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

Joseph looked at Grace, though he really wanted to say no.

Because he was really tired, people usually don't have any great educational ideas growing in their minds at times like this. At most, they only have a little dissatisfaction with the world and a simple wish that everyone should know that they should respect other people's sleep on weekend mornings.

But the problem is, standing in front of them is Her Highness the Third Princess.

Whether it was out of basic respect for royal authority, or because she had just put a bouquet of flowers that looked very expensive into his vase and casually gave him a box of royal pastries, Joseph found it difficult to directly tell him to go back first, as his mentor needed to continue lying down and contemplating life.

He who accepts a gift is bound to be obligated to give it; he who eats another's food is obligated to do the same. Although he hasn't eaten yet, morally speaking, this debt has already been incurred.

Although he doesn't have much moral character either...

"Of course," Joseph could only say with a gentle expression.

Grace breathed a sigh of relief and asked:

"Sir, Mia said she...successfully yesterday."

To be honest, Joseph wasn't surprised at all. Mia probably wanted to tell the whole story to everyone. Grace would find out sooner or later if she ran into her.

However, Mia can't be blamed for this. After all, a student who used to practice the Light spell incorrectly would feel bad if she didn't show off her red-gold sparks and soften crystals.

However, for Grace, this was clearly not just good news.

Sometimes, people aren't afraid of being slow themselves, but they are afraid of the person next to them who was slow with them yesterday suddenly taking a step forward and rushing ahead. What's even more outrageous is that the other person will turn around happily and ask, "Why didn't you come with me? Did you not want to?"

Anyone would find that unbearable.

Joseph looked at her and asked, "Did she tell you?"

"Yes." Grace nodded. "She said the gentleman told her that the fire was light."

  

Joseph: "..."

He did say that, but he said it mainly to get Mia to keep making up stories.

Who would have thought that this nonsense, once it entered Mia's mind, would actually turn into some kind of furnace light spell?

Grace lowered her eyes and asked cautiously:

"Sir, my question is...where is my light?"

Joseph was taken aback.

"If Mia's light can be the warmth of a hearth, then what should my light be?"

The office was quiet for a while.

Morning light streamed in through the window, making the silvery-white bouquet shimmer gently in the vase. Surrounded by the flowers, Grace looked like one of those melancholy beauties hanging in the palace corridors.

Joseph started to get a headache just looking at her.

He's not selling lamps, how would he know what kind of light each person has?

What's the difference between this and someone who comes to him early in the morning and asks, "Who am I? Where do I come from? What is the meaning of my existence?"

The difference was probably that Grace asked more politely and even brought him some snacks.

However, asking questions before making a decision can buy him some time to think.

"Grace, why do you feel that your light must first have a name?"

The office fell silent again.

"Mia first figured out what light energy could do, and then the name became appropriate. It didn't exist because I gave it a name."

As Joseph spoke, he frantically searched through a jumble of memories from the past.

Light spell, isn't that just a basic little trick from a role-playing game?

You touch something and it lights up, illuminating a certain area. It stays lit for hours without getting hot, and you can't use it to start a fire. Its main purpose is to save the lives of people in the team who don't have night vision.

In the game, players can also throw it onto a rock and then throw the rock out to explore the way.

Thinking about it again, the spells for light in this world seem pretty much the same. A standard spell for light requires a stable output of magic power, and the color, as mentioned before, is pure white.

Old spellbooks even specifically state that a proper light spell should illuminate a space within ten steps, without burning paper or interfering with crystal recordings; if extra colors appear, it is not a light spell.

To put it simply, the academy hopes that students will train themselves to become useful lamps. Although these days, it's already good enough if everyone can learn a small spell, so let's not expect too much.

Thinking about this, Joseph felt like he had grasped something he could talk nonsense about. He organized his thoughts and said:

"Actually, in the old system, the Light spell was very simple. They gave you a fixed template, and you just had to reproduce an exact copy of the spell according to their requirements to pass."

Grace nodded. She understood all of this. As the most basic magic, she could say she knew the spells by heart. Unfortunately, she had never been able to light up the spell before she met Mr. [the teacher]. Even now, she had only managed to light it up for a moment during the demonstration class.

"However, according to the old system's definition, the magic that Mia could cast would be a failed light spell."

Joseph said, "But it can soften the resin even when it's illuminated, so is that considered a failure?"

He even seemed to admire himself a little as he said this. It sounded like he was reflecting on the old system. Could he be a genius?

However, Joseph didn't want to hear her reply. The best response to a question was to ask one in return, so he quickly continued:

"Mia's light is the fire in the furnace because that's how she lived; everything she understood started with blacksmithing."

And what about you? What were you thinking when you first made the white light appear?

Grace opened her mouth but didn't say anything.

What was she thinking when she first made the white light appear?

She was thinking that she couldn't disappoint her husband, and she also hoped to prove that she wasn't just a third princess who would only cause regret.

But she couldn't bring herself to say these words. If her husband knew that when she first lit up the white light, she was thinking about these messy, embarrassing, and weak things, would he think that she didn't understand the new magic at all?

What if Mr. thinks she turned such an important demonstration lesson into a way to salvage her pitiful self-esteem?

Joseph looked at Grace in silence, feeling somewhat confused.

Why is it not quite what he imagined?

Is this question too abstract?

Indeed, when a student asked him what light was, he retorted by asking the student what they were thinking at the time, which is quite like those old professors who don't want to answer questions.

Joseph thought about it and had no choice but to continue patching.

"What I mean is, what really matters is how you imagine light to be, instead of treating Light spells as a standardized thing."

Joseph felt his story was getting weirder and weirder, but he had already started, so he could only keep making things up:

"Light can provide illumination, but it's not just for illumination."

After all, in many fantasy works, light is just a bunch of random but seemingly valuable things like will, belief, purity, blessing, and hope.

"Some people use light for illumination, but light can also be used as something to prevent oneself from being swallowed by darkness."

After he finished speaking, he himself felt that his words were a bit too abstract.

This is as absurd as a drunken bard standing next to a fountain spouting nonsense to passersby.

But Grace listened very attentively, which made Joseph feel a little guilty.

He quickly added:

"Of course, none of this means you can completely ignore the structure."

"You need to be more cautious with your spell slots. Draw magic in gradually; don't rush to make it visible. First, determine what that light means to you, and then let the spell slot contain it."

Grace looked at him intently.

"Sir," she asked softly, "so, can my light shine entirely for myself?"

Joseph felt a headache coming on.

Why are you still asking?