I made up magic and taught a world-destroying witch?

When Joseph entered the drawing room, he immediately saw Grace and Mia, who were still sitting a great distance apart.

Grace sat on the sofa on the left, her back straight, a notebook on her lap, and a quill pen and ink bottle neatly arranged on the edge of the coffee table, even the direction of the pen nibs seemed to have been calculated.

Mia sat on the sofa on the right, cross-legged, holding a small notebook in her hands. Her hair was a little messier than a few days ago, as if she had just fought with something that didn't exist.

The tea table in the middle doesn't seem like a tea table; it looks more like a border line.

Great, it's the same familiar location, the same familiar distance, and the same familiar students.

Joseph sighed softly to himself.

Time always flies when you're slacking off. It felt like he'd just slept in a few times, eaten a few decent meals at the faculty cafeteria, and casually flipped through a few pages of an ancient book on the leather sofa. In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.

Three days is enough for a diligent student to complete a round of review, and also enough for a competent slacker to come up with different ways to prolong the course.

He walked to the whiteboard, glancing at the two students out of the corner of his eye. At least they didn't rush up to him and ask, "Sir, did I succeed?", "Sir, did I fail?", "Sir, why is the upper right corner of my frame bulging out?"

What does this mean? It means that his educational policy of not coming to me as soon as he gets a feeling has taken effect. After all, there's no point in wasting his time on something that can't possibly succeed.

When students are mentally stable and mentors lead a comfortable life, that is the ideal teaching state.

"How's your training going these past few days?" he asked.

Grace lightly touched the notebook cover with her finger. She was supposed to tell the man that she had been able to reliably construct the prototype of a first-level spell slot. Although the frame was still very fragile and would shake with the slightest emotional fluctuation, it did exist.

This was the first time in her life that she truly touched magic without relying on others, without relying on her status as a princess, and without relying on any respectable comfort.

But when she saw her husband come down the stairs, all the words she had prepared were swallowed back.

As the master said, don't rush to confirm things as soon as you have a feeling.

If she were to show her results to her husband right now, wouldn't that mean she's still eager for confirmation?

As the professor's student, she shouldn't have been so eager to ask for his approval so soon after she had even begun to understand things. With that thought, Grace removed her fingers from the notebook cover and calmly said:

"Still in the observation phase, sir."

Upon hearing this, Mia immediately glanced at Grace.

Well, the Third Princess isn't going to tell us.

She didn't say it, but she still succeeded.

Although her frame is a bit ugly, ugly as it may be, it really can hold that warm magic.

What does this mean? It means she has also found the magical spot the master mentioned!

Mia really wanted to be the first to tell the man, but if Grace didn't say anything, wouldn't it make her seem impatient?

Moreover, the master made it so clear that we are not allowed to come and confirm as soon as we feel something.

Mia Taylor was a composed person. So Mia straightened her chest and tried her best to appear very steady.

"I'm still warming up the furnace."

Joseph looked at the two of them.

Very good. One is still under observation, and the other is still in the warm-up stage. It seems they are still just imagining things. It's no wonder he has slept so soundly these past few days.

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He secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but he couldn't talk about the cube anymore.

They've already asked a bunch of random questions about this one square. If we keep going, sooner or later someone will ask him questions he doesn't even understand.

We need to find a new approach, no, a new direction for teaching.

"Now that you have had a few days of basic and stable practice, you can move on to the next stage today."

"Of course, I'm not asking you to embed the model immediately." Joe

Cerf added,

"Just understanding the direction of the next stage in advance, and knowing what the container will contain in the future, will actually help you stabilize the container itself."

Grace's eyes lit up almost instantly, and Mia sat up straight as well.

Joseph was very pleased to see their reaction.

Great, it seems that as long as the topic is made complicated enough, students won't ask any new questions.

"We've been discussing the construction of spell slots for the past few days."

He picked up a charcoal pencil and drew a square on the whiteboard, then said:

"But you must remember that a spell slot is merely a container, not the spell itself. The old magic's casting logic was to directly mobilize magical power, relying on willpower and incantations to propel it out."

Fire, ice, light, and healing are essentially different manifestations of magic in the process of its release.

He drew a few more lines next to the box.

"But the new magic is different. The new magic first constructs a spell slot, completes the magic encapsulation, and then embeds a specific spell model inside the spell slot."

Grace paused slightly at the tip of her pen.

"Spell model..." she repeated softly.

"Yes." Joseph nodded. That was a good word.

He originally wanted to suggest putting skills into spell slots, but that sounded too much like a game description. Switching to spell models immediately gave it an academic feel.

"The spell slot is responsible for providing a stable container for magic power, while the spell model is responsible for specifying how the magic power is output."

Grace had already memorized it quickly, her heart beating slightly faster, as the teacher finally began to explain the content after the spell slots.

As expected, the master already knew that they had already made a preliminary grasp of the threshold of magic, but he simply did not point it out.

This was only after the teacher confirmed that they would not be impatient for quick results, and then allowed them to access the next stage of knowledge.

Otherwise, why talk about spell model embedding today?

Grace lowered her head and wrote in her notebook:

"The spell slot is the container, and the spell model is the output rule. The new spell casting process is to encapsulate magic power, load the structure, and trigger the output."

Mia looked at the whiteboard, her brows furrowing slightly.

She roughly understands encapsulation and triggering output, but what is loading structure?

Is something being put in there? And can it be taken out after it's been put in?

She hesitated for a moment, but finally couldn't help raising her hand.

"Sir, is loading a structure... like... stuffing things into a box?"

Grace couldn't help but glance at her.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief.

Very well, finally we've come up with a question he can fob off with an analogy.

"That's one way to understand it," he said, looking at Mia.

"A spell slot is a mold, and a spell model is the pattern inside the mold."

Mia was taken aback.

Joseph continued:

"First, you let the molten iron enter the mold, and then let it take shape along the lines in the mold."

Without patterns, molten iron is just molten iron; with patterns, it becomes a sword, a badge, a key, or other concrete object.

Mia's eyes gradually brightened.

She understood now, she really understood. Spell slots weren't just iron basins for randomly dumping magic; spell slots were molds.

Light spells, fireball spells, and healing spells are like different patterns in a mold. The same molten iron poured into different molds will produce different results.

So what you mean by embedding the magic model is to first carve the patterns into the mold, and then pour in molten iron!

"I understand!" Mia nodded vigorously and quickly wrote it down in her little notebook.

The drawing room was silent for a few seconds. Grace looked up and stared intently at Joseph, as if waiting for the next, more profound question.

Mia hugged her notebook tighter. Although the first page of her notebook only contained four crooked words, she now felt that she was someone who kept academic records.

As Joseph looked into the two pairs of bright, sparkling eyes, a sense of foreboding suddenly arose in his heart.

What are they waiting for?

Oh, they're waiting for him to continue.

The problem is, he hasn't figured out what to say next.