論壇

伦纳德·弗洛维森站在「诺伦堡综合学院」——他那「不算差也不算好」的未来母校——那扇看起来饱经风霜，仿佛经历过几次小型魔咒实验事故的橡木大门前。他深吸了一口气，空气中弥漫着青草、旧羊皮纸，以及一丝……硫磺和烤焦羽毛的混合气味？嗯，很魔法。

他穿着一身崭新的、浆洗得有点发硬的学徒灰袍，感觉像被套进了一个麻袋里。这袍子，据说是为了体现「知识的朴素与厚重」，但伦纳德私下觉得，更像是为了让学生们看起来更「统一」，方便管理——或者方便在混乱的魔咒实验后辨认尸体？他赶紧把这个不吉利的念头甩开。

「姓名，籍贯，录取通知书。」一个平板无波的声音响起。门廊阴影里坐着一位戴着厚厚镜片的老先生，他面前的桌子上堆满了卷轴和一本散发着微弱魔法波动的名册。他的手指枯瘦，指甲缝里似乎藏着几个世纪的灰尘。

「伦纳德·弗洛维森。诺王朝，王都第三区。」伦纳德递上那份印着学院公章的羊皮纸。他的声音带着一丝不易察觉的紧张，但更多的是好奇。

老先生抬起眼皮，浑浊的目光透过镜片扫了他一眼，又低头看了看名册，用一支秃了毛的羽毛笔在上面划了一下。「弗洛维森…嗯。新生通道，左边第三个拱门。进去后找『分流水晶球』，它会告诉你去哪个分院报道。愿知识之光指引你…或者别的东西。」他最后嘟囔了一句，声音低得几乎听不见。

「感谢您的指引，先生」伦纳德道了声谢，随后走进了大门。门内是一个巨大的、挑高的穹顶大厅。阳光透过镶嵌着彩色玻璃的穹顶照射下来，在地面投下斑斓的光影。大厅中央，悬浮着一个直径约两米、散发着柔和白光的巨大水晶球，周围已经围了不少和他一样穿着灰袍的新生，以及少数几个穿着各色长袍、袖口绣着不同徽记的高年级学生，他们脸上带着一种「过来人」的优越感。

空气中充满了嗡嗡的交谈声、惊叹声，还有水晶球偶尔发出的轻微嗡鸣。伦纳德挤进人群，靠近那被称为「分流水晶球」的奇物。它光滑的表面映出他有些模煳的倒影。旁边一个看起来像是引导员的学生懒洋洋地喊道：「新生！把手放在球上！别怕，它不吃人，顶多让你麻一下！」

伦纳德依言，将手掌轻轻贴上水晶球的表面。冰凉，光滑。瞬间，一股细微的电流感窜过指尖，水晶球内部的光芒开始流转，色彩变幻，如同打翻的调色盘。几秒钟后，光芒稳定下来，在水晶球中央投射出几个清晰、由光线构成的古佩罗因文字：

院校：魔咒理论系三号院

导师：埃德加·威尔斯 

报道地点：北区，10号教堂，三楼，七号研究室。

「3号院」伦纳德念出声，感觉这名字透着一股浓浓的「官方」气息。和他想象中挥挥手召唤火球或者骑着扫帚满天飞的「实用派」似乎有点差距。不过，他很快释然了。也好，他穿越前就不是什么热血战斗狂，官方化代表更注重理论，搞清楚「魔法到底是什么」、「为什么能变出面包」这种本源问题，似乎更符合他的求知欲。毕竟，不了解原理，怎么「创新」或者…嗯，进行其他「应用」呢？

他按照大厅墙壁上那些发光的箭头指示，穿过喧闹的人群，走向通往北塔楼的通道。走廊两侧的墙壁上挂着历代着名校友的画像，他们的眼睛似乎会跟着路过的新生转动。伦纳德尽量目不斜视，但总觉得有几道目光格外「关切」。

爬上盘旋的石阶，来到北塔楼三层。这里的空气明显更安静，也更…陈旧。带着灰尘和古老羊皮卷的味道。他找到第七研究室的门牌——一扇厚重的木门，上面钉着一块黄铜铭牌，刻着「七号实验室」。

伦纳德整理了一下自己的灰袍，清了清嗓子，模仿着记忆里那些「文质彬彬」的腔调，抬手敲了敲门。

「请进，愿七神的智慧之光暂时驱散你眼前的迷雾，新来的小家伙。」一个略显沙哑，但吐字异常清晰，带着某种韵律感的声音从门内传来。

伦纳德推门而入。研究室里堆满了书——书架上是书，桌子上是书，甚至地上也摞着几叠。空气中除了灰尘味，还有淡淡的草药和金属混合的奇异气味。一个头发花白、乱糟糟如同被静电咒击中过，穿着深紫色镶银边长袍的瘦高老者，正从一堆卷轴里抬起头，透过一副金丝单片眼镜打量着他。他的眼睛锐利得像鹰隼，但嘴角却挂着一丝若有若无的、仿佛看透一切的玩味笑容。

「尊敬的威尔斯教授，日安。我是伦纳德·弗洛维森，新分配到您这里的学生。」伦纳德微微躬身，努力让自己的措辞显得得体。

「这算是高考学子被录取——有大学了」伦纳德心中如此想道。

埃德加·威尔斯教授放下手中的羽毛笔，笔尖还沾着闪着微光的墨水，慢悠悠地站起身。他的长袍下摆扫过地面，带起一小片尘埃。「啊，弗洛维森先生。欢迎来到魔咒理论的世界，一个探索『为什么火球会燃烧』比『如何让火球更大』更有趣的地方。」他走到伦纳德面前，单片眼镜后的目光似乎能穿透他的灰袍，「告诉我，年轻人，你对魔法最根本的好奇是什么？是它那炫目的力量表象，还是…支撑它存在的、那冰冷而精妙的逻辑骨架？」

伦纳德迎上教授的目光。这一刻，他日记里那些关于「魔法本质」的疑问，那些穿越者独有的、超越时代的好奇心，瞬间变得无比清晰。他深吸一口气，用自己所能掌控的最「文雅」的语调，却也带着一丝抑制不住的探究欲，回答道：

「尊敬的教授，比起火焰的灼热，我更想了解点燃它的那第一缕火花，究竟源于何处？那面包凭空出现的瞬间，是奇迹，还是…某种我们尚未完全理解的『规则』在悄然运转？我渴望知道的，是骨架，是支撑表象的基石。至于力量…」他顿了顿，露出一个带着学生气的、略显谦逊的微笑，「我想，理解了骨架，力量或许会随之而来？就像理解了杠杆，举起巨石才不再是蛮力。」

威尔斯教授那双锐利的眼睛，在伦纳德回答时，似乎亮了一下。他嘴角那玩味的笑容加深了，仿佛发现了一块未经雕琢、但质地奇特的璞玉。

「哦？一个追求『第一缕火花』和『面包背后的规则』的年轻人？」教授的声音里带上了一丝真正的兴趣，不再仅仅是程式化的欢迎，「有意思，非常有意思。弗洛维森先生，你的好奇心像一把精准的解剖刀，而非一把粗糙的战锤。很好…非常好。」他转过身，指向研究室角落里一张堆满了书的小桌子，「那就是你未来一段时间的『战场』。坐下吧。在带你去领基础教材和分配宿舍之前，我们先来探讨一个最基础，却也最容易被忽略的『小』问题：当你念出一个魔咒的第一个音节时，你究竟是在向『谁』或者『什么』发出指令？是人体的某种能量？是古老的恶魔契约？还是…世界本身内置的某种『程序』？」

伦纳德的心跳微微加速。他走向那张小桌子，看着上面那些厚重、封面印着复杂纹路的典籍，感觉一扇通往未知世界核心的大门，正在这位看似古怪的教授面前，向他缓缓开启。入学第一天，似乎就接触到了比「喷火咒」更本源的东西？

他拉开椅子坐下，灰袍的褶皱似乎都带上了一丝求知的郑重。

「教授，」伦纳德的目光扫过那些深奥的书名，最终落回威尔斯教授闪烁着智慧光芒的脸上，「我对此…充满期待。请您开始吧。」

威尔斯教授满意地点点头，单片眼镜在从高窗斜射进来的阳光中，闪过一道微光。他的研究室内，关于魔法最根本问题的探讨，即将在这位新入学的、内心藏着野心的穿越者面前展开。而学院其他地方，关于权力、资源、派系的暗流，暂时还离这张堆满书的小桌子很远。

但伦纳德·弗洛维森知道，学习这些「骨架」和「规则」，绝不会仅仅是为了知识本身。他需要力量，需要理解这个世界的运行逻辑，无论这力量是为了自保，还是为了…别的什么。比如，有朝一日能心平气和地回答那个问题：「谁是大学的校长？」

他翻开威尔斯教授推过来的第一本厚重笔记，标题是：《魔咒指令的底层逻辑假说与元素共鸣扰动观察记录（第一卷）》。入学第一课，开始了。

PS：抱歉，各位读者，由于今天我的vpn处于免费区检修状态，所以仍然只能更新少许章节，但是这次字数写多了一点，当做是某种补偿吧。明天多更一些，或许会更很多，但也或许不会太多，我不敢像昨天一样说出要更新四章的豪言壮语了，但明天总归会补回来的，说是4章，那就绝对是4章，写了一个章，还剩三个章，再算上明天当天要更新的，总共也就是明天同样要写4章，如果明天没出什么意外的话，那这个数量是没错的。

Leonard Frovison stood in front of the "Norenburg Comprehensive College"-his "not bad or good" future alma mater-the oak gate that looked weathered and had experienced several small-scale magic experiments. He took a deep breath, and the air was filled with grass, old parchment, and a hint of... a mixture of sulfur and burnt feathers Well, it's magic.

