Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

After all, these people are just a group of young men in their early twenties, and everyone has some indignation, desires and ideas about the future in their hearts.

"Magecraft itself isn't important; what matters is the path to its source. The decline of other families' magic is none of my business," another student retorted coldly. "The decline of magic will only lead to the accumulation of mystery within the remaining magical paths. This will only prove the weakness of other magical paths and should actually promote the evolution of magic itself."

As soon as these words fell, the atmosphere in the classroom took another sharp turn for the worse. The arguments between supporters and opponents intensified, their voices growing louder and louder. The air was filled with tension, indignation, and even an indescribable excitement. Everyone was expressing their own opinions, trying to gain more people's support.

"Have you forgotten the lesson of runes?" a student questioned. "How much of the foundation of magic is rooted in runes? How much of a blow would it have to those magicians if they were lost?"

The students were filled with emotion, their words resonating, as if they were fighting for some seemingly unattainable ideal, their positions already divided into two camps. The air in the classroom was almost frozen, and every minute and every second was filled with oppressive pressure.

"Isn't your family's magic still a variant of Stoicism?" a student scoffed. "No one in the orthodox Stoic school would say such a thing. Do you have the right to say such things? Incompetent?"

"A magus who dates back only a century at most is not qualified to say such things." The ridiculed student retorted coldly.

“No matter how young our family is, we are at least an orthodox branch of the Stoic school,” the student said with his chin raised.

The atmosphere was indeed open. Yes, all the students present were young and strong in their twenties, and the questions raised by Xing Qingfeng were to guide them towards the current system and future reforms.

—In other words, right in their strike zone.

Whether it was family, bloodline, or their understanding of the magic system, countless collisions took place within the four walls of this classroom.

The students' passion and arguments often manifest themselves in extreme and direct ways. Young students, on the one hand, yearn to challenge the existing system, while on the other, they attempt to defend their family's honor and heritage. They carry not only academic enthusiasm but also the pressure and responsibility of family and bloodline. These factors intertwine to create an extremely intense atmosphere of discussion.

Even those arguing for reform inevitably drew on their own family lineages, a limitation inherent in this group of magi. Therefore, when the student mentioned the "orthodox division of the Stoic school," he wasn't just speaking for himself; he was speaking for the entire family, for the inherent values ingrained in their bloodline. The intensity of this emotion nearly made the entire classroom tense, but the tension wasn't the same stifling tension from before.

——On the contrary, this tension made everyone present subconsciously speak out what was hidden in their hearts.

This discussion is no longer simply an academic debate about magic and alchemy, but rather their thoughts on the future, and a contest between the family power behind them and personal beliefs.

Every student, whether for or against, subconsciously intertwined their own thoughts about the future and the influence of their family on them in the past into this discussion.

Xing Qingyu stood behind the podium and nodded with satisfaction. He did not rush to interrupt the students' debate, but instead quietly observed the development of the situation. At this time, the tension and intensity of the atmosphere had reached a peak, and the students' emotions were almost exploding, and this kind of explosion was exactly what Xing Qingyu hoped for.

Only in this charged atmosphere can the barriers between students truly be broken down, their minds become more open, and their discussions deepen. Originally, some students were unfamiliar with each other, even distant, but now, they no longer harbored any concerns; confrontation and competition have become part of their communication.

However, at that moment, a leather shoe suddenly flew from one end of the classroom, like a bolt of lightning, striking the head of the student sitting at the other end with incredible precision. The shoe's trajectory cut through the air, leaving a sharp sound as it struck its target.

"Snapped!"

The sound of a shoe colliding with someone's head suddenly resounded, and then the atmosphere in the classroom suddenly fell silent, as if struck by a heavy hammer. All sounds seemed to be frozen by the sudden movement. Every pair of eyes simultaneously fixed on the shoe, and all discussion was instantly interrupted, with all attention focused on the student who had been hit by the shoe.

However, this frozen silence only lasted for a second, and then the tension in the air erupted again.

"boom--"

As the shoe fell to the ground, the atmosphere in the classroom exploded again, and heated arguments burst out again like a flood. This time, the voices were louder, the emotions were more intense, and even mixed with some anger and embarrassment.

Some students were still staring in surprise at their classmates who had been hit, but many more had already stood up, seemingly wanting to resume their conversation. A few even began to argue fiercely. Desks and chairs were being pushed aside, the sound of them colliding with the walls, seemingly straining to deform the entire classroom.

