Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

"From countless possible paths, we choose the one that's closest to reality," Xing Qingfeng continued, explaining, "After all, any choice will deviate from the original trajectory to some extent, but these deviations are small enough not to affect the overall result."

Lanis sat in a chair by the window, her head slightly tilted, her eyes narrowed into slits. She raised a hand and gently pushed aside the hair that fell on her forehead, revealing her bright and deep eyes. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly, with a hint of curiosity.

"It's like doing a mathematical calculation, isn't it?" she asked softly. "Only... is this calculation about the future?"

"In deduction, the future and the past are equivalent." Zibia didn't look up. His eyes remained on the very old pocket watch in his hand, and his fingertips gently turned the dial. "The past is not a completely fixed outcome, and the future is not necessarily completely free and infinite—"

“—at least not yet.”

Weber's fingers tapped unconsciously on the table, making a low, clacking sound. He seemed to be trying to piece together these complex concepts, but the fragments in his mind just couldn't fit together perfectly.

"I see..." He paused, as if still organizing his thoughts. "I think I understand." Finally, he raised his head, frowning slightly. "Although I still don't quite understand these words, your words to me here must have meaning—"

"—No, I'm sure I'll find these words quite meaningful later on."

"...As expected of Mr. Velvet, you've become El-Melloi II's character in most scenarios." Zibia's eyes flickered slightly, and a smile of approval appeared at the corner of his mouth. "In regular scenarios, even among the magicians of the Clock Tower, you are usually one of the fastest to grasp this."

Waver didn't respond immediately. He lowered his head and sighed softly, a hint of fatigue in his eyes. "I'm truly honored by the compliment." His tone was tinged with self-mockery, as if to distance himself further from the praise. "I was able to accept it so quickly only because I'm not strong enough. I understand that the world I see is just a small piece of sky at the wellhead."

"This is precisely the key factor in making the world a better place." Zibia paid no attention to Waver's modesty. "Your influence far exceeds your imagination. The shadow you cast on the world will gradually surpass the distance you travel in life." He paused, then continued, "Because of this, your teacher's unnecessary death can be said to have meaning."

The room fell into a brief silence again, and the air seemed to freeze. Waver's expression instantly became serious, and a trace of astonishment and confusion flashed in his eyes.

"My teacher... died in vain?" He repeated this sentence in a low voice, and hurriedly asked, "What happened to Mr. Kenneth?"

Xing Qingjiu's brow furrowed, as if considering the weight of these words. Gently fiddling with his wine glass, his mind raced back to his conversation with Bao Shi Weng in South America.

"Did that Bao Shi Weng also say something like this?" He pondered secretly. His memory was pretty good, and he still remembered what Bao Shi Weng had said during the phone call he had received before.

"——But your world line is different. This is the first time I've seen you live this long."

This is what Bao Shi Weng said to Kenneth in person when they were in South America by phone.

"Oh? Lord El-Melloi isn't dead yet?" Zibia gently swung the pocket watch in his hand, his eyes unchanged. "How strange! No matter which script it is, he should have died around 1994—"

"—After all, your influence is truly immense. If he hadn't died, you wouldn't have been able to succeed Lord El-Melloi," Zibia said calmly. "If you hadn't become Lord El-Melloi, then the subsequent events wouldn't have been possible."

"You mean..." Weber said in disbelief, his voice trembling slightly. As he stood up too violently, the chair fell backward with a loud noise. "I will... kill my teacher... kill Mr. Kenneth...?"

"It's just that most scripts are like that," Zibia continued, seemingly oblivious to Waver's reaction. "So, in this scenario, you didn't become Lord El-Melloi because Kayneth is still alive... This is also the influence of the First Move, right?"

He stared at the fallen chair, stunned for a moment before realizing he had lost his composure. He lowered his head, gripping the back of the chair tightly with both hands, forcing himself to calm down and reorganize his thoughts. After a long moment, he finally calmed down and looked at Zibia again.

"…I'm sorry. I was rude."

"No, I overstepped my bounds. I'll give you a warning instead of apology," Zibia said. "You'll be forced to make several decisions. While it's impossible to say which option is best, you'd better prepare the actors on stage. After all, the script you choose during this journey will determine how you engage with the Holy Grail War."