He was dressed in a brand new, slightly hardened apprentice's gray robe, and felt like he had been put in a sack. The robe is said to be meant to reflect "the simplicity and weight of knowledge," but in private, Leonard felt it was more like a way to make the students look more "unified" and easier to manage-or to identify the bodies after a chaotic spell experiment? He hastened to throw away this unlucky thought.

"Name, place of origin, admission notice. "A flat panel sounded without wave. In the shadow of the porch sat an old gentleman with thick lenses, and the table in front of him was piled with scrolls and a book that emitted faint magic waves. His fingers were thin, and there seemed to be centuries of dust hidden between his nails.

"Leonard Frovison. The Nou Dynasty, the third district of the king's capital. Leonard handed over the parchment paper with the college seal. His voice had a hint of imperceptible tension, but more of curiosity.

The old man raised his eyelids, and his cloudy eyes glanced through the lens, then looked down at the list, and scratched it with a bald quill. "Flovison... Hmm. The freshman passage, the third arch on the left. After entering, look for the "diversion crystal ball," it will tell you which branch to report to. May the light of knowledge guide you... or something else. He finally muttered, his voice almost inaudible.

"Thank you for your guidance, sir," Leonard thanked him, and walked through the door. Inside the door is a huge, high-ceilinged dome hall. Sunlight shines through the dome with colored glass, casting colorful light and shadow on the ground. In the center of the hall, there was a huge crystal ball with a diameter of about two meters, emitting soft white light, surrounded by many freshmen wearing gray robes like him, as well as a few senior students wearing various colored robes with different emblems on their cuffs. They have a sense of superiority on their faces.

The air was filled with buzzing conversations, exclamations, and the occasional slight buzzing of the crystal ball. Leonard squeezed into the crowd and approached the wonder known as the "dividing crystal ball." Its smooth surface reflected his somewhat blurry reflection. A student who looked like a guide next to him lazily shouted, "Freshman!" Put your hands on the ball! Don't be afraid, it doesn't eat people, at most it will make you numb!"

As he said, Leonard lightly pressed his palm against the surface of the crystal ball. Cold, smooth. In an instant, a subtle sense of electric current rushes through the fingertips, and the light inside the crystal ball begins to flow, and the colors change, like an overturned palette. After a few seconds, the light stabilizes, and several clear, light-formed ancient Peroin characters are projected in the center of the crystal ball:

School: Department of Curse Theory No. 3

Mentor: Edgar Wells

Location: North District, Church No. 10, 3rd floor, Research Room No. 7.

"No. 3" Leonard said out loud, feeling that the name exuded a strong "official" atmosphere. It seems a bit different the "practical" he imagines waving his hand to summon fireballs or flying around on a broomstick. However, he soon let go. Well, before time travel, he was not a passionate battle fanatic. The official representation focuses more on theory, understanding the fundamental questions of "what is magic" and "why can bread be created," which seems to be more in line with his thirst for knowledge. After all, without understanding the principles, how can you "innovate" or... well, do other "applications"?

He followed the glowing arrows on the walls of the hall, and walked through the noisy crowd towards the passage to the North Tower. The walls on both sides of the corridor are adorned with portraits of famous alumni past generations, whose eyes seem to follow the passing freshmen. Leonard tried not to look at him, but he always felt that there were a few eyes that were particularly "concerned."

Climbing up the winding stone steps to the third floor of the North Tower. The air here is obviously quieter and more... old. With the smell of dust and old parchment rolls. He found the doorplate of the seventh research room-a heavy wooden door with a brass plaque on it that read "Laboratory No. 7."

Leonard tidied up his gray robe, cleared his throat, and imitated the "gentle and polite" tone in his memory, and knocked on the door with his hand.

"Please come in, may the light of the wisdom of the seven gods temporarily dispel the fog in front of you, new little one. "A slightly hoarse, but exceptionally clear pronunciation, with a certain rhythm, came inside the door.

