Dead Man's Harem. Since I can't kill myself, I'll find other ways to be happy. Chapter 87: Private Magic Lesson with Madame Elisa, Part II

"The young countess is in your care, then," the commander said gravely for the second ti, as he left to rejoin the rest of his battalion.

"Now Devon, watch here. Collect mana in front of you like so" Mada Elisa instructed as a pack of howler monkeys began to approach the commander, whose sword was already raised in anticipation.

Devon raised his hand and concentrated on the air in front of him, concentrating mana in front of his palm.

[Blessing of the Witch has been activated.]

A distortion in the air in front of him began to show up, but unlike the mada's neat and tidy volleyball-shaped ball of mana, Devon's energy was chaotic and uncontrolled, causing a faint turbulence in the space in front of him that lifted the mada's sorceress robe up to her inner thighs.

"Hey, watch it~" Mada Elisa laughed. "Try to control the mana, and shape it into a ball. Then, once you've done that you can convert it to whichever elent you choose. You're converting the mana to wind magic too early here!"

"Alright," Devon grunted, his brows furrowed in concentration and a bead of sweat traveling down his face. "I'll try."

Collecting mana into a ball, Devon attempted to do as the mada instructed. He felt the mana flowing out from an internal mana circuit that was [Blessing of the Witch], but the mont that it ca out it imdiately turned into an uncontrollable gust of razor sharp wind that cut him on the arm.

A bead of blood rolled off of his arm and joined the hand sized tornado forming in front of him, spinning like a towel dropped into a laundry machine at full blast, as more blood began to materialize and coalesce in front of him.

"My god, Devon, your mana is turning into a mixture of the wind and blood elents. I've never seen anything like this before, and dual elent control too!" exclaid the busty mada in shock. "But you need to control your mana you have so much mana, but your control is wild and disorganized. Focus on the mana, shape it with your mind!"

As she said that, the mada let loose another flaming fireball at the pack of howlers that jumped on the commander. As the smoke dissipated after impact with the biggest howler monkey that grabbed his shoulder, the commander was singed but otherwise okay, and the howler monkeys were stunned montarily.

"Thanks!" he shouted back towards the mada, giving her a big old thumbs up with a grin on his face.

The mada rely crossed her legs while standing and nodded at him, then made a shooing gesture with her hand.

The ball of chaotic wind and blood energy that ford in front of Devon's face simply exploded into a gust of wind that knocked him back onto his ass. Little did he know, the reason why he had so much trouble maintaining the mana in pure form before converting it into an elent was because mana processed from [Blessing of the Witch] was already near-converted mana, since Hecate herself preferred it that way.

It made it easier to cast and more efficient, but thrusting such a complex mana circuit to a complete novice like Devon with no instruction was a bit of a joke.

"Ugh, this is really hard," Devon replied, getting back up and rubbing his sore butt that hit the ground.

"Here, I'll help you relax~" said the busty sorceress mada Elisa. She walked behind Devon and gently pressed her thin fabric and warm bosom into Devon's back, while tracing her hands up his muscular arms, directing and massaging them so that he was more ready to cast again.

"When you're dealing with mana manipulation, you have to relax your muscles. Let your mind do the work, alright sweetie~"

Blowing a hot breath into his ear, the sultry mada squeezed and massaged his shoulders and triceps, easing him into his next spell.

"Now, try again," she said softly.

Devon nodded. Raising his moonlight steel sword like the mada did with her staff, he began to conjure up an aggregate clump of mana in front of her, focusing on morphing it and shaping it like it was a lump of clay in front of him.

But the clay was silky and airy, and escaped between the gaps of his taphorical fingers. It was a strange phenonon to describe, but the mana from the [Blessing of the Witch] felt like a highly lubricated, oily piece of dough that just kept slipping out of his grasp, every ti he tried to form it.