Perfect Black Tea
“Would you like some black tea?”
“Uh… sure.”
The butler began pouring tea into the cup in front of the professor. It might look like a simple process of just brewing black tea, but the magic embedded within was anything but simple. It contained the essence of the “perfect black tea” magic I had refined through relentless research over the past ten months.
The black tea in the cup started to layer itself, each stratum possessing a different temperature and texture. These layers gradually merged into one, forming a certain shape. Five such shapes emerged in total. Each one existed like a mere dot before blooming in an instant. A fragrance born from the tea enveloped the surroundings intensely. They had blossomed into five flowers within the clear tea.
Not just brewing delicious black tea, but infusing it with beauty as well. This was my perfect black tea.
The professor picked up one of the tiny flowers that had formed in the cup and placed it in her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly.
“Uh… what’s this?”
“It’s the magic I just completed. I drew inspiration from the flame flower and ice flower spells you showed me three months ago. Seeing how each petal bloomed at different temperatures to create the most beautiful flower, I wondered what if I applied those spells to tea.”
Of course, that wasn’t the end of it. These flowers only bloomed and held their form at precise temperatures, so maintaining a constant heat was crucial. That’s why I used a warming spell on the cup itself, ensuring optimal temperature right up until it was empty. I had experimented with and dismantled nearly thirty spells just to perfect this one cup. In that process, the temporary life-imparting spell I created to preserve the flowers’ fragrance, texture, and shape gave them a fleeting semblance of life.
The professor lifted her cup again. A faint smile played on her lips. Success. I clenched my fist tightly.
The flower, infused with life, bloomed lightly and produced a spoonful of honey. It was delicately tuned just for her, who loved sweets.
The butler subtly moved behind the professor. Six new arms extended from its back—additions I’d made recently. The butler began gently massaging her limbs with those arms. At the same time, the spells embedded in the doll’s arms activated. A very mild electric spell roused the muscles slightly, followed by constant vibrations from another spell to relax them immediately. A mana-flow spell then scraped away residual mana from her body, aiding circulation and guiding mana to the extremities.
This was the secret technique I had honed to perfection: the massage spell. The effort to create this optimal massage spell had been grueling. To test the scale of each spell, I hammered them all into my own body. Amid that agony, I fine-tuned them to a level she’d enjoy, tested them on others, and finally completed the “perfect massage” spell.
“Uh… that feels good…”
This massage spell was, in truth, a kind of trick. A mage’s body was meticulously managed by their own mana tree—practically the ideal physique, lacking nothing. How do you bring satisfaction to such a body? I started by wondering if weakening that state artificially might work. Apply a false shock to tense the muscles, then release it perfectly for an even more comfortable state than before. That was the process behind this massage.
After the massage, it assisted with stretching, extending fully relaxed muscles beyond their limits and guiding her to the utmost comfort.
After receiving the massage for a good while, the professor slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze, filled with pleasant satisfaction, turned to me.
“You.”
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes. Thank you for your concern. I’ve already packed my things.”
“Good. If you perform at the level you’ve shown over the past year, you’ll pass. If not, I’ll kill you.”
Cold sweat broke out in an instant. Over the past ten months, through various ordeals, I’d learned the professor never spoke idly. If she hit, she hit. If she killed, she killed. That threat just now was undoubtedly sincere.
“I’ll do my utmost to pass and prove your teachings weren’t wasted on me.”
“Mm. You’d better.”
The professor closed her eyes again, sinking fully into the doll’s hands. Soft snoring began to emanate from her. In these quiet moments, she looked just like an incredibly cute girl. But surely, boundless mana churned endlessly within her.
All those spells were already embedded in the butler’s circuits, so I didn’t strictly need to be here. But I couldn’t just leave. How could I entrust the professor solely to the doll’s hands? She was my lifelong benefactor, the one who had guided me all this time. I kept fine-tuning the butler’s circuits moment by moment, striving for even more optimal movements. A little more comfortable, a little more soothing. I adjusted the spells to fit her petite frame.
The sun rose and set again. About ten hours after the massage began, the professor slowly opened her eyes. She glanced at the darkening window outside and waved her hand.
“Go. Prepare for the exam.”
“Understood. I’ll take my leave then.”
There was still more to adjust, but I sighed inwardly and backed away toward the stairs. I gave her a deep bow one last time before descending to the workshop. At the entrance, I cast a locking spell, fully sealing off the workshop from the first floor.