At the same time, all sorts of objects began to fly through the air—schoolbags, documents, even water cups—inexplicably streaking through the air. Some people stood up and angrily hurled their cups at others; others quickly opened their backpacks, trying to pull out more tools to fight back or quickly stop the chaos. A backpack, carelessly thrown forward, hit another student's shoulder with a loud thud.

The atmosphere in the classroom suddenly became chaotic and oppressive. In addition to the fierce verbal exchanges and flying objects, many students' faces were distorted by anger and impatience, and the fire in their eyes seemed to burn the entire lecture hall.

However, amidst this chaotic tide, there is still a trace of calm.

Morfagia remained unharmed, sprawled across the table, as if she were an isolated island in the midst of a storm. Her posture was slouched, her forehead resting slightly on the surface, one hand resting limply on the corner, her fingertips tapping lightly on the table, making a faint "clicking" sound.

Her appearance stood out against the chaos. The sunlight streaming in through the window shone on her, its shimmering reflections creating a stark contrast to her unhurried demeanor. Her appearance resembled a piece of mechanical craftsmanship, cold and emotionless. Even as the discussion around her heated up, threatening to tear the entire classroom apart, she remained like a forgotten pendulum, gently swaying, unfazed.

Morfagia was quite satisfied with the current atmosphere. She knew she was just trying to improve the atmosphere in the classroom. She just lacked personal experience of the world, but that didn't mean she was completely clueless.

——She is a replica of King Arthur's spirit.

However, despite saying this, she really wanted to eat. When she just walked out of the office, Mofajia remembered that there was still half a pot of tea left in the teapot.

It won’t taste good if it gets cold, she thought silently.

Heated arguments and flying objects filled the entire space. The students' actions were like sparks flying in a conflict. The air was filled with tension and oppression, as if every word could ignite the surrounding powder kegs.

But Morfagia just tilted her head, looking indifferent, not caring about the heated debate around her, but thinking about other things:

She remembered that Lanis had mentioned buying her a small cake, and as time passed, the scent of the cake seemed to quietly permeate her mind. She bit her lip slightly, silently guessing that the cake must have been left at home. Although she seemed absent-minded, she still used some of her computing power to capture each student's words.

——This is probably a way of listening to public opinion, she thought.

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

Taking into account that the students of the Clock Tower are still teenagers in their early twenties or even younger, and reading the description of the students of the Clock Tower in the original work, I wrote this chapter.

Actually, I have to confirm one thing first, that is, the description here is slightly exaggerated and condensed by me. After all, it is written for everyone to read, so it can't be too boring. Although in reality, if it really happened, it would probably be similar to this scene (

As for throwing leather shoes and so on, it is a tradition of the old English parliamentarians. I used this as a reference as a sign of the heated atmosphere.

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

Volume 45: Xing Qingjiu's Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . Worthy of being Order Xing

Xing Qingfu sat quietly behind the podium, his eyes not focused on any particular student, but rather on the overall atmosphere of the classroom. He felt like a dispatcher, or perhaps the Speaker of the British Parliament. He sat there, allowing the crowd to argue, never intervening, barking out "order" ("Silence").

He felt that the current situation really needed to be stopped. If they dared to make such a fuss when he was released from school, the whole class would have been sent to run laps on the playground. But looking at it from another perspective, these students were magicians, and they were actually restrained by only throwing objects at each other instead of performing magic tricks.

——In other words, the situation is still under control.

The students' debate had reached a fever pitch, and Xing Qingfeng wasn't about to issue an order immediately. In fact, he felt a certain satisfaction. He could sense the currents of thought brewing in the classroom. Though chaotic, they were vibrant, like the germ of something new.

He reached up, pulled a wine flask from his pocket, and gently wiped the rim. The liquid within the flask shone slightly amber in the light, exuding a mellow aroma. Xing Qing took a sip, a cool sensation quickly sweeping over him, and the slightly spicy taste made him frown slightly.

To be honest, this is the first time that a teacher has encouraged his students to fight with each other during class and then watched and drank.

Across the room, an argument was escalating, as if everyone was channeling all their frustrations into this debate. Books, notebooks, backpacks, and shoes were scattered across the table, as if each student was dueling for their own position. While they were relatively restrained, refraining from resorting to direct magic, their actions were, to a certain extent, a testament to their fighting spirit.

Xing Qingfeng's gaze was fixed on a corner of the classroom, where an old student from the Minerals Department stood out. Normally, he was always smiling, gentle, and seemingly never argued with anyone. Even within the clock tower, he was known as a refined gentleman.

But at this moment, this student, who always gave off a mild impression, was clutching an old antique pocket watch and fiercely smashing the watch head at a student across from him. The watch's chain swung in the air, and the metal head radiated a cold luster. As he swung it, it was like a meteor hammer, devastating everyone around him.

This kid is now constantly expounding on his ideas, but if anyone dares to refute him, he will immediately refute him, and what flies back at the same time is not only words and thoughts, but also the pocket watch meteor hammer wielded in his hand.

The thing was even stained with someone's blood.

On the other side of the classroom, two students were hurling insults at each other, their words filled with vile language. But what surprised Xing Qingqi was that despite their harsh words, they actually supported each other, sometimes cooperating and sometimes shielding each other from attack.

The two of them had a clear family conflict in their previous speeches, but now they are indeed standing together. Perhaps it is because they were beaten by the same group of people -

——The students from the Modern Magic Department seemed particularly active. They were the students with the most martial virtues. Several of them directly removed a piece of table board from the table, shouting things like "You are all bullies who take advantage of your power and look down on others." They waved their hands at the two aristocratic factions of the Mineral Department and the Spirit Summoning Department, attacking or defending.

I feel like this group of people might be able to find common ground with a certain Chaldean shield soldier.

The students around him saw this scene and stepped back, trying to avoid the impact of the desk. Books, pencil cases, and debris were scattered on the ground. The chaotic scene seemed more real than any other classroom. The air was filled with anxiety, as if everyone was trapped in this small space, unable to extricate themselves.

The students' debate gradually turned into a fierce clash of personal emotions. The initial discussion, centered on the magical system and family structure, was replaced by deep-seated resentment and emotion. Everyone seemed to have found an outlet, unleashing their long-simmering discontent without reservation. The emotions that had been hidden beneath the surface finally released completely in this moment, bringing with them all the differences and pain that had been concealed.

Books, notebooks, backpacks, even fallen shoes, were thrown at each other by angry students, as if every object was an extension of their emotions. The air was thick with anxiety, and one could almost hear the students breathing. Their gazes were sharp as knives, piercing any position or opinion they disagreed with. These once gentle and polite young magicians now fully exposed their inner flames.

Xing Qingfeng had no intention of interrupting, but instead felt increasingly satisfied. He sat behind the podium, his gaze sweeping over the students. Just as he had imagined, the students had already vented their doubts about the status quo and their desire for the future through this extreme method.

Xing Qingfeng wasn't in a rush to indoctrinate them, instead taking a more dispassionate approach. "As long as I can leave an impression, I'll win," he mused. He didn't need them to immediately accept his philosophy; he wanted them to be moved and reflective amidst this storm. In Xing Qingfeng's view, sowing seeds of doubt and confusion in young minds was far more effective than direct preaching. Each person's entrenched adherence to the established mage system would eventually be shaken by these conflicts, and ultimately, amidst the chaos, they would seek new answers.

Xing Qingyu was certainly not a traditional teacher, nor did he have sufficient teaching experience. Using conventional teaching methods, he would have long ago imposed strict discipline on the students. However, he was quite adept at reading people's minds, so he chose this seemingly inaction approach, allowing the classroom dispute to continue to ferment.

True change doesn't begin with blind obedience, but rather by breaking down established constraints and questioning the status quo. This is why Xing Qingqiu deliberately allowed students to fight one another, even deliberately exacerbating their conflicts. When it comes to denying something, simply telling someone it's wrong is significantly more effective than guiding them to actively believe it's wrong.

"Perhaps these thoughts will become something that binds them in the future," Xing Qingjiu suddenly sighed, picked up the wine pot and took another sip of the wine inside, savoring the bitterness. He stared at the still chaotic situation before him, his thoughts in a trance, and suddenly a sense of melancholy.

"But it's better than now." His eyes wandered around the classroom, looking through the mess of desks, chairs and books, at the students whose emotions were gradually cooling down. "This is enough."

The chaos in the classroom gradually subsided. Although some students' breathing still rose and fell rapidly, and beads of sweat on their foreheads reflected in the dim light, the anger and arguments that had once filled the room began to fade. Xing Qingqi's gaze passed through the classroom, scanning the students who lowered their heads. Their eyes were either dazed, or flashed with dissatisfaction, or deep in thought.