However, before Waver could react, a figure pushed open the outer door of the hut and slowly emerged from the corridor.

"—Why are you here?"

Weber was stunned for a moment, then looked up and instantly recognized the man: "Belsac..." he whispered.

Belsac's gaze swept across everyone in the room, finally settling on Zibia. Zibia remained calm, slowly turning the dial of his pocket watch.

"A few minutes early... No, should I say a few minutes late?" Zibia raised the corner of his mouth lightly, "But it's just right.

------------

Belsac and Tsibia's conversation was brief and concise, exchanging crucial information within a few minutes. Xing Qingqiu sat nearby, his gaze scanning the two of them indifferently. The room fell silent for a moment, its presence only punctuated by the ticking of the clock and the subtle rustle of the wind blowing through the window lattices.

He stood up, ready to leave. Xing Qingqi's gaze drifted, catching Belsac's fleeting glance. However, Belsac didn't stop, but turned to look at Tsibia. Tsibia's gaze shifted from his pocket watch, and he shook his head gently, without making any further movement.

Finally, Belsac turned around silently and walked out of the room with Weber and Lanis, not paying attention to Xing Qingfan's presence.

Xing Qingyu sat quietly, watching their backs disappear at the door. The atmosphere in the room instantly became more empty and quiet.

Suddenly, Xing Qingjiu broke the silence and asked, "Is what you just said something like what would happen in a typical scenario?" He raised his hand and gently placed the empty wine glass on the table. The glass, completely devoid of liquid, reflected a faint halo of light.

He didn't wait for Zibia's response, but quietly focused his attention on the piece of toast on the table. It was the last piece of toast. He gently tore off a small piece of toast, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

——This guy ate up all the wine and toast without saying a word while Tsibia and Weber were talking.

"According to the timeline, it's actually a year early," Zibia said slowly. His fingers gently touched the surface of his pocket watch. The hands on the dial danced slightly, reflecting a few faint golden rays. "Although the exact time of the event may vary, at such a critical juncture, a full year's error is enough to prove that the event that was once nailed down has started moving again. Thank you."

"If you don't mind, could you allow me to observe these past ten years?" Zibia suddenly spoke, his tone still relaxed. "I can assure you that I won't take any actions outside of the original script due to changes in the observation results—"

"—After all, resources are limited, so we still need to hand these hard-earned useful things over to more important people."

"Although I don't understand what you're saying for now...please do as you please." Xing Qingyu couldn't help but sigh, looking somewhat helpless. "Really, when will this situation end? Can't someone come and explain everything clearly?"

Cibia lowered his head slightly, as if thinking about Xing Qingjiu's words.

"Actually, you don't need to understand this at all. These things won't affect your actions," Zibia said suddenly. "After all, the stage is limited to Earth. Compared to these things, it's so small, so tiny. Who knows how long it will take for the drama performed on this tiny stage to affect the entire universe."

Xing Qingjiu didn't respond, only the muffled clink of glasses echoed. He lifted a bottle of whiskey from the imaginary space and gently uncorked it. The air immediately filled with a strong, peaty aroma, like smoke, instantly filling the room. This aroma, mixed with the pungent aroma of alcohol, pierced the tranquility of the space.

"So I'm quite indifferent." Xing Qingjiu casually poured the wine into the wine glass and shook it gently. The wine formed a vortex-like wave in the glass. "Write it down after you listen to it. I'll see if I can organize it and use it as a file later. I'll deal with it later when someone can -"

"——As for me?" Xing Qingfeng's voice was low and calm, with a hint of self-mockery, "Just do what you have to do. It's none of my business."

"Hmm... You chose 1994, the time of the Fourth Holy Grail War..." Zibia muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the sky. The air around him seemed to be pulled by some invisible force. Slight lines floated around him, like twisted air currents, and began to tremble and twist into irregular shapes.

Xing Qingfu looked at the lines lingering around Zibia with great interest. It seemed that the scope of these lines was not limited to this village. Zibia claimed to be the dean of the Atlas Academy and could share intelligence with the Atlas Academy at any location on the earth. Perhaps this was done by relying on this kind of etiquette.

