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

Joseph glanced at the notebook.

From the first line to the last, the handwriting was neat and tidy, with paragraphs and numbers, and even special annotations made with different colored inks!

The top line reads in beautiful cursive script: "Several Questions Regarding the Construction of Spell Slots, First Draft"

A first draft? This thing actually has a first draft!

Mia, who was munching on a piece of toast, craned her neck, and after reading the words on it, said with a headache:

"No, why are you asking so many questions? Weren't you just like me this afternoon, making a square with your eyes closed?"

When did you write this?

"Before practice begins and during breaks," Grace said matter-of-factly.

"No wonder she's from royal family," Mia muttered to herself.

"Even the questions are listed so neatly. The last time I wrote anything was when I signed my expulsion notice."

Grace glanced at her.

"Miss Taylor, if you'd like, I can lend you a basic note-taking format manual."

Mia immediately lowered her head and started eating her bread.

  

"No, no, I think I'm fine the way I am."

Joseph picked up his Stardew Mint Tea, took a sip, and used those few seconds to organize his thoughts.

Asking questions is not scary; what's scary is when students ask questions they themselves don't know the answers to.

But the great mage cannot back down.

He especially could not back down in front of two students who had just begun to admire him.

Joseph put down his teacup.

"Ask away."

Grace opened her notebook.

"The first question is about the shape of the spell slot."

Joseph's heart sank slightly.

coming.

"You said the standard shape for a first-circle spell slot is a square. I'd like to confirm, is this shape an absolute choice, or just a starting point?"

Joseph remained expressionless, but inwardly rolled his eyes.

Well, he drew squares simply because they were the simplest.

You can't just draw a circle, can you? It would look terrible if it wasn't a perfect circle.

As for other things, he didn't think about them at all.

But he couldn't say that. A qualified mentor, even if he has nothing in his heart, must still have something to say.

Joseph hesitated for half a second.

Not absolutely.

Grace's eyes lit up slightly.

"A square is just the most basic load-bearing structure."

Joseph's mind raced, and he began to fabricate random skill icons from different classes in his past life's games.

"The geometry of the spell slot directly determines the efficiency and stability of the magic encapsulation."

"The first ring spell slot uses a square because the square structure is the most stable, the boundaries are the clearest, and it is most suitable for beginners to establish a basic framework."

"At higher ring levels, the shape of the spell slot will change depending on the school, magic attribute, and purpose of the spell."

Fire, ice, healing, and protection—each requires a different encapsulation structure.

At this point, he stopped talking abruptly.

"However, you don't need to worry about these details now. Let's focus on building a solid foundation first."

Grace lowered her head and quickly jotted down two lines in her notebook.

Her heart was racing uncontrollably.

As expected, the gentleman had planned everything in advance!

She thought the slight difference she noticed during her afternoon practice was just her imagination, but she never expected that it had touched the core of the spell slot structure!

The square is the most stable frame that the teacher carefully chose for beginners.

Higher-level magic even has its own unique structure that matches specific attributes!

In other words, what the teacher taught them today was not just a simple box, but the first cornerstone of the entire new magic system!

The more Grace thought about it, the more she realized that her own smug understanding from that afternoon was utterly shallow and laughable in the face of her husband's vast wisdom.

"The second question," Grace took a deep breath, calming her agitated emotions as she continued.

"Wait, wait, wait." Mia picked up her fork, her mouth still stuffed with half a snail meat.

"Why do you still have so many questions?"

Grace ignored her and continued reading:

"Regarding the capacity of spell slots, is the rate of mana inflow uniform?"

Is it possible for the speed to vary, sometimes fast and sometimes slow?

Joseph took another sip of tea.

It's supposed to be uneven, because it's not magic flowing into the spell slot at all; it's like you're struggling against a non-existent cube.

How can something that doesn't exist be evenly distributed?

But he couldn't say that.

"normal."

Grace immediately sat up a little straighter.

"Magic is not distributed in a completely uniform concentration within the human body."

As Joseph spoke, he inwardly thanked all the random science magazines and inspirational articles he had read in his past life; if you just replaced the vocabulary, they sounded flawless.

"It fluctuates constantly within the human body, depending on your breathing, emotional state, fatigue level, and even the gravitational pull of the tides."

"Therefore, when constructing spell slots, you cannot use only one rigid rhythm to guide magic."

You need to find patterns in the fluctuations and utilize them, not suppress them.

He thought for a moment and decided to elevate the theme further:

"It's like rowing a boat in a storm. If you try to hold on against the raging waves, the boat will break sooner or later. Only by going with the rhythm of the waves can you move forward with the help of them."

"Magic is the same." Grace's eyes lit up.

It turned out to be the case.

No wonder the more she tried to capture that warmth in the afternoon, the more easily that feeling disappeared.

Because she always felt that she had no magic power, but this was actually an attempt to forcibly suppress the fluctuations of magic power, rather than following the fluctuations to complete the flow.

She lowered her head and quickly took notes.

Mia frowned thoughtfully to the side.

"So you can't force it when meditating? You have to wait for that... that magic to come on its own?"

"That's one way to understand it," Joseph said.

Mia suddenly realized.

"Was my arm tilting this afternoon because I was in too much of a rush?"

"Possibly."

"Very good!"

Mia slammed her hand on the table in excitement, causing a few drops of the thick soup next to her to splash out.

"Then I won't force it in tomorrow! I'll take it slowly, dripping it in little by little!"

Grace couldn't help but glance at her.

"Miss Taylor, I would be very surprised if you could last more than five minutes."

"I can!"

Mia immediately retorted, "I'm very patient when I'm forging iron!"

"Then you should think of creating spell slots as forging iron," Joseph casually remarked.

Mia was taken aback, and Grace also stopped writing.

Joseph himself was taken aback after he finished speaking.

Putting everything else aside, this statement actually seems quite philosophical?

To maintain his air of superiority, he went along with it, giving the two of them a deep, penetrating gaze:

"Everyone perceives the world differently, and understands magic in a different way."

Grace excels in theory and structure, and can approach the problem from the perspectives of geometry, stability, and changes in flow rate.

Mia, you're familiar with forging, so try to understand it through the lens of forging.

He looked at Mia.

"The framework is the mold, and the magic is the molten iron. If the mold is unstable, the molten iron will leak; if the molten iron flows too fast, the mold will crack."

All you have to do is give magic an acceptable shape.

Mia stared blankly at Joseph.

After a while, her eyes gradually brightened.

"Sir..." she whispered, "I think I understand!"

This time she truly understood.

Her former teachers always said she had poor self-control, that her magic was too overwhelming, and that she wasn't suited for precise spellcasting.

But the man did not allow her to meditate, perceive, or control like those top students.

The master told her to treat magic as molten iron and spell slots as molds.

Isn't this what she knows best?

The crooked cube that had annoyed her so much that afternoon suddenly felt incredibly dear to Mia at this moment.

Joseph felt a little guilty looking at Mia's touched expression.

He just said it offhand, but it seems to have worked quite well.

Let's assume he did it on purpose.

Grace lowered her head and added another line to her notebook:

"Personalized instruction: Explaining new magical structures based on students' existing experience."

After she finished writing that sentence, she paused for a moment and then drew a small asterisk next to it.

The gentleman is indeed not just a scholar who talks about profound theories.

He could even, in a split second, offer the most suitable way of understanding for Mia, taking into account her background and experience.

This is no longer just an ordinary teaching technique; it's masterful insight!