Only then did the tension ease. In the past ten months, I’d learned so much. Magic, circuits, dolls, knowledge of the world. I knew full well what a massive opportunity it was to learn from the professor, so I clung to it for dear life.
Of course, I wasn’t foolish enough to think she had no ulterior motive in teaching me. Who invests a full year in someone like me, with no background or talent? There was definitely something. But I had no idea what.
I glanced at the contract inscription on my wrist. ‘If you pass the university entrance exam under Irian’s tutelage, you pledge to serve Irian until graduation.’
If I passed this exam, what would she have me do? Every time I looked at this contract, unease stirred. What use could the university have for someone like me? Would they seize my body and soul right away, turning me into a slave?
“Still, I should be grateful.”
I muttered to myself. Knowledge was more precious than gold. Even with some conditions, the mere fact that someone had appeared to teach me magic was a miracle.
I sat on the bed, lost in thought. The professor was always cold and domineering. When I fell short of her expectations, punishments worse than death followed. I learned what it felt like to have my soul split from her. Yet when she smiled at the magic I created, in that moment, I felt true pride. Not just in advancing my cultivation, but in growing as a person.
I reached for the grimoire on the desk. It was my personal textbook, compiled from the past ten months of lessons. I flipped through it page by page, reminiscing.
The first lesson, with all those doll blueprints she’d dumped on me. Thinking back still sent shivers down my spine. I still didn’t fully understand them. shoving that at me on day one was surely meant to crush my spirit from the start. Each page held a day’s memories. The days of failure researching the perfect black tea spell, the moments groveling after her beatings, the growth amid it all. Every instant was a valuable asset.
“Still not enough.”
I murmured softly. I desperately wanted to pass the exam. To avoid dying at the professor’s hands, but more than that, for myself. I wanted to reap the fruit of this brief miracle.
I took a sip of the tea. The flower melted in my mouth, releasing a thread of sweetness. The pleasant sensation brought a faint smile to my lips. To create this with magic. Quite impressive.
“Wonder what he’s up to.”
I narrowed my eyes and focused my mana. It pierced through the crude protective spells he’d set up and peered into the basement. The boy was clutching a book, grunting away. I stroked my chin watching him.
“Hm, didn’t expect him to go this far.”
The doll he called the butler resumed the massage. I infused some mana into the doll’s body. Still full of inefficiencies. But it showed a different level of completion from yesterday. The kid had grown incrementally like this. To reach this point in just ten months—who would’ve thought.
I knew his mediocre talent well. Top among those who barely failed the university entrance. I hadn’t expected such rapid growth from him. Did I have a knack for teaching? Was that why the dean a thousand years ago forced me into this professor role?
I chuckled at the thought. As if. I knew myself well. I was no teacher.
I ordered the doll to stop the massage and pour more tea. It pulled out a teapot from its chest and began brewing. Flowers bloomed anew in the cup. One sip filled me with a pleasant aroma and warmth.
“Mm, he’s a good kid.”
How could I not grasp the meaning behind this magic? It was tuned solely for me. He called it the perfect black tea spell. I could easily tell “perfect” was a title fitted precisely to my tastes. He knew it too and named it that deliberately. To please me. I didn’t hate that cunning.
Quick-witted mages lived long. Beyond this, the kid had churned out all sorts of odd spells. Last week, it was the perfect cushion spell. Things I’d never have imagined. I’d told him to learn support magic, but not to this extent.
Magic to assist others. These spells delivered a pleasant shock to me, who had only ever thought of mages as solitary, complete beings. Great noble houses employed hundreds of such servants? I’d never understood that inefficiency, but recalling the past ten months made me nod. A comfort I’d never felt in five thousand years of life.
These strange magics, combined with his dollcraft, had evolved into something beyond imagination—like now. Combat prowess was another story, though.
“Still, he’s fun.”
I’d been dreading having to stick around the university for the next century, but with him by my side, time might fly. At first, I’d raised him just to use as a disposable mage in a pinch. He’d never graduate anyway before dying of old age, so I figured I’d slave him for life. But now, my thinking had shifted a bit.
He’d become a fairly novel mage in others’ eyes. The university’s old fogeys would like him too. He probably would’ve passed eventually even without me. After another thirty years of study or so. Thanks to me, he’d do it in one.
Come to think of it, he was the first human I’d ever properly taught in this lifetime. I lightly tapped the doll. It resumed the massage. This was why I’d chosen him. This comfort. The pleasant ease enveloped my body.