"I see. No wonder Lord El-Melloi survived. That's not surprising." Zibia narrowed his eyes slightly. A faint buzzing sound could be heard in the air, as if responding to his cognition.

"The spread of the Holy Grail War has brought more attention to the Necromancer Department than before. Is Kayneth taking this opportunity to infiltrate the department and consolidate its resources..." Zibia continued to mutter to himself, his voice low and slow. His fingers unconsciously slid lightly across his pocket watch, and the old dial made a faint clicking sound as he moved. "Oh, Kayneth's survival could have such an impact. I see. The El-Melloi School, originally inherited by Mr. Velvet, has still not been established, and the Modern Magic Department has still not welcomed its Lord—"

"--However, the normal script still has inertia, and some events seem to still happen."

"For example?" Xing Qingqi smacked his lips, a hint of frivolity on his face. He casually pulled a small bag of fried peanuts from the imaginary space and poured them onto the plate that had been holding the toast. The aroma of peanuts filled the air, blending with the taste of the wine. Xing Qingqi picked up a few and casually put them in his mouth. The sound of chewing was particularly clear in the quiet room.

"For example, you still set up a classroom, a classroom named after El-Melloi." Tsibia said.

"I thought it was called Xing Qingyu's Classroom," Xing Qingyu complained, "Why is it still called El-Melloi Classroom?"

"I've only gathered information about your classroom," Zibia said seriously. "It seems everyone in the Clock Tower calls your classroom El-Melloi Classroom."

"So," Xing Qingqi changed his tone and suddenly asked a question, following the other party's topic, "What do you think of me pretending to be an alchemist from the Atlas Academy?"

"It's not really an exaggeration. After all, you're Isaac's student this time," Zibia said slowly. "How should I put it... if he hadn't been uninterested, my position as dean might have been his—"

"—After all, in terms of computing power and alchemical attainments, no one in the entire Atlas Academy could possibly surpass him," Zibia said. "He has truly reached the pinnacle of alchemy. Calling him humanity's last alchemist is no exaggeration."

"Oh? I only heard that the teacher went to Atlas Academy, but left because of a disagreement." Xing Qingyu paused and smiled softly. "Then he didn't say much when he said this, just a passing mention."

"I'm not sure why," Zibia continued. "I just know that when he left, he said that the Atlas Academy wasn't as interesting as the Royal Academy."

"Ha, that sounds like something he would say." Xing Qingyu sighed, his eyes curved and he couldn't help laughing.

"Anyway," Cibia's tone remained steady. His eyes didn't linger on Xing Qingqi, but he gently glanced out the window, bringing the topic back to where it left off. "The events originally scheduled for the El-Melloi classroom will inevitably end up in your classroom due to inertia."

Xing Qingwu didn't say much, but when he realized that the peanuts in his hand had been eaten, he put down the empty plate and stretched.

"You're talking like I'm stealing Weber's role."

"Rather, you've shouldered the life and fate that should have belonged to Mr. Velvet," Zibia said, his gaze still drifting out the window. "It's unavoidable."

--------------

As roughly summarized here, because of the impact of Kayneth's survival, El-Melloi will not experience the crisis of disintegration, Lanis will not have to experience so much displacement, and Weber's pressure to reach out is actually much less.

Correspondingly, the personalities of these two people have also softened. Compared with El-Melloi II in the original work, Weber is actually more like little Weber in character. He has just matured a lot in another direction. For example, if you compare it with the original work here, you will find that Weber's reactions in many places are much greater. El-Melloi II in the original work is more "expressive", and the thorns on Lanis's body have also softened a lot.

The fact that the protagonist established a classroom and set the enrollment target as modern magic and aliens has, to a certain extent, replaced Waver's establishment of the El-Melloi Classroom, so the protagonist complained that it was stealing the show.

But Weber certainly doesn't like the original development, so Tsibia would say that the protagonist bears Weber's fate and life for him.

The above is a new story for a new person. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

Volume 18: Xing Qingjiu’s Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . Do you also want to visualize the Turing halt?

"Have you ever played snooker?" Tsbia suddenly asked.

Xing Qingwu was slightly startled, then looked up at him, not quite understanding why he suddenly brought this up: "Billiards? I've never played it, but I've seen others play it."

"The original flow of the normal script is the order in which the red and colored balls in snooker are pocketed," Tsibia explained. "The difference between the rules of snooker and regular billiards is that the order of shots is one red ball, then one colored ball, until all the red balls are pocketed. Then the colored balls are pocketed in ascending order of value until all the red balls are off the table."

Inside the room, the previously quiet space suddenly shifted. The air seemed to vibrate quietly, and previously imperceptible lines began to emerge faintly in the air. Gradually, these lines joined together, beginning to outline the precise outline of a pool table.

From the tabletop, to its edges, and finally to the supporting legs, everything emerged in the air, gradually becoming clearer. The wooden tabletop radiated a warm glow under the light, the delicate texture of the tablecloth looming in the air, and on the pool table, the red and colored balls gradually appeared. The red balls were neatly arranged in a row according to the rules, their bright red glowing faintly under the dim light of the lamp spirit. The colored balls lay quietly in their designated positions according to order.

All that's missing is the white ball and the club.

"Therefore, the order of hitting the balls is often fixed. Although the trajectory of the balls is different in each round and the time of landing in the pockets may vary slightly, they will eventually be pocketed in the order they were hit."

As Zibia continued speaking, the pool table began to shift. The red ball vibrated slightly in the air, gently rolling as it slowly approached a pocket. The sound of the red ball colliding with the other balls was crisp and rhythmic, with almost no extraneous noise. Eventually, every ball on the table was set in motion, and the collisions continued incessantly.

No matter how complicated the trajectory is, the order in which the balls fall into the pockets still conforms to the rules of snooker.

"Let's imagine this scenario. In a typical scenario, there's no batsman and no white ball. Instead, the red and colored balls on the table move in a certain order, collide with each other, and eventually get pocketed," said Tsibia. "And the first mover, you, appears, placing a white ball on the field. As the batsman, you keep hitting the balls on the table—"

Zibia stretched out his hand and tapped lightly, and suddenly a white ball appeared out of thin air in the center of the table. It was smooth and flawless, with a faint luster on the surface, as if it had just been wiped, and it rested quietly on the table.

Then, the lines in the air intertwined once more, and a cue emerged from the air. Unlike a pool table, it lacked any physical texture, yet its shape was perfectly precise. The tip of the cue curved slightly, and the wooden surface shimmered with a faint sheen. Despite knowing it was a projection, it felt incredibly real.

"—You don't have to follow the rules of snooker, you don't have to stick to the prescribed order of pocketing. But you can only use the white ball to hit the other balls, changing their trajectory." Before he finished speaking, the cue swung violently, and the white ball struck with precision, rolling rapidly before colliding delicately with a red ball. As the impact echoed through the room, the red ball slid gently across the table, making a crisp clash as the colored ball was potted early.

"Simply put, change must follow basic rules," Xing Qingfeng sighed and said, "As an individual, the role I can play is limited—"

"——Why do I feel like you've made a simple thing more complicated? Just now, that was the case as well."

"Haha, is that so?" Zibia said with a smile, "Anyway, it's good that you understand this. However, when you interfere with other people's lives, you will inevitably come into contact with them, either directly or indirectly."

On the pool table, the white ball that had just knocked away a red ball was suddenly hit by the colored ball that was about to hit the red ball, changing its trajectory.

"The original script has inertia, so you will more or less bear some of the historical reverberations for them," Zibia continued, "but it's only a small amount of reverberation and inertia. The affected script will ultimately not be completely consistent with the original ordinary script."

"Who would understand what you're saying?" Xing Qingwu said, "So, could you please explain what you said before?"

Zibia's gaze lingered on Xing Qingjiu for a moment, and suddenly, his voice deepened. "You've communicated with ORT before, and it must have told you that the number of phenomena in this universe is finite, right?"

Xing Qingqiu's eyes narrowed slightly. He did not answer immediately, but listened quietly to what Zibia said next.

"The number of possible events is far greater than the number of actually available events. This is the sadness of this universe." There was a hint of emotion in Zibia's voice. He turned slightly and looked out the window.

"When we predict future events, we get an estimate," Tsibia said, "but if we act based on that estimate, it will inevitably change the original future—"

"--Give me an example," he reached out and picked up a plate on the table, holding it high.