He turned his head to glance at the wall clock, then turned back to glance at the mess in the classroom not far away. The students' collapsed chairs, scattered books, piles of papers and overturned pencil holders all made the classroom look chaotic.

He stood up slightly, and finally said softly and loudly:

"According to the class rules, I should have shouted 'Quiet' at this moment."

As Xing Qingqiu finished his words, the temperature in the air seemed to freeze. The objects being thrown around as weapons all froze in mid-air. Almost all the students felt a powerful surge of magical energy, their bodies trembling slightly. Some, frustrated and frustrated, could no longer maintain the magic circuits they had previously accumulated. Xing Qingqiu skillfully channeled the energy floating in the air, allowing the anxious, angry magic to slowly dissipate.

"But I always feel like you're exactly like those people in the House of Commons—" Xing Qingfeng spoke with a hint of disdain and humor, his lighthearted banter dispelling the tension in the air. The anger on the students' faces gradually faded, and some of their dissatisfaction was also resolved by his words.

"—So what I should be shouting now is, 'Order'!"

As his last word fell, everyone's mouths were instantly and forcibly sealed shut, leaving almost all the students stunned. An irresistible magical force sealed their mouths, preventing them from speaking. For many, this sudden sense of control left them stunned, even indignant. However, Xing Qingqi's relaxed tone miraculously softened their anger, creating a subtle and complex atmosphere.

He glanced around, his eyes calm, and continued, "get out of class is almost over." He casually glanced at the mess scattered across the floor, "I have a suggestion for you all: sort out your thoughts privately and share them in the next class."

He paused, looked at the students who lowered their heads, and a hint of interest appeared on his face. He continued, "But before that, you have to repair the damage you have caused to the classroom yourselves."

Before they could finish their words, the spell that had been binding their mouths was instantly lifted, and a few whispers, shouts, and rapid breathing filled the air again. The students' expressions varied, some eager to defend themselves, while others lowered their heads in shame.

"I'm so sorry, teacher," a student apologized softly, his face filled with guilt. "I was so emotional at the time that I didn't realize this was your class..."

"I'm not angry." Xing Qingfeng smiled and shook his head. "On the contrary, I'm quite happy to see this scene."

"If you still want to continue the discussion, let's wait until next class," he said, his eyes wandering over the students' faces. He then added softly, "Next class, I hope you can come back to this classroom with your answers prepared."

A temporary silence returned to the classroom. The students' eyes were no longer filled with pure anger, but instead were filled with a complex mixture of emotions. Xing Qingqi was in no hurry to break the silence. This silence meant that the students were beginning to reflect and question some of their past beliefs in this brief period of quiet, which was a good thing.

"Oh, by the way, you're not allowed to use magic to clean up." Xing Qingfeng's tone was playful and provocative. "Wouldn't it be a waste to use magic to easily clean up the 'achievements' you've earned with your own hands?"

The atmosphere in the classroom suddenly changed at this sentence. Some students couldn't help laughing, and the gentle laughter and whispers made the air seem lively again. Xing Qingyu nodded slightly, a smile on his face, and continued, "As for cleaning and repair tools, you can find them yourselves—"

"--All students involved must participate," Xing Qingyu's tone suddenly changed, and he continued, "But there shouldn't be any cowards who can't even take responsibility for their own actions, right?

After saying that, he glanced at the math test paper in his folder and sighed softly.

Although it is important to assess everyone's knowledge level and provide targeted training, this should be given a lower priority than reshaping their cognition.

"Teacher, teacher, wait a minute!" Suddenly, a sudden voice broke his thoughts, and Xing Qingyu turned around to look.

It was a student, his eyes sparkling, his hand raised high, seemingly unable to suppress his inner doubts. The surrounding students paused their whispered discussions and turned their gazes to this student.

"Teacher, if you mean that these are the results of our own hands without magic, so we must clean them up without magic—" the student said with a hint of urgency and curiosity, "so we must clean them up without magic—"

"--So if we get into a fight using magic later, can we use magic to clean up?"

While others were still thinking about the distant future, only this person focused on how to clean up the aftermath!

"…Kurokyou (V) Three-winged Umbrella"

Xing Qingyu suddenly understood how Lord Niu viewed him who kept arguing with him.

"Your name is...Flat Escaldes, right?" Xing Qingfeng's gaze fell on him. He was a new student who had just transferred in this semester. Xing Qingfeng remembered him. He looked a little weak, so he didn't gain much advantage in the melee just now. "Next time, you can try--"

"—But what will happen depends on your level of restraint."

