Orion had become accustomed to his system interface. He had developed a habit of checking it every morning after waking up and every night before going to sleep, just to ensure that nothing had suddenly changed.

  The mysteries surrounding it were still numerous, but he felt confident about his current situation. He knew that an eleven in body meant he was slightly stronger than the average ten-year-old, that a twenty-one in attunement was considerably higher than the average score, and that a twenty-seven in mind was off the charts for his age.

  He had come to understand that mana manipulation was the basic ability to interact with mana, and that without it, a class was considered lesser, or mundane, to be polite.

  The fact that it was E-rank—something most people apparently could not see—implied it was quite limited; yet, it alone was enough to place him apart from the masses.

  Overall, his status was a testament to the effort he had made to grow, to understand how the world worked, and what the limits of its laws were. If he had to compare himself to his “age mates,” he’d honestly be able to say he was leaps and bounds ahead.

  But everyone who had ever let anything about real classes slip—those they would receive during the mysterious ceremony they underwent at thirteen—had told him that the difference was quite significant. They also mentioned that the gap between those who received a higher-ranked class and those who didn’t was equally wide.

  He had witnessed this firsthand when his mother dealt with the issue of Silverpeak’s defenses. She had treated someone who was nominally a knight—a skilled one, if the soldiers’ reactions were anything to go by—as little more than a toddler. He’d been unable to put up any resistance, and she was supposed to be a mere potioneer!

  But still, that was years ago, and although the memory hadn’t dulled, the shock had.

  He was forcefully reminded of it now as he sat in Magistra Eire’s empty study, waiting for news of his fate.

  His frustration over his destroyed research was still there, simmering at a low boil, and Orion doubted it would ever go away. There was something visceral about watching his journal go up in flames that had burned itself into his psyche.

  But despite that, there was also the certainty that no matter how angry he might be, no matter how impressive his stats or intelligence, he could do nothing to escape his fate—whatever the coven decided that to be.

  Though Eire hadn’t done anything to the door, as far as he could tell, she might as well have set another of her stone knights to guard it. The Sanctum was a massive complex, and even if he knew the best route to escape, it would still take him a good twenty minutes to reach the main gate from where he was.

  That was as good as an insurmountable distance. Any witch worth her salt would be able to intercept him before he got out, and even if, by some miracle, he managed to do so, he would have to navigate a treacherous mountain road for many miles before reaching civilization. No, running away was, unfortunately, not in the cards.

  I should have known better. Everything I do seems to make my situation worse. Asteria even warned me to keep my experiments secret, and what did I do? The very next day, I used my new formula in front of everyone.

  He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he had been just a bit slower to react. The severed arm would have reached him, and… No, he didn’t have other choices. It is what it is. I will have to present my case as eloquently as possible and try to appeal to their mercy. I did save the kids, after all. That has to count for something.

  If he managed to get out of this mess, he would have to spend years being cautious. Not even a hint of “heretical thinking” could be seen in his actions until he was finally strong enough to leave.

  It was frustrating, made worse by the tears pricking at his eyes. Damn this childish body. And it will get worse before it gets better.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Before his brooding could deteriorate further, the door finally opened. Orion turned, almost anticipating an inquisition to come barging in, but to his surprise, it was his mother who rushed in instead.

  She didn’t even stop to look at him, immediately grabbing him and pulling him to her chest. Orion blinked in surprise, half-standing from his chair. He had almost expected the woman to rebuke him openly, especially after what she’d done, but from the trembling in her limbs and the stream of reassurances she was muttering into his hair, he was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen.

  Two more people entered the room, but he couldn’t quite look at them from his awkward position. His mother didn’t seem to care, merely pulling him in tighter, as if to shield him from their gazes.

  Eventually, someone cleared their throat, and Asteria had to let him go. It was clear she was reluctant to do so, and despite finally pulling back, she still kept her hand on his arm, as if needing to confirm he was still there. Her eyes scanned his appearance, taking in and cataloging every little crease in his clothes and every misplaced curl of white hair.

  “The boy is fine, Asteria.” A deep voice interrupted, and Orion finally turned to regard the person he was pretty sure would decide his fate.

  He immediately recognized the woman. She was someone frequently seen directing the ceremonies that didn’t require the High Priestess’ direct intervention, and he could vaguely recall seeing her speak with the librarian some time ago.

  If that weren’t enough, her deep plum robes adorned with thousands of tiny sigils would have sufficed to identify her as a Veil Priestess, one of the most powerful individuals within the coven.

  “Elder Morliana is right, Asteria. I have checked Orion myself for injuries, and beyond being exhausted from his casting, he’s unharmed.” Magistra Eire interjected, and Orion had to remember to look contrite. She knew what he had done, having received the memory from the knight. There would be no bluffing with her.

  But what is a Veil Priestess doing here? Is this even worse than I thought?

  His mother didn’t seem intimidated by the two powerful witches in front of her. If anything, she stood taller, stepping forward.

  That gesture alone clearly indicated that she didn’t appreciate being told what she could or couldn’t do with her son.

  “Peace,” Eire sighed, sounding tired, “we are all on high alert, and I’m sure you must be even more stressed, given that the attack started from the Pantry, but you know we are all together in this. There’s no need to be tense with us.”

  “Bah,” Morliana interjected before more could be said, pinning Orion with a hard look. He doubted she was doing anything magical, not in front of the clearly combative Asteria, but he couldn’t help feeling intimidated.

  The woman, though obviously old with her wrinkles and gray hair, was still formