Chapter 92: Tea Master Causes A Major Disaster

From Mephisto’s perspective, there was simply no way Jiang Cha could have possibly mastered a high-tier necromancy spell at her age.

So when she’d given Jiang Cha those necromancy tomes, she hadn’t expected her to actually learn them.
They were just for reference—so that Jiang Cha could understand the effects of the advanced spells Violet had already mastered, and give better tactical commands later on.

After all, in witch society, asking someone about their mana reserves was considered terribly rude.

Mortel could directly probe Jiang Cha’s mana only because she was her mentor.
Lina could ask because they would be living under the same roof for seven years, and they were practically bound teammates—sharing that information was necessary.

But Mephisto? She had no such opportunity.
And mana didn’t work like those “levels” in xianxia novels, where a single aura flare revealed everything.

There were no clear boundaries.
What witches could sense clearly from one another was mana intensity—that is, casting power—not total mana capacity.

So Mephisto would never in her life have guessed that Jiang Cha—a first-year witch who’d been in school less than half a year, not even into her mana-growth adolescence—already had enough mana to cast high-tier spells.

But in truth, Jiang Cha’s current mana capacity was…

84,581 units.

That was the reading from her medical exam last week.

For comparison, most high-tier spells required a total mana level of around 60,000—counting both quantity and intensity.

In other words, Jiang Cha’s innate mana reserves were already more than sufficient for such magic.
The only reason she hadn’t used them before was that she’d run herself dry after a single cast—making it meaningless in practice.

But now?
After Mortel’s relentless resource infusion and Jiang Cha’s own hard work, her mana intensity—though not yet matching Lina’s—was roughly equal to He Qin’s.

She could absolutely use high-tier magic as a battle trump card.

In fact, even if little Violet hadn’t given her those spellbooks, Mortel herself had been considering letting her learn a few high-tier spells soon.

Each witch’s developed magic could be pushed to incredible heights.
For example, Karel’s sixth-tier field spell [Solar Mirage] could rival a forbidden curse when fully unleashed.
But since Jiang Cha had such raw learning potential—why hold her back?

She could always refine her spells later.

“Holy crap—Estelle! Activate every single alchemical defense artifact you’ve got! He Qin, summon your Guardian and put up full shields! I mean all of them!”

The instant Lina saw Jiang Cha’s red eyes glaze over while her mana began tracing runes, she knew something was wrong.

But interrupting a witch mid-chant in that state was suicide.

So all she could do was send out rapid mana-pulses to alert her roommates.

“Something’s off—shield up! Full power!”

She could feel the abyssal surge of death mana gathering around Jiang Cha, the oppressive build-up before spell release—it was way too dangerous to try and tank head-on.

The golden-haired loli threw up an Energy Shield, then another Magic Barrier, still not feeling safe.
She glanced at the elegant Yamato-Nadeshiko next to her.

“Qin-bao, mind throwing an Immunity to Instant Death on me first? Judging from that aura, whatever Tea-bao’s casting is definitely not a basic necromancy spell.”

“…Death Finger?”

He Qin studied the dense death-energy surrounding Jiang Cha, then nodded, gathering mana to cast protective enchantments for both of them.

Their dorm was practically an apocalypse bunker already—layered with enchanted constructs and magic seals.
Even a low-power forbidden curse probably couldn’t break through; a high-tier field spell wasn’t much to worry about.

Battle-ready witches communicated through mana messages, not speech—it was instantaneous.

By the time all defenses were up, Jiang Cha’s spell had reached its final stage.

The black-haired, red-eyed girl stood there in her silk nightdress, wreathed in death energy that lent her a dangerous, almost bewitching beauty—
the kind that tempted you toward death.

Utterly mesmerizing.

As her pale, bare foot stepped lightly forward—

—the death mana she’d been holding erupted.

Sixteen bone spikes burst from the floor, and in an instant they spread, growing wildly outward until they covered a radius of ten kilometers.

The dorm alarms screamed across the campus.

“TEA-BAO, YOU LITTLE—! It’s freaking Bone Bastion! When you wake up I swear I’m gonna pin you down and thrash you six ways to Sunday!!!”

Lina’s reflexes kicked in instantly; as the first bone spikes appeared, she released a surge of fire mana, forcing it underground to clash with the death energy.
The collision barely kept the furniture and flooring in their dorm intact.

That was standard procedure against field magic—overpower it with stronger, opposing mana to disrupt its stability.

She’d chosen fire mana to counterbalance the death energy, and in that split second, it was enough to preserve maybe the size of their living room.

Outside, the rest of the dorm complex was fine.
Every student building was equipped with full-range protection wards—
and for good reason.
This kind of “accident” wasn’t exactly unprecedented.

“Phew… I bet the Academy Security Squad’s on their way right now.”

Lina glanced at Jiang Cha, who stood amidst a forest of bone spires, her figure wreathed in deathly energy like some apocalypse witch.

Lina sighed deeply.

“Whatever. My Tea-bao’s just too pretty for her own good. I’ll call Tutor Carol to come smooth things over—Qin-bao, tidy up the living room.”

The Academy’s security witches were a pain to deal with.
Without outside intervention, Jiang Cha’s little stunt would mean at least a 10,000-coin fine and three days of detention for “unauthorized magic release.”

But with a mentor’s help, they could just file a “training mishap” report instead.
The fine would still stick—but at least she’d skip detention.

“……”

“What’s going on?”

In a separate dormitory, Mephisto—dressed in pure white sleepwear, calmly reading with a cup of tea—looked up at the sound of a spell-alarm, her roommate scrolling through MagiNet beside her.

“Spell failure? Happens sometimes. Usually first- or second-year students losing control. The effects are minor, though.”

“Definitely nothing big enough to trigger a third-year dorm’s alarm.
When I saw that massive Bone Bastion field, I almost thought Violet had gone berserk—scared me half to death.”

“Apparently it was a first-year prodigy who tried self-learning high-tier necromancy… tsk tsk. First-year, ten-kilometer radius, level-8 field spell—kids these days really are monsters.”

“First-year…”

A bead of cold sweat slid down Mephisto’s temple.

A first-year.
Necromancy.
That kind of power.

Other than Jiang Cha, she couldn’t think of a single person who fit that description.