At dawn, Roland was pulled out of bed by Nightingale—this was the first time such a thing had happened, just as Nana Wa had been discovered as a Witch by Tigu Payne.
"What's going on? Did they find another witch in town?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
"No, Your Highness!" Nightingale exclaimed with excitement. "Anna... her abilities have changed again!" "Again?" Roland was still half-asleep. "She's already an adult!" "A change after adulthood. I've never seen such an astonishing Magic Power form—it's almost like a physical entity." Nightingale brought the washbasin. "Neither Shujuan nor Wendy has heard of this. Go see it yourself—everyone's waiting for you in the office!" Roland washed his face hastily, put on his clothes, and followed Nightingale upstairs. As he entered the office, eleven witches immediately turned their gaze toward him. Anna's eyes were noticeably puffy, as if she hadn't slept well all night.
"Who can tell me what really happened?" Nightingale spoke first. "This morning when I walked past Anna's room, I saw her sleeping at the desk with a pile of iron lumps. I was about to wake her up when I noticed her Magic Power had transformed..." She paused, struggling to find the right words. "It took on a fixed shape—like a constantly spinning cube." "A cube?" Roland approached Anna, scrutinizing her appearance. Apart from her slightly weary expression, there was nothing unusual. His attention then turned to a cylindrical object on the table, made of raw iron. The grayish-white smooth surface and flat cut at the top made him think he was seeing things. "This..." "Anna created it," Nightingale explained. "With her new ability. When a Witch awakens, her body accumulates Magic Power. Initially as thin as mist, it gradually forms colorful swirling patterns over years—Wendy's is white, Leaf's is green... Anna's former Magic Power was immense, condensing into dark green when she grew up. But now, her Magic Power is only fist-sized, solid and completely opaque." She picked up the quill pen on the desk and sketched it. "It's something like this." Though Nightingale's drawing skills were poor, Roland still recognized the cube.
He turned to Anna and asked, "What happened last night?" Anna recounted her experience. When she finished, the other witches remained utterly perplexed, unable to grasp the connection between the small sphere, vibrations, connections, and power fluctuations she had mentioned.
Only Roland felt a slight flutter in his heart.
In his vision, Magic Power is an energy source, and the Witch is the vessel that unleashes it. While Magic Power can transform into countless effects, the final outcome is determined by the Witch who controls it—or, more precisely, by the Witch's will.
If his guess is correct, thinking can have a profound impact on ability.
Put simply, one who has never seen an airplane would find it hard to imagine a giant iron bird soaring through the sky; likewise, someone unfamiliar with the cosmos would never grasp the boundless expanse of this world. The height of one's thinking and the breadth of their knowledge limit their ability to wield Magic Power—every deeper understanding of the world's essence drives technological progress. Could it be that witches' abilities follow the same logic? As their comprehension of the world deepens, the effects of Magic Power may return to their primal essence?
"Let me see your new abilities," Roland asked curiously.
Anna extended her finger, and a jet of black flame materialized from her fingertips. It looked just like ordinary flames, except it didn't emit light.
"Can your black fire take on any shape?" Anna nodded and guided it to the table. The natural flame-like black fire instantly transformed into a cube. Before anyone could react, the block expanded into a black cloth covering nearly the entire surface, then coalesced into a vertical line. Roland couldn't resist touching it and found the hair-thin black thread remained perfectly still—unbelievable, for even steel, when stretched thin, bends easily under finger pressure. This is the result of material flexibility; absolute rigidity simply doesn't exist.
"Can it be more refined?" "Yes, but then you won't be able to touch it," Anna replied. "Otherwise, it might cut you." "Can the temperature be adjusted?" "Well, unlike Green Fire, I can regulate its heat intensity at different points." Roland began to grasp Nightingale's metaphorical meaning. Her current power had crystallized into distinct zones of warmth—unlike Green Fire's liquid-like heat, her ability transcended mere flames. When Anna embraced the concept that all things exist as microscopic particles, her understanding of fire's temperature generation evolved to recognize particle motion as the source. It was clear she wasn't manipulating particles, just as she hadn't controlled flames before... Whether the ordinary flames of youth or the mature Green Fire and Black Flame, they all represented manifestations of Magic Power.
Although both convert Magic Power into heat, their effects are entirely different.
Roland couldn't help but marvel at true genius, for he could think of no more fitting adjective than' genius.' The ability to instantly grasp and apply new knowledge after studying it that very night, along with such a mindset and absorptive capacity, is a trait exclusive to those of extraordinary talent.
Anna's change also makes him more interested in exploring the true meaning of the world.
Roland couldn't help but feel regretful about not possessing Magic Power. This, he thought, might be the greatest regret of his time-travel experience. After all, most people harbor a superhero dream—how exhilarating it would be to stumble upon incredible powers and embark on a path unlike anyone else's.
"I think I understand why Anna's abilities changed," he said, putting aside his regret, to the witches.
"What is it?"
"Learning." "Learn...ing?" the book murmured. "Are you referring to yesterday's lesson?" "Exactly," Roland succinctly explained his theory. "Insight helps you enhance your abilities, even achieving transformative leaps." "May I..." Mysterious Moon asked timidly.
"Of course," Roland patted her shoulder. Had it not been for the limited number of steam engines and the unavailability of rubber for wire production, the stack of powerful magnets she had conjured would have been put to good use long ago.
Originally, Roland's course was meant to pass on knowledge to the scholars, preventing his own memory from fading. But he unexpectedly discovered that learning could also enhance abilities, making it essential to teach all the witches together.
He knew full well that not everyone possessed Anna's extraordinary talent. Take Nightingale, who could doze off during lectures—he had no illusions about her. The gap between memorization and comprehension, then between comprehension and application, stretched as wide as the ocean. And how many could truly transform that knowledge into practical skills? That remained an open question.
"You didn't sleep well last night," Roland said to Anna. "Get some rest first. I'll test your new ability properly in a couple of days." "Hmm," Anna nodded earnestly.
"As for you," he turned to the other witches, "from today onward, gather in the drawing room every Monday through Friday after dinner to begin with the most fundamental lessons in reading, writing, and character recognition. Book, you are their first teacher."