Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

The classrooms in the Clock Tower, especially the one Kenneth had used, must have been equipped with high-level spiritual ground. The spiritual veins here were carefully regulated, so if it were simply used for basic experiments, it would be fine. But if someone dared to perform a spirit-summoning ritual here...

Bro is suspected to be planning to play the Scourge here.

Almost instantly, the magical power within Xing Qingyu's body surged out, flowing down his arm and rushing towards the chalk at his fingertips. The seemingly ordinary white chalk was instantly infused with magical power, its internal structure completely reshaped. The air vibrated violently, and in an instant, the airflow around the chalk suddenly contracted, then exploded!

boom--!

The air was instantly ripped apart, and an explosive sound resonated throughout the classroom, vibrating the windowpanes. The chalk in Xing Qingqu's hand was like a bullet charged with ultra-high pressure, nearly breaking the sound barrier and carrying a distorted air current with it, shooting straight at Flat's forehead at an astonishing speed.

The students present didn't even have time to react before they felt a surge of intense air pressure sweep through the entire classroom, as if an invisible shockwave had erupted from the podium, spreading fiercely in all directions. The sudden surge of air stirred the dust in the air, sending tiny particles swirling and hurling into the air, only to be snatched back into its path by the whirlwind. The chalk dust on the blackboard rose in sheets, like a dust cloud whipped up by a strong wind.

The chandelier on the ceiling swayed slightly, and the hanging crystal components made a crisp sound, but no student cried out in surprise.

On the contrary, the students looked unfazed, deftly holding down the books and papers on their desks to prevent them from flying off. One student even calmly picked up a white porcelain teacup and gently sipped the warm black tea.

...Wait a minute, why are there teapots and teacups on her desk?

Xing Qingwu looked at the girl calmly sipping her tea in the strong wind and suddenly felt a little tired. Although he was not a teacher who insisted on classroom discipline, weren't these little brats a little too presumptuous?

As the chalk flew, it didn't simply slice through the air; instead, friction with the air caused it to release tiny particles of chalk dust along its path. These imperceptible particles were evenly distributed by the violent airflow, forming a loop in the air that had been calculated by Xing Qingfeng.

Magical energy flowed along these tiny dust particles, weaving them into a complex array in the air. In a brief moment, the originally chaotically scattered dust particles attracted and connected to each other, eventually forming a closed magic circuit. As the magic energy flowed, this circuit began to resonate, releasing a targeted interference wave.

——The spiritual field constructed by Flat was completely disintegrated.

The main stem of the chalk was still moving at high speed, and was about to hit Flatt's forehead - however, at the last moment, it suddenly exploded!

"Snapped!"

As if blocked by some invisible force, the chalk instantly disintegrated just inches in front of Flat's eyes, turning into a ball of spreading powder, which exploded in the air like small white smoke and sprinkled on his hair and forehead.

Flatt stared at the suddenly crumbling chalk before him. After a brief moment of stunned silence, his face lit up with excitement. He waved his hand violently, sending air currents through the dust, his eyes gleaming.

"Oh oh oh oh--! That move just now was so powerful!" He was so excited that he almost jumped up. He didn't even care about the slightly red spot on his forehead where the chalk was rubbed. Instead, he excitedly gestured with his fingers what had just happened.

"Order Xing, how did you do that? This circuit is incredibly well calculated! Not only does it block the spirit field, but even the rate of magic power dissipation has been calculated. Oh my god, how on earth did you manage to complete this structure with just chalk?!"

As he spoke, he stretched out his hands and gestured in the air, trying to reproduce the shape of the chalk track, his face full of excitement and curiosity.

Xing Qingyu stared at Flatt, watching him wave his arms excitedly, as if recreating the path he had just drawn with chalk. Seeing that he hadn't learned his lesson at all, the vein in Xing Qingyu's forehead twitched uncontrollably.

Should he throw another piece of chalk?

He took a deep breath, but ultimately decided not to do so. Instead, he roared, shaking the entire classroom.

"Flat!!"

The chalk box shook, and the dust on the blackboard was carried away by the sound waves and gently fell.

"Do you want to go there by yourself, or do you want me to take you there?" Xing Qingfu lowered his voice, with a hint of danger in his tone.

"Got it!" Flatt saluted quickly, his smile as bright as ever, as if he hadn't heard the threat in Xing Qing's words. He jumped up from his seat and walked towards the back of the classroom.

The students' reaction? Not surprising.

Some people lowered their heads to continue copying notes, some calmly took a sip of tea, and some straightened the small desktop doll that had been blown crooked by the air flow, their expressions calm.

…Wait, why is there a little doll on the desk during class?

Warm golden light reflected the grain of the wooden desks, and the air still lingered with the scent of chalk dust. The atmosphere in the classroom seemed no different from usual, except that Flatt had once again been called in for "reflection."

When he reached the back of the classroom, he didn't stop. Instead, he ascended lightly through the air, as if he were stepping onto an invisible staircase. His steps were as steady as if he were walking on flat ground. He climbed step by step, straight to the clock hanging on the back wall.

He casually took down the clock from the wall, lowered his head and fumbled inside his clothes, and then -

　崎II彡lingsi韭妻③ seemed to take out a safety buckle from the back of her collar.

...This kid actually wore a full-body safety harness under his clothes.

Finally, one of the students turned around and glanced at Flatt, but that was all. Someone even muttered quietly, "It's the clock again today..."

The next second, Flatt kicked his legs and easily jumped up, hanging himself firmly on the spot where the clock had been. He held the clock and clipped the safety buckle into the fixed hook on the wall. After shaking it and confirming that it was stable, he nodded with satisfaction.

Xing Qingyu took a deep breath and tried his best to suppress the urge to kick him down. In the end, he just glared at him fiercely.

After confirming that Flatt had successfully entered the 'reflection mode', Xing Qingqiu took out a new piece of chalk from the chalk box and continued writing on the blackboard.

The chalk rubbed against the blackboard, making a slight rustling sound, and the handwriting was neat and clear.

"...This is the condition for the emergence of a so-called spirit," Xing Qingfeng wrote down the key concepts stroke by stroke, his voice calm and steady. "First, we need to create an environment that is sufficient for the spirit to exist stably. That is, we need to use magic power to build a specific field—"

He paused and glanced at the students in the audience.

"——As for the specific construction method, I will teach you the basics of field theory after your math and physics levels improve."

"Then you will be able to master this method easily."

He turned, wrote the final points on the blackboard, and then glanced casually at the back wall of the classroom.

Flatt still hung there steadily, even shaking the clock he was holding as if nothing had happened. Xing Qingqi paused, his eyes subtly shifting from Flatt to look at the last words on the blackboard.

"In the next class, I will show you the next element that makes up the spirit body."

Just as he finished speaking, the bell rang at the perfect time. The melodious sound echoed in the air from afar, announcing the official end of the class.

Xing Qingfan shook his sleeves, put away his chalk, closed his handouts, and began to organize his lesson plan. Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something and added casually:

"—By the way, everyone, remember to prepare a set of sportswear." He raised his head, looked at the calm students below, and continued in a flat tone, "Don't forget, we will start self-defense practice tomorrow."

He paused, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly in a meaningful arc, his eyes swept across the students in the audience, and finally stopped at Flatt hanging on the wall.

"I hope everyone will change into clothes that are convenient for exercise—"

"——Otherwise, don't cry when the time comes."

After he finished speaking, he picked up his teaching material box and walked out of the classroom without looking back.

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On an autumn afternoon in the clock tower, the setting sun filtered through the gaps in the blinds into the office, carving thin strips of light along the spines of the books. The room was filled with the faint scent of alcohol. Books were piled in a corner of the wooden desk, and experimental notes were scattered haphazardly on the table, appearing messy yet exuding a unique sense of order.

Weber sat on the sofa, one hand resting on his forehead, the other stroking his wrist. Dad tossed a few files onto the coffee table, his tone filled with resignation: "These are the teachers for the self-defense class, I guess."

He gestured with his chin to the files on the table, his voice slightly tired: "Would you like to pick one?"

Xing Qingfeng sat at his desk, flipping through a stack of students' reports. He casually replied, "No need." He lowered his head, made a note on a document, and continued casually, "I plan to teach them myself."

"what?!"

Weber's expression instantly cracked, and he suddenly straightened up, staring at him with wide eyes, as if he had heard something incredible.

"You were the one who asked me to find a suitable teacher!" he said angrily, then leaned back in his chair with a look of "What the hell is this guy thinking?"

"Sorry, sorry," Xing Qingfeng rarely showed a guilty expression. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed dryly. "Oh, uh... When I go back to Japan, I'll buy you some merchandise to make it up to you."

Weber snorted coldly and crossed his arms, "Don't try to fool us with the surroundings."

"It's real compensation," Xing Qingqiu said seriously. He then tapped his fingers on the table a few times and said thoughtfully, "Actually, I've thought about it for a long time. What kind of course should self-defense be?"

Weber frowned and motioned for him to continue.

"I suddenly realized that 'self-defense class', as the name suggests, is a course that allows children to learn how to ensure their own safety in various conditions, right?"

"And these children," he paused, a meaningful smile curling up at the corner of his mouth, "are all traditional Clock Tower magicians."

Weber's brows twitched violently, and then he revealed an expression of sudden realization yet also a hint of sympathy: "...You're not planning to..." He paused, shook his head, and continued, "I feel like they're a bit too pitiful."

"How can I deal with this kind of traditional magician?" Xing Qingqi spread his hands and sighed softly, "Actually, the most ideal teacher should be Kiritsugu—"

"—But you also know that Kiritsugu is running around the world every day, busy dealing with matters related to the Holy Grail War." He shrugged, his tone not without regret, "So he had to settle for the next best thing and let me come."

He paused, then gave a malicious smile.

"After all, I'm pretty good at dealing with magicians like that."

Weber held his forehead and took a deep breath: "...It feels even more terrifying."

"This is a true self-defense lesson," Xing Qingfeng continued. "I'm just, very, very, very simply thinking about the children."

His fingers tapped lightly on the table, the sound crisp and rhythmic. "I absolutely don't intend to take this opportunity to beat up these little bastards just because I can't stand them."

"Haven't you already said what's on your mind?" Weber complained.

"Ah, it's okay." Xing Qingqi said in a relaxed tone, flipping through a page of documents. "Besides, if they can train under me, they can indeed handle most scenarios on their own."

Weber looked at him with a complicated expression and remained silent for a few seconds: "...How exactly are you going to teach me?"

Xing Qingfu did not answer immediately, but reached out and closed a metal box next to the desk.

"Rather, I'll not only teach them how to defend themselves," he said in a gentle, yet chilling voice, "but also teach them how to effectively identify and eliminate their enemies."

Waver's gaze fell on the metal box. In the moment just now, he had seen it clearly—

The interior of the metal box was wrapped in thick foam padding to protect the contents from jarring. Two or three black firearms were neatly arranged inside, the cold, hard metal reflecting a faint luster under the office light.

That's not for show.

Whether it's a modified semi-automatic pistol or a short-barreled rifle designed for concealed shooting, even matching silencers and spare magazines are all available. Those items are definitely not some kind of hobby collectibles, but rather carefully selected weapons that are ready to be used in actual combat at any time.

Weber's Adam's apple rolled slightly, and he unconsciously turned his eyes away from the metal box.

To most magi in the Clock Tower, such things couldn't even be called "weapons," but rather heresy. In their eyes, the use of guns in combat was simply ridiculous. Even more despicable than the destruction of Magic Seals and the abolition of Magic Circuits, was the abandonment of Magic for modern weaponry.

However, Xing Qingwu obviously doesn't care about these.

Not only does he know how to use it, he even seems ready to teach his students how to use it.

"...You're planning on teaching them self-defense with guns?" Waver sighed. "You're not planning on mass-producing magician killers, are you?"

"How can it be so exaggerated?" Xing Qingwu chuckled and tapped his fingers lightly on the closed metal box. "I'm just teaching them to better protect themselves."

————————————————————

The style of the next few chapters is probably Assassination Classroom (disordered

Xing Qingfeng certainly doesn't know how to teach Magician Killer, but he can teach Chuiha Dajiang——

——After all, isn’t this what self-defense classes are all about? Hehehe I must survive (confidence)

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

Volume 62: Xing Qingjiu's Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . Old Xing in the Backyard

El-Melloi.Classroom.Backyard

Although the playground in front of the classroom was spacious enough, it was still too cramped for the "self-defense class" Xing Qingqiu was planning to conduct. So, he spent a few days cleaning up the wasteland behind the classroom... No, it couldn't be called wasteland.

This area was originally a garden and small woods in the backyard of the classroom, planted with many evergreen plants and some winding paths. If no one took care of it, it would quickly be swallowed up by weeds and fallen leaves.

Xing Qingyu stood in the middle of the open space, slowly scanning the area with a slight smile on his face.

He had already tidied the place up. Dead branches and leaves had been thoroughly cleared, and the once soft soil, strengthened by magic, had become solid, capable of withstanding intense combat training without collapsing. Most of the overcrowded trees had been cut down, leaving only a few well-spaced, sturdy trees that served as natural cover and obstacles. The suitable terrain allowed the students to fully utilize the environment during training.

He stretched himself, already looking forward to the upcoming teaching session.

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

Xing Qingyu stood in front of the students, having changed into a smart sportswear.

The black short-sleeved shirt pressed against his shoulders, creating clean, sharp lines. The arms exposed at the cuffs were strong and muscular, proving he wasn't just a theoretical magician. He wore a pair of slim-fitting, but not tight, sports trousers. The fabric was light and thin, allowing for easy movement. He stood straight, his posture appearing extremely relaxed. The only thing that couldn't be ignored was—

——There was a bulge around his waist, with something pinned on it, which was completely covered by the hem of his sportswear.

Whether they were students who were used to observing details or ordinary students who just took a quick glance, almost everyone's eyes unconsciously fell on the bulge on his waist, but no one dared to ask directly.

In front of Xing Qingjiu, a group of students formed a semicircle and stood lazily.

Some of them were whispering to each other, some were folding their arms and looking around, and still others, having stayed up late reading, were yawning and gazing vacantly at the distant shade of trees. Although Xing Qingjiu's class was already quite important to his students, many of them remained relaxed when they heard it was a "self-defense class."

"...I thought it would be another teacher teaching the self-defense class."

In the semicircular group, a student whispered quietly to the person next to him, with a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Yeah, me too." The student next to him murmured in agreement, his eyes fixed on Xing Qingqi's sportswear. "But he's wearing sportswear, so he's probably just teaching some basic sports, right?"

"Ha, that's boring." The student who spoke first sighed in disappointment, "Luckily I had the foresight to wear a skirt..."

"Didn't the teacher tell us to wear sportswear?"

"We can't just start right in the first period." The student curled his lips, his tone very firm. "Don't we always start with a lesson on concepts and the syllabus?"

"...That's true." The student next to him nodded and began to wait contentedly for Xing Qingjiu to begin his lengthy theoretical explanation. He had even planned his itinerary after class in his mind.

Suddenly, the students relaxed their stances, many idly twirling their hair with their fingers or fiddling with their sleeves. The air was filled with the dry, autumnal scent, and fallen leaves occasionally swirled on the ground in the breeze. The entire venue was filled with a leisurely and carefree atmosphere.

Xing Qingqiu glanced at the students in front of him, observing their attire. Sure enough, quite a few were still wearing their usual school clothes: skirts, gowns, and even lace shirts. Clearly, they hadn't taken his request to wear sportswear seriously.

This wasn't surprising. The Clock Tower's magicians were mostly accustomed to solving problems with magic, and their understanding of "self-defense" often limited itself to using magic for self-protection, rather than true physical training. Furthermore, they were accustomed to prioritizing theory, believing this first class was likely just a lecture, so they naturally didn't pay much attention to whether their clothing was comfortable for movement.