Then, suddenly, he let go, letting the dish fall freely. It spun, tracing a graceful arc with a clear trajectory. But just as it was about to hit the ground, Zibia reached out with his free hand and caught it firmly.

"When I let go, we can all predict the trajectory and outcome of the plate—without interfering, of course," Tsibia said.

"Then, based on my predictions, I can choose to interfere with this process," Zibia continued, "and this will overwrite the original predictions. In other words, I know that I will catch the plate, and the future will turn out like this. This is an easy action for all intelligent creatures, right—"

"—In other words, humans are rare computing devices with motor functions. We humans are intelligent life forms that have evolved to directly address the many inherent problems of collecting and analyzing information through labor."

He paused, then continued, "Let's assume a scenario where there's a person who decides his behavior based on his prediction of the state of the plate. If he predicts the plate will break, he'll reach out to catch it; if he predicts the plate will be caught, he won't reach out and catch it, causing it to break—"

"--Let's assume he has infinite time to predict and decide his next action. Then, can you determine whether the next action is to reach out or not?"

"Turing's Halting Problem," Xing Qingfeng sighed and said, "wouldn't it be better if you just addressed it directly? The choice of behavior depends on the prediction of future states, and this prediction in turn affects future behavior, forming an unsolvable cycle—"

"--Therefore, there is no universal algorithm that can determine whether any program will halt, that is, it is impossible to determine whether it will choose to reach out and catch the plate at a certain moment," Xing Qingqi said. "Turing undecidability means this problem has no solution."

"Haha, the Atlas Academy has been isolated from the outside world for too long. I'm still not familiar with the examples of the modern scientific system." Zibia shook his head slightly, with a hint of helpless laughter in his tone. "Then, in theory, we can have countless possibilities—"

"—But this is actually impossible, because in actual problems, the total number of actions that an intelligent person will perform is fixed, and the total number of possibilities that extend from each action is also fixed."

"It's memory that determines the total number of actions a sentient being will perform. Two sentient beings with different memories, faced with the same situation, will behave differently," Tsibia said. "And memory is a prediction of the past. So, it can be said that predictions about the past determine the total number of actions a sentient being will choose, while predictions about the future determine which actions that sentient being will choose from within the total number of actions constrained by memory."

"So we can say that the possible number of things that can happen to us is traversable," Zibia said, "but the universe is still the way it is now, which proves one thing—"

"--in all our history, there has been no instance of anything that has successfully reversed the course of the universe,"

"Does predicting the past limit a sentient being's possible actions..." Xing Qingfeng muttered. "What if you can change a sentient being's past predictions?"

“This universe’s history is ultimately anthropic,” Tzibia replied. “Changing this parameter will render the output meaningless.”

"Indeed." Xing Qingyu immediately understood what Cibia meant. "Why are they applying the theories of the modern scientific system so quickly this time?"

"Just because I'm not familiar with it doesn't mean I'm completely unaware of it." Zibia replied.

Anthropic Principle: It is the existence of humans that can explain the various characteristics of the universe today, including the fundamental constants of nature. Because if the universe were not like this, there would be no intelligent life like us to discuss it.

If Zibia was not "Zbia Eltnam Atlassia" but "Zbia Eltnam Oberon (Zbia of the Tsukihime world line, one of the twenty-seven ancestors)", then this world would not be what it is today, that is, it would no longer be the Fate world line, but the Tsukihime world line, and then Zibia would not be here to greet them as the dean of Atlas Academy.

Therefore, for Tsukiya, the Tsukihime world line is meaningless to him. He only needs to predict the events of the Fate world line.

"And your appearance has brought brand new phenomena to this universe," Zibia continued to explain, "but these usable phenomena are not completely endless. The more phenomena you interfere with, the more new and usable phenomena we will obtain—"

"——If we predict and intervene before your intervention ends, we will consume these available phenomena, which would be a waste for us."

"So we won't actively interfere with things. Even for me, actively observing what you're doing might cause me to act prematurely. Therefore, unless you proactively contact us, we won't proactively make changes during the intervention period."

"To put it bluntly, you should still do what you're supposed to do before you meet me," Xing Qingqi laughed calmly, leaned back in his chair, and shook his head. "And after you meet me, you should still do what you're supposed to do, right?"