Flatt obviously did not expect Xing Qingjiu to respond in this way. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but then he showed a playful smile, as if he was ignited by some kind of challenge.

"Oh, you're Order Xing after all!" He spoke easily, giving Xing Qingjiu a nickname, his tone undisguised in its intimacy and teasing. "I'll bring my answer to everyone in the next class!"

Xing Qingyu instinctively wanted to retort, especially about the nickname, but he quickly realized that if he followed the other party's rhythm in responding, the delicate atmosphere he had just created in the classroom would be instantly broken.

He didn't say anything else, just waved his hand gently, as if he had put everything in his heart, then turned around silently and prepared to leave. As the bell rang, he slowly stepped out of the podium and left the classroom.

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

After calculating the timeline here, I feel that it is time to introduce Frate. To be honest, Frate's compatibility with Xing can really be said to be excellent -

——And his performance when arguing is quite similar to that of Lao Xing who kept arguing in front of Lord Niu. Congratulations to Lao Xing on starting his stomach-aching teaching career and experiencing the pleasure of facing off against a guy who is similar to himself when he was young.

That’s about it. The above is for a new author and a new book. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

Volume 46: Xing Qingjiu's Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . Magic Power Utilization

Inside the clock tower classroom, sunlight streamed through the windows onto the podium, casting dappled shadows across the floor. A tranquil atmosphere permeated the air. Xing Qingyu stood behind the podium, his eyes focused as he wrote his magic theory on the blackboard.

His voice was steady and clear, echoing throughout the classroom. The students sat quietly, some occasionally taking notes, others silently pondering what Xing Qingjiu was explaining. His lectures weren't overly profound, so the students could all understand. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and the atmosphere in the classroom grew even quieter and more solemn as Xing Qingjiu continued his lecture.

Suddenly, his fingers paused, his brow furrowed slightly, and a faint but unusually clear wave flashed in the air. His perception ability wouldn't have been so high when he was teaching—

——But when he officially started teaching the theory of magic, there was always a troublemaker who couldn't help but practice it on the spot and then couldn't control himself and blew up the classroom.

That's right, this troublemaker is none other than Flat Escaldes, a user of chaos magic, a complete genius and an outlier.

Xing Qingjiu's magic deconstructs magic itself and reassembles it using the characteristics of phenomena, using magic as a driving force to achieve a shortcut to mystery. In other words, he constructs his magic directly in assembly language, building his own programming language to input commands into the world and obtain the desired output.

—But Flatt was different. He hadn't reached the point where Xing Qingfeng constructed his magic using low-level assembly language. But this kid was even more outrageous. He drew essences from various types of magic in the world. Generally speaking, this kind of magic was very fragile and difficult to even perform. However, Flatt "somehow managed to make it work," making him a complete heretic.

Chaos magic's foundation is quite fragile, so Flatt would improvise it, even using only simple formulas to support a single trick. Simply put, he copied sentences from various programming languages, one sentence in Java and the next in Python. Normally, such a program wouldn't work, right?

But Flatt made it work. Although Flatt's personality prevented him from using the exact same magic trick again, Xing Qingfeng felt that as long as the goal could be achieved, magic was just a shortcut to the same end. He actually admired Flatt.

——But except now, Xing Qingjiu doesn’t appreciate Flat at all.

"Flat! I warned you not to directly verify my teaching theories in class!" Xing Qingqi's voice suddenly rang out, with a hint of unconcealed anger. He suddenly turned, his eyes fixed on the boy with messy blond hair in the front row.

Flatt lowered his head, his fingers moving rapidly across his desk, unconsciously drawing upon the vast magical energy in the air. Runes quietly emerged on the surface, a faint shimmer of light spreading like ripples, gradually permeating the surrounding air. Flatt was unrestrainedly blending elements from various magical schools.

The temperature in the air began to rise, and the classroom space became somewhat oppressive. The once quiet atmosphere became tense, as if even the desks and chairs began to tremble slightly. The surrounding students noticed this change, and their eyes began to shift from Xing Qingjiu to Flat. Although they were almost used to this kind of thing, a hint of uneasiness still lingered on their faces.

Xing Qingyu didn't hesitate. The moment he sensed something was amiss, he reacted almost instantly. The atmosphere in the classroom froze, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Xing Qingyu's right hand moved slightly, and the chalk gently shifted under his fingertips, inscribed with a small spell.