Chapter 69: Magic’s Code and a Genius Revealed

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…which is to say, the fundamental process of casting magic involves selecting the desired spell, constructing the intricate spell formula that governs it, infusing the necessary activation energy, and only then can the magic be unleashed.”

Like her older sister, Gu Song’en was an ability user of the Mage type; while they bore a slight resemblance to Magical Girls, their core essence remained distinct.

One of the most significant distinctions lay in their inherent magical aptitude.

Mages could be likened to individuals who had allocated all their skill points to magic, or whose very “class bonus” was magic, their primary combat style entirely dependent upon it.

Conversely, while Magical Girls generally employed magic, their skill points were more evenly distributed, and some, like Bai Li, were almost entirely focused on physical combat.

Naturally, the adage “a mage incapable of close combat is no true mage” held some truth.

However, such instances typically involved reliance on body-enhancement magic rather than innate abilities.

Due to the additional step required, their energy utilization efficiency paled in comparison to those ability users who directly channeled energy to augment their physical prowess.

Consequently, few mages dedicated themselves to mastering close combat.

This, of course, excluded the rare few who were true prodigies.

****

“It feels just like programming.”

Teresa, who had been listening intently from the side, remarked after Gu Song’en — a Mage whose magical prowess typically surpassed that of Magical Girls — concluded her explanation.

In the fantasy works of a bygone era, the resemblance between magic and programming was a common, almost clichéd, trope.

Yet, it was astonishing to find that even with the genuine emergence of magic in their world, the parallel persisted.

It was as if not only the ability users but the entire world itself had sprung forth from a succession of tales.

“There are still some subtle differences,” Gu Song’en clarified.

“A spell’s potency is profoundly influenced by the caster’s mental state: the vividness of their imagination, the stability or intensity of their emotions… all these factors are intricately linked to the magic’s activation.

It’s what one might call ‘idealism,’ isn’t it?”

This aligned perfectly with what Ruth had previously conveyed to Bai Li: not only mana but magic itself was susceptible to the influence of willpower.

Moreover, Lin Xi’s analogy of engraved enchantments being akin to programming resonated strikingly with the female professor’s recent observation regarding the similarities between magic and enchantment.

Indeed, it seemed that not only between magic and enchantment, but also between distinct abilities, and even between abilities and magic, there lay a fundamental, shared principle.

Rumor had it that the researchers at the vanguard of this field were actively exploring these connections, going so far as to label it “the universal truth of all worlds.”

Naturally, such advanced concepts remained far beyond their current scope; none of them belonged to the manufacturing faculty or possessed abilities uniquely suited for theoretical research.

These profound truths, for now, held no immediate relevance to their lives.

Or rather, to be more precise, it was irrelevant to *most* of them.

****

“Magic, in its essence, represents a broad category of abilities whose underlying principles have been successfully reverse-engineered and subsequently replicated,” Gu Ling interjected, her voice surprising everyone.

“To employ your analogy, it’s akin to JAVA within programming languages, while immortal arts, alchemy, and other such practices are comparable to C++, Python, and so forth.”

Gu Ling, who had remained utterly silent until now, to the point where some might have thought she’d voluntarily succumbed to a social anxiety-induced faint amidst the crowd, had suddenly uttered a lengthy clarification.

“Eh, Gu Ling, how could you…?”

Not only Teresa but also Lin Xi and Bai Li were taken aback by her sudden eloquence.

After all, Gu Ling suffered from an especially severe form of social anxiety.

For her to suddenly deliver such a detailed explanation was as startling as witnessing an infant, barely a year old, speaking with perfect fluency.

Even Gu Song’en, despite being unaware of the specific nuances, instinctively sensed that something was amiss.

“Now that you mention it, I’ve had a feeling from the very beginning,” Gu Song’en mused, her gaze fixed on Gu Ling, who had abruptly straightened up.

“Are you, by any chance, the rumored genius who attained a platinum score on the Manufacturing Department’s entrance exam?”

“A platinum score? What exactly is that?”

“You’re unaware?” Gu Song’en asked, a hint of surprise in her tone.

“The Manufacturing Department operates differently from other faculties.

Its entrance examination tasks applicants with an immediate project, requiring them to craft a creation using specific materials within a set timeframe.

Every aspect—energy utilization efficiency, time taken, and more—is rigorously scrutinized.

A silver score marks the passing threshold, where the majority of students land.

A gold score, however, signifies a position among the top echelon, and I doubt more than a hundred students in this current intake achieved it.”

As the student council president’s younger sister, Gu Song’en possessed an intimate knowledge of the university’s intricacies, which she now elucidated with thorough detail.

“As for a platinum score,” she continued, “one might not even appear in a decade.

Those who manage to attain it are invariably geniuses whose prowess in crafting anomalous items vastly exceeds that of ordinary individuals, often outstripping even seasoned graduates or professional artisans.”

If Aixi University was primarily renowned for its Magical Girl program, then the Manufacturing Department followed closely as its second most prominent faculty.

Many students possessing manufacturing-type abilities sought admission to Aixi University, and among them, Gu Ling stood out as unequivocally the most exceptional, a testament to her extraordinary capabilities.

According to Gu Song’en’s understanding, Gu Ling had, in mere minutes, fashioned a bomb using only the most basic F-grade materials, yet its destructive power rivaled that of a D-class anomalous weapon.

“To optimally harness the properties of materials and enchantments, an extensive body of knowledge is indispensable,” Gu Song’en concluded.

“It’s no wonder she possesses such profound understanding.”

“Uh-uh-hehe…”

Confronted with Gu Song’en’s unwitting praise, Gu Ling emitted a peculiar squeak, a blend of social discomfort and genuine delight, resulting in an even stranger, almost comical, sound.

“So that’s the case?” Teresa muttered, a wave of self-consciousness washing over her.

“I feel like I’m the only utterly unremarkable one in this entire dorm, as if I’m being subtly ostracized…”

Having grasped the extent of Gu Ling’s genius, Teresa, who harbored no illusions about her own ordinariness, now felt profoundly out of place within their four-person dormitory.

She even sensed a pathetic, thick barrier had erected itself between them.

Who could possibly understand her plight?

Among the four, one was a Magical Girl who had already achieved professional ability user status, another could single-handedly overwhelm nearly an entire class with sheer physical attacks, and now, to top it all off, there was a max-level loli craftsman.

It felt as though her presence alone was dragging down the collective strength of their group.

“Well, you see…” Gu Song’en began, observing Teresa’s growing dejection.

“Aixi University’s dorm assignments are actually quite thoughtfully planned; any disparities, while present, aren’t usually vast.”

She offered these words of comfort to her disheartened companion.

“Perhaps you simply haven’t discovered your true calling yet,” Gu Song’en continued, gently patting Teresa’s shoulder in reassurance.

“If you persist, you will undoubtedly forge your own unique path one day.”

In that moment, Gu Song’en, comforting her dormmate with such earnestness, made one completely forget her earlier playful, almost mischievous demeanor.

She had transformed, quite strikingly, into a truly considerate and empathetic student.

“But I… I want to be a Magical Girl,” Teresa murmured, her voice laced with longing.

“Even what I awakened as *is* a Magical Girl…”

“Well… in any case, it’s never wrong to keep striving,” Gu Song’en offered, a slight hesitation in her voice.

“Perhaps you’re simply the type who grows stronger later on?”

Ultimately, it wasn’t until the class period concluded that Teresa finally regained her composure and spirits.

As for the remaining three who were ostensibly her roommates, two were lost in affectionate banter, while the third had succumbed to a deep slumber.