral high ground. Everyone was a “power grinder,” so she gave up lecturing.

“Qin Bao, want to go to the dueling club together?”
“Hmm…”
He Qin hesitated. She didn’t really like dueling, but she also wanted to act together with friends. If she could spare one day per week…

“Let’s go, let’s go! We’ll form a squad in year two for dueling class. It doesn’t hurt to get some preliminary experience now!”

He Qin was persuaded.

So the three of them went to the dueling club.

Let me reemphasize:

Though witches are typically among the face-pretty races, the ones in dorm D12 were among the most beautiful. But Lina was already famous in the dueling club. She had excellent social connections, and her background was intimidating: if anyone messed with her, the Nois family (not the social Nois, but Lina’s sisters in Eslon Academy) would come after them.

He Qin, on the other hand, mostly stayed tucked away. Outside the classroom, her forays were limited to the market or the Puppet Club. With a bit of social anxiety, she had almost no friends outside her dorm.

Jiang Cha was even more socially behind. She’d just joined; she barely knew her classmates.

That’s why no upperclassman had targeted them yet.

If they had, the wolves in the academy would’ve trampled D12’s threshold by now—just like those girls who flummoxed the trio earlier.

“Scram! Don’t get in the way! Go do what you’re supposed to do!”
In the end, Mentor Carol came and shooed away the group of lewd upperclassmen, saving them. More precisely, she saved He Qin, the socially anxious one.

Lina already knew several seniors in the dueling club. And Jiang Cha’s social skills weren’t bad, only He Qin was cautious—so those seniors had never bothered her.

“Yo—what a surprise!”
As a first-year mentor, Carol already knew quite a bit about He Qin.

The Puppet Club’s prodigy, able to build 4th-tier puppets even before enrollment; her combat system was already well-developed in mechanical puppet control.

“Good things, good things. I’ll reward you later.”

“Eheheh~ Then I want to learn your [Scarlet Sun] spell!”

The golden-haired loli jumped with excitement. She didn’t need material rewards, but Carol was the ace battle witch of the Sculpting school—Lina long admired her spells.

“Opening your mouth for a 6th-tier magic? Kid, your appetite is huge, huh?”
Carol sneered.

“That’s not enough, unless…”
Lina originally wasn’t expecting much—she was just making small talk.

Sixth-tier magic is no trivial matter—even for a great witch it could be a tactical centerpiece. And Carol’s Scarlet Sun was a rare environmental magic in the Sculpting discipline—part of her own tactical system. It was essentially non-sellable, even for money.

But that “unless…” reignited Lina’s ambition.

“What? What? Mentor, you say it! Anything I can do!”
This golden-haired girl was clever—she only asked for what she could realistically attempt.

Her most expensive assets were her two resource-world territories. Trading one rare 6th-tier magic might come at a premium, but it would be worth it. Better than incurring her mother’s wrath as a red dragon…

“Not so dramatic. Just bring your team and win first place at the Witch Cup. Teach squads at the dueling club had no decent candidates lately. The first-year teams have lost three years in a row. Last time, your sister’s squad took top with the score.”

Lina froze. That’s so unfair!

“The Witch Cup?”
Jiang Cha asked softly.

She had guessed Lina really wanted Carol’s magic. And for one to provoke Lina’s uneasy expression—curiosity compelled her.

“The Witch Cup is basically a school league—nothing major. I’m just shooting my shot. That audacious Limyr Academy over there’s gone a bit overboard.”
Carol waved it off, as if she’d said it casually.

“Don’t think it’s that easy, Cha Bao.”
Lina sighed softly.

“Winning in duels is just part. Even if I lead our squad to beat the first-year teams, total points might not add up for championship.”

“Oh? Little Lina, you don’t believe in me?”
Kacy popped out from nowhere, looping Lina’s neck with an arm, whispering.

“How could I not?!”
Lina hurriedly denied.

“If you’re not confident in your sister either?”
“Then that’s even more absurd!”
“…”

They teased each other for a while, and between them, no one mentioned the Witch Cup again.

Jiang Cha barely knew anything yet; He Qin had no interest in dueling. So there was no point going deep.

“Mentor, your plan failed~”
Once the three walked away, Lina tugged Jiang Cha toward battling Kacy and elbowed Carol while grinning.

“How can that little rascal resist temptation?”
Carol looked helpless. Her plan was to tempt Lina with the spell; Lina would push the others, and she would guide four top picks—then the first-year squad’s total points would be secure. But Lina flat-out rejected it.

Carol didn’t believe the trickster hadn’t understood the hint.

“Whatever, let it go. Limyr might not even have good candidates stepping up.”
Carol gave up thinking and settled into spectating the duel.

“Those three are real potential. That He Qin—I once observed first-year duel class.”
“Her puppet tactics are surprisingly complete already. I wonder which puppet master she apprenticed under?”
“You’re not wrong.”
The sultry black-leather-clad mentor grinned.

“The Puppet Boutique, ever heard of it?”
“Knew of its revival style, but He Qin—”
Kacy looked toward the duel ground, where He Qin had summoned twelve mechanical puppets in combat and defense, waging a war of attrition with Lina. She fell silent.
“Who knows, but she used to work there. She says she’s not their disciple—do you believe that?”
“Of course not! Which grandmaster would take a low-tier puppet artisan as an apprentice?”

And so the conversation trailed off.