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

The term "spell model" was just a smokescreen that Joseph casually threw out to forcefully continue the lecture.

The pit has now been dug deeper, and the two students are sitting upright at the bottom of the pit, looking at him with eager curiosity.

As a mentor, I have to put something in this hole next.

Talking about fireball? No, fireball is too dangerous.

Mia already possesses magic. What if she actually manages to create a fire based on some nonsensical magic model he made up? Who will compensate for the damage to the experimental tower?

Whether the association will reimburse him or not is another matter; the key issue is that the leather sofa he just bought is still upstairs.

Talking about healing techniques? Absolutely not.

Treatment sounds gentle, but it's actually the most troublesome thing. If it works, great, but if it goes wrong, who's responsible? He's someone who can't even ignite a flame, yet he's talking about treatment models. Isn't that just sending himself to the infirmary and the courtroom?

Teaching ice magic? That's dangerous too. What if the teaware gets damaged by the cold? The teaware provided by the association isn't cheap.

Joseph felt a headache coming on as he thought about this.

You must choose a small spell that is safe enough that even if you break it, it won't cause any damage.

He rummaged through his skill set from the RPG games he had played in his previous life and finally settled on the perfect choice to delay the teaching progress.

Lighting technique.

In the old magic system, this thing was basically a toy used by novice magic apprentices to familiarize themselves with magic.

Making a crystal shine, or suspending a point of light on your fingertip, is at best like a flashlight that doesn't need batteries.

It has no offensive capabilities, no healing effects, and if it fails, nothing will happen at all; the room will remain as dark as ever.

perfect.

"Today, we will only do the most basic spell model embedding exercises."

We need to try embedding light into your spell slot framework.

Joseph, with his hands behind his back, calmly said:

"The light spell in the old magic system is a simple and crude way to force magic out of the body and make the magic glow in the air."

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This method relies heavily on the caster's control over the release of magic, so it requires a very high level of talent and mental stability.

But in my new magical system, this is the least efficient approach.

Without batting an eye, he continued to fabricate his dubious theory.

"The new magic I'm going to teach you, Light, is to anchor a stable light-emitting command model within the spell slot."

This is like setting up the structure of the light source in advance in an absolutely sealed, dark room.

As long as the model doesn't crash, the light won't go out.

"Light-emitting command model..."

Grace repeated it softly, and her pen immediately began to move.

"Yes." Joseph nodded in satisfaction, and naturally continued to fabricate the details:

"You don't need to sense the light elements in the outside world. You just need to use your mental power to draw a static node representing brightness in the center of that square spell slot."

Envelop this node in magic, completing the structural engagement, and then release it.

Mia frowned, racking her brains for a moment to understand, then cautiously raised her hand:

"Sir, do you mean... like when forging iron, first let the molten iron shine and set in the mold, and then pour the luminous cutting blade out of the mold?"

Joseph glanced at her.

He never expected that the encapsulation and instantiation he had concocted using game logic could be perfectly translated by this guy using the logic of blacksmithing.

"...Although the analogy is a bit rough, the core logic is the same. You can understand it this way."

Mia nodded, a smile involuntarily spreading across her face.

She felt that her comprehension was off the charts today. She couldn't understand the theories her mentors used to talk about, but she understood Mr. Joseph's explanations immediately!

Indeed, there are no students who cannot be taught, only teachers who are not good enough!

Meanwhile, Joseph was secretly making plans.

The vocabulary of deceptive terms is almost exhausted.

Let's shut them up and put them into self-isolation mode.

"Now that the theory is covered, it's time for practical application."

Now, close your eyes. Try embedding light models into the spell slots you've created.

Remember not to rush to let the light show itself to the outside world.

Explicitization is merely the final, insignificant step; what truly determines success or failure is the absolute stability of the model structure in your minds.

It's best to just keep thinking about it in your head and never actually let anything happen.

It's in line with his teaching goals that he can't produce the message; everyone should just wait it out until the end of get out of class.

Upon hearing this, Grace and Mia immediately closed their eyes, and the living room fell silent.

As for why we're still teaching in the reception room...

It was simply because he was too lazy to clean up the teaching area. Hiring someone to clean it would cost him money anyway, and since what he taught was all made up, it didn't really matter whether it was in the reception room or the classroom.

Joseph turned to look at the whiteboard. As a dutiful archmage, he couldn't appear idle, even if the students were meditating with their eyes closed.

He picked up a charcoal pencil and decided to use this time to draw a few more complex figures on the whiteboard and write a couple more lines of incomprehensible derivation formulas.

After all, the more profound the mentor's presence, the stronger the students' sense of awe.

As he turned his back to the two students, intently adding bricks to his academic fraud, Grace's mind slowly conjured up the image of that perfect square spell slot.

Compared to a few days ago, the boundaries were much clearer. She abandoned her obsession with the perception of magic and followed her teacher's teachings completely, beginning to use her pure imagination to outline the light within that box.

She lit a tiny white dot of light in the center of the square.

At first, the light flickered like a candle flame in the wind, with faint signs of dissipation at the edges.

Grace forced herself to slow her breathing, focusing all her energy on the point of light, and slowly fixed it in the center.

Stablize……

Absolute structural stability is the essence of the new magic!

A wonderful sense of resonance came from her fingertips.

A faint but exceptionally pure white light silently appeared on the tip of Grace's right index finger.

Grace almost forgot to breathe at that moment.

Light! It's light!

This was the first time in her life that she had truly unleashed magic!

The light was so faint, barely enough to illuminate the tea table, but to Grace, it was brighter than all the crystal chandeliers in the palace combined.

On the other hand, in Mia's mind, the scene was completely different.

The thick, ugly spell slot also appeared. Mia looked at the thing she had created and tried hard to suppress her obsessive-compulsive urge to use her mind to materialize a hammer and smash it flat.

The master said that a model representing light should be engraved inside.

But here's the problem: she's a blacksmith, and she's never carved anything like this before.

She carved anti-slip patterns on knife handles, carved a large iron hammer pattern on the signboard of her own blacksmith shop, and even carved a gatekeeper beast that looked like both a dog and a pig for her neighbor's wooden door bolt.

But how should the light be cut?

Mia thought about it for a long time, until her head ached, and finally she just gritted her teeth and made up her mind.

Why think so much?

The light, isn't it just the brightest and hottest strip that's freshly taken out of the oven?

She simply imagined a crack that had just been quenched in her mind, and then roughly directed the light pattern into her spell slot!

The spell slot in my consciousness trembled violently, as if it were about to crack.

Mia was startled and instinctively wanted to swing a sledgehammer into her mind and smash it solid.

No! The master said that we should experience integration, not violent suppression!

She gritted her teeth and forcefully resisted the urge to swing the hammer.

The restless, scorching magic within her body swirled wildly along the edge of the heavy frame, finally colliding with the light pattern she had forcibly embedded into it.

The next second, a small cluster of wild red-gold sparks burst forth from the tip of Mia's right index finger.

Mia opened her eyes in surprise and almost jumped off the sofa:

"Oops! Did I...did I make a mistake?!"

At that moment, Joseph, who was facing away from them and intently drawing a nine-square grid of factions on the whiteboard, stopped drawing with his charcoal pencil.

A mistake? That's normal.

After all, this theory is all made up by him. If you can actually come up with anything, that would be truly amazing.

It's probably because I meditated for too long, causing a visual afterimage.

He turned around calmly.