Because Husky was overly enthusiastic, Isaac instead felt a bit embarrassed.
He cleared his throat softly, "That’s the case, madam.
"I believe... all ’creative work’ is great, without distinction. Although it is not ’creative work’ in the ceremonial sense, it is precisely because of its sacred significance that it also possesses greatness.
"This is also the subject of a paper I wrote previously. ’On the Value of the Act of Creative Work Itself and the Subsequent Mutual Bestownt of Sacredness between Ceremonial Creative Work’: I discussed this situation in it."
Isaac recited the long title of the paper quickly.
"...Madam?"
Husky’s brain crashed for a mont upon hearing about the paper, but after a reboot, she paused and noticed the previous address.
Her face turned red—clearly, she was not yet accustod to this form of address.
Then, she suddenly realized that she was playing as a female character. The address was not a problem.
So, she quickly laughed it off, "You are the elder; just calling by my na is fine..."
Although Husky appeared to be only a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl, she was already a high-level silver-ranked Wizard. No matter how young she was, she couldn’t be that young—perhaps so ritual had extended her life.
"With so many achievents, you not only deserve to be called ’Madam Husky,’ you could even be addressed as ’Lady Husky.’"
Isaac said earnestly.
Husky looked utterly despondent.
Although she knew that people in this world transliterated player nas without understanding their anings, being earnestly addressed as "Lady Husky" in front of everyone was still sowhat embarrassing...
"My na is Thirteen Spices; I’m her assistant and friend."
Just then, Thirteen Spices appeared from the side, naturally taking over the conversation that was about to freeze: "Hello, Mr. Isaac... It seems you don’t have any prejudice against gaming, do you?"
"Of course, this is after all part of the Idol School. Just like I wouldn’t discriminate against a Soul Reaping Wizard..."
Isaac glanced aningfully at Thirteen Spices, the corners of his mouth slightly curving up: "If playing gas is also considered a profession, then wizards of Thousand-Faced Phantom Tower could indeed be called professionals. Especially these gas that mimic Wizard duels or power struggles, I think that’s very good—it provides a habit of perspective switching, which is beneficial for the study of spells.
"I don’t dislike you guys gathering to play gas. But yelling and screaming in front of guests, what kind of image does that present? Do you lack so much experience? How would others evaluate you?"
Isaac scanned the group of young wizards around him, put on a stern face, and criticized: "Why does each of you look so scared when you see ? I’ve never physically punished you; what exactly are you afraid of? Or do you know inside that it’s wrong, and feel shaful that I would see it?
"When you play gas, do you ever think of integrating the inspiration into your own spells? Are you mindlessly fighting, or are you seriously thinking about how to win? Have you deeply considered what the fun part of the ga is, and why you like it? Huh?"
Hearing Isaac’s scolding, so young wizards actually relaxed and confidently raised their heads; but many others lowered their heads even further.
This ti they were not scared, but truly ashad and began to reflect.
"And you..."
Isaac’s mouth curved up, aningfully saying: "You don’t look like a wizard; you’re more like a politician. However, by the standards of the Soul Reaping Wizards, you’re quite suitable."
He clearly guessed Thirteen Spices’ intention.
—Although the young wizards couldn’t tell, this was actually an overture from Thirteen Spices to him.
Because Thirteen Spices’ previous statent wasn’t really asking Isaac.
If it really had been him asking, then given their first eting and nearly interrogative tone, directly inquiring about such a "how do you see sothing-sothing" issue would have already been offensive.
Who are you to that I should share my viewpoint?
But in reality, Isaac was giving Thirteen Spices a way out. It was like in a codic duo where one has to play the straight man to set up the conversation, allowing Isaac to continue.
After all, Isaac’s sudden intrusion was actually to present a good image of the Marshland Black Tower before the Duke of Winter—it hinted at "it’s not that my students lack manners; our Wizard’s education has always been good. Today was just an exception, an exception that even made angry."
This was essentially an action for the sake of the Heath Tower of Black.
After all, he belonged to the Jade Tower. Not only was he a professor from another university, but he was also not from this country; having this kind of discipline-preserving behavior was quite friendly.
If he too had created a fuss or had failed to stop the students, by the ti Thirteen Spices and Husky spread the word, the reliability of the Zedi Black Tower Wizards would have greatly diminished.
But Isaac’s actions, if left without a reasonable explanation, once the fear subsided, to cover up their own "fear"—an immature and ugly behavior—people would subconsciously look for reasons to justify themselves, turning fear into an inexplicable disgust.
This was in itself a kind of harm to these young wizards. In the end, they would not learn anything from the experience but would simply think Isaac was "out of his mind" or "ddling."
If it were a ntor from the Black Tower of Marshland, perhaps they would have explained a little.
However, Isaac didn’t take this matter seriously.
Just maintaining a bit of order was already impressive for him. He simply disdained talking about such matters with his students—or rather, it was precisely because of the students’ overreactions that he was even more pleased with the wizards he had once taught at the Jade Tower.
Of course, the biggest reason here was the disconnections at the Heath Tower of Black.
If the Heath Tower was a regular three-to-five-year program, the senior students would maintain discipline deliberately to preserve their own authority and dignity; it wouldn’t be so chaotic.
It was because they lacked seniors or even classes and grades that they were in such disorder.
Thirteen Spices’s question also gave Isaac an incentive to explain, and the tense atmosphere thus beca relaxed. This transford into a collective educational session, filled with taphorical ’chicken soup.’
The young wizards internalized their fear, quietly transforming it into self-reflection and a desire to beco stronger. They might even turn their fear into admiration, considering Isaac an incredible adult.
Thirteen Spice’s seemingly self-deprecating and rude behavior, even though he was lightly scolded in return—leading possibly to students who now admired Isaac looking down on this "rash behavior"—was precisely a favor he was selling to Isaac.
Though Isaac didn’t need such favors.
But now he had to accept it.
So, Isaac muttered sowhat discontentedly—this manipulation of emotions, these intrigues for petty gains reminded him of the wizards from the Soul Snatching School.
In that previous era, many Soul Reaping Wizards entered politics. Even without using spells, their oratory skills, learned in the Wizard’s Tower, were enough to bewitch the masses.
"Go back and rest for now."
With Isaac’s command, the young wizards quickly headed back to their rooms, relieved. They left quickly and quietly.
Turning back, he looked at Thirteen Spices with interest, "I’ve heard...
"Your spell list is still basically empty? You hope that I can guide you?"
—Previously controlled by Soul Snatching Wizards and puppeteered for over a decade, Isaac had perked up when he first heard this news from Hugo.
For so reason, Isaac’s gaze suddenly seed a bit dangerous.
The business-like smile that Thirteen Spices had maintained now stiffened sowhat, "Yes... yes..."
"You’ve found the right person," Isaac stated affirmatively.
Thirteen Spices could even faintly hear an undertone of gritting his teeth, "If it’s about the spells of the Soul Snatching School, I believe there are few in this world who understand them deeper than I do..."
—Suddenly, Thirteen Spices felt a sense of danger flash above his head.
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