Leonard pushed the door in. The lab was full of books-books on the shelves, books on the desk, and even a few stacks on the floor. In addition to the smell of dust, there is also a faint strange smell of herbs and metals mixed in the air. A tall, white-haired, messy old man in a dark purple silver-trimmed robe was looking up a pile of scrolls and looking at him through a pair of gold-threaded monocles. His eyes were as sharp as a falcon, but there was a hint of playful smile at the corners of his mouth, as if he could see through everything.

"Dear Professor Wells, good day. I'm Leonard Frovison, the new student assigned to you. Leonard slightly bowed, trying to make his words appear appropriate.

"This is a college entrance examination student being admitted-there's a college," Leonard thought.

Professor Edgar Wells put down his quill in his hand, with the tip still shining with ink, and stood up slowly. The hem of his robe swept across the ground, carrying a small patch of dust. "Ah, Mr. Flovison. Welcome to the world of magic theory, a place it's more interesting to explore why fireballs burn than how to make them bigger. He walked up to Leonard, and his eyes behind the monocles seemed to penetrate his gray robe, "Tell me, young man, what is your fundamental curiosity about magic?" Is it its dazzling appearance of power, or... the cold and exquisite logical framework that supports its existence?"

Leonard met the professor's gaze. At this moment, the questions about the "essence of magic" in his diary, the unique and transcendent curiosity of the time-traveler, instantly became incredibly clear. He took a deep breath, using the most "gentle" tone he could control, but also with an uncontrollable desire to explore, and answered:

"Dear professor, I want to know the first spark that ignited it came rather than the scorching heat of the flame." The moment the bread appeared out of thin air, was it a miracle, or... some kind of "rule" that we haven't fully understood yet was quietly operating? What I long to know is the skeleton, the foundation that supports the appearance. As for strength... "he paused, showing a slightly humble smile with a studentishness. "I think, understanding the skeleton, strength may follow? Just like understanding the lever, lifting Monolith is no longer brute force."

Professor Wells' sharp eyes seemed to light up when Leonard answered. The playful smile at the corner of his mouth deepened, as if he had discovered a piece of uncarved, but peculiarly textured jade.

"Oh? A young man who pursues the'first spark' and the'rules behind the bread'?" The professor's voice had a hint of genuine interest, no longer just a stylized welcome, "Interesting, very interesting." Mr. Frovison, your curiosity is like a precise scalpel, not a rough warhammer. Very good... Very good. He turned around and pointed to a small table full of books in the corner of the research room, "That's your'battlefield' for some time to come." Sit down. Before taking you to receive basic teaching materials and assign dormitories, let's first discuss a basic but also easily overlooked "small" question: When you say the first syllable of a spell, are you giving instructions to "who" or "what"? Is it some kind of energy in the human body? It's an old demonic pact? Or... some kind of "program" built into the world itself?"

Leonard's heart beats slightly faster. He walked towards the small table, looking at the thick, intricately printed books on the cover, and felt a door to the core of the unknown world slowly opening in front of this seemingly eccentric professor. On the first day of school, it seems that you have come into contact with something more fundamental than the "fire-breathing spell"?

He pulled up his chair and sat down. The folds of the gray robe seemed to carry a hint of the solemnity of seeking knowledge.

"Professor," Leonard's gaze swept over the profound titles of the books and finally returned to Professor Wells's face, shining with wisdom. "I am full of anticipation for this. Please start."

Professor Wells nodded with satisfaction, and the monocles flashed a faint light in the Sunlight slanted in the high window. In his research room, the exploration of the most fundamental questions of magic is about to unfold in front of this newly enrolled, ambitious time traveler. In other parts of the college, the undercurrents of power, resources, and factions are still far this small table filled with books.

But Leonard Frovison knew that learning these "skeletons" and "rules" was never just for the sake of knowledge itself. He needs power, he needs to understand the logic of the world, whether it's for self-protection or... something else. For example, one day I can answer that question calmly: "Who is the president of the university?"

He opened the first heavy note that Professor Wells had pushed over, with the title: "The underlying logical hypothesis of the spell command and the observation record of element resonance disturbance (Volume 1)". The first class of school begins.

Postscript: Sorry, readers, because my VPN is in the free zone maintenance state today, so I can only a few chapters, but this time I wrote a little more words, as some kind of compensation. Tomorrow is more, maybe more, but maybe not too much, I dare not say the same as yesterday to the four chapters of the bold words, but tomorrow will always be back, said to be four chapters, that is absolutely four chapters, wrote a chapter, there are three chapters left, plus tomorrow to the same day, a total of four chapters will be written tomorrow, if there is no accident tomorrow. That's the right amount.