I Made Up Forbidden Spells, and They Actually Worked?

Upon hearing Alita Miller's words, Dean Bruce couldn't help but smirk derisively. If it weren't for the agreement and ongoing collaboration between them, he might have outright mocked her.

A good opportunity, and Alita Miller would just pass it up? That was hard to believe.

Dean Bruce wasn't someone easily fooled; in his previous life, it was always him doing the deceiving.

Noticing the disdain in Dean Bruce's expression, Alita Miller smiled and said, "I'm not lying. It really is a good opportunity, but it requires you to play a part."

Pausing briefly, she continued, "You enjoy reading so much—I'm sure you'd love ancient texts on magic too. If you manage to pull this off, you'll gain access to a wealth of books and even some secret histories of the magical world!"

Dean Bruce remained silent, his expression unchanged as he stared intently at Alita Miller.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Alita Miller began to feel uneasy under his gaze. Filled with confusion, she couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you really into books? Why aren't you curious about this?"

"Why should I be curious?" Dean Bruce replied, his voice calm. "Would my curiosity make you hand over the benefits right now?"

Hearing this, Alita Miller's mouth twitched in frustration.

In the past, she had always succeeded, whether by using her charm or offering enticing benefits.

No one had ever resisted both—until now.

With a resigned sigh, Alita Miller decided to stop beating around the bush. "Do you know about the Temple of the Goddess of Wisdom?"

Dean Bruce maintained a composed exterior, but inwardly, he was taken aback.

On the planet Meze, various temples and churches dedicated to different deities were scattered everywhere, yet during his time here, he had gathered very little information about them.

Beyond the whispered legends, there was nothing concrete.

If this were Earth, Dean Bruce would have dismissed the notion of gods as mere fiction.

But Meze was a world of magic, a place where the supernatural was real.

This meant there was a strong possibility that deities actually existed here. Naturally, Dean Bruce was keen to learn more about them, and perhaps even find a way to contact them. He had one pressing question in mind—was there any chance of returning to Earth?

Alita Miller glanced at Dean Bruce, observing his calm expression. Realizing she couldn't lure him in easily, she continued, "A few days ago, the next potential Saintess of the Temple of Wisdom was chosen. Coincidentally, she's from the neighboring city of Stanlow, and in a few days, she'll be passing through Notting City on her way home to perform a ceremony."

"If you manage to connect with her and build a good relationship, gaining access to the Temple of Wisdom in the future won't be an issue. That temple holds the most extensive and diverse collection of books on the entire continent—books that you would absolutely love!"

Hearing this, Dean Bruce understood what Alita Miller and her group were aiming for. He couldn't help but smile. "So you want to stage an attack on her, and then have me step in to play the hero? The classic 'damsel in distress' scenario?"

"Exactly!" Alita Miller replied with a smile. "It may be a cliché, but it works surprisingly well!"

"Sorry, but I don't believe you'd go to all this trouble just to do me a favor," Dean Bruce said.

He shaking his head. He closed the book he was reading and turned to leave.

Alita Miller had misjudged him. He wasn't someone who genuinely enjoyed reading—his current interest in books was purely for the sake of gathering theoretical knowledge to better deceive others.

Since he didn't care for reading, there was no reason to involve himself in her scheme.

A potential Saintess of the Temple of Wisdom?

What did that have to do with him?

His priority was to keep a low profile, deceive as many people as possible, and quickly accumulate rewards to ensure he had the strength to protect himself in this world. That was what truly mattered.

"..."

"Fine, just don't forget about Sophia's farewell party tomorrow night,"

Alita Miller called after him, watching his retreating figure with growing curiosity in her eyes.

Leaving the library, Dean Bruce didn't wander around aimlessly. He headed straight back to his dormitory.

Tomorrow would be the first official day of classes and also his first lesson. He needed to prepare thoroughly. Even if he couldn't immediately deceive his students, he could at least lay the groundwork to ensure they wouldn't suspect anything later.

"Based on the books, the core of magic is divided into two main types, but what people commonly use falls into categories like attack, defense, and support. I can reuse the explanation I gave Joan—claim that magic isn't really divided into types but rather varies based on its purpose and how it's manifested."

"This approach can serve as the guiding principle for my teaching philosophy! Everything is mind over matter! But what about when they want to learn basic or intermediate magic?"

"Or should I only teach advanced and supreme magic? And for those who are at a lower level but still want to learn these higher-level spells... Should I simply say that as a mage, they must have an ambitious heart, believing they can master these high-level spells despite their current status?"

Dean Bruce pondered deeply throughout the night, finally managing to merge the ideas he used to deceive Joan Michelle and Nicholas William into a coherent system by dawn.

This way, no matter how many students or disciples he took on, he wouldn't have to worry about inconsistent explanations.

Of course, if any differences arose, Dean Bruce could always find a reason.

After all, philosophers have said that teaching should be tailored to the individual. He wasn't contradicting his own theories; rather, he was perfectly embodying the philosopher's ideal.

However, no matter how tailored the teaching might be, it needed a central doctrine. Otherwise, saying something entirely different each time would even make a fool suspicious.

Glancing at the time, Dean Bruce realized it was getting late. Without even washing his face, he grabbed his staff and, with a weary look on his face, hurried to the classroom.

He arrived just as the bell rang, and as soon as he stepped through the door, the enthusiastic chatter of the students almost made him lose his footing.

Used to such reactions by now, Dean Bruce walked to the podium, sat down, and said, "Today is our first class together. Let's get to know each other, and I'll also cover some basic concepts."

He paused for a moment, sweeping his gaze across the students with a serious expression. "Starting from the next class, I won't be discussing any basic theories. This is my teaching method. If anyone can't accept it, now is your chance to switch classes."

No matter how much effort he put into reading theoretical books, Dean Bruce knew that occasionally spouting some of that knowledge was one thing, but fully taking on the role of a teacher was another.

The reality was that his soul belonged to the modern world, and the magic he understood was all directly rewarded by the system. There was no real insight behind it.

As Dean Bruce's words hung in the air, the thirty-odd students exchanged puzzled glances. Only Nicholas William, already familiar with this teaching style, remained unfazed.

Dean Bruce's unconventional method left the students bewildered, but Joan Michelle's success had instilled a strong sense of confidence in them. Despite their confusion, they chose to accept his approach.

"Good!" Dean Bruce said, noting the absence of objections. He continued, "Let me ask you something: Do you think the purpose and types of magic are fixed?"

"Of course, they are! Otherwise, why would we have categories like attack magic, defense magic, and so on?"

"Exactly! Some spells can only be activated through rituals or using specific arrays. Without those, no matter how much mana you have, you wouldn't be able to cast them. So, they must be different!"

The students began voicing their opinions, chattering all at once.

Dean Bruce suddenly posed another question: "Alright, imagine there are two spells—one is a standard fireball, and the other is a flaming skull. Which one would you be more afraid of?"

"Huh?"

"The flaming skull, of course!"

"Yeah, skulls are way scarier!"

The students were visibly perplexed, some asking, "But what does that have to do with the types of magic? Aren't those just two different spells?"

"It has everything to do with it!" Dean Bruce's lips curled into a knowing smile as he explained, "If I were to cast a fireball spell and simply change its shape to look like a skull, would it still be considered a fireball spell?"

"And if that flaming skull is technically a fireball, would you classify it as elemental magic or shaping magic?"

"…"

The students' eyes widened in shock as if a bolt of lightning had struck their minds, shattering their previous understanding of magic.

For a moment, they stared at Dean Bruce as if he were a deity.

Was this... the mindset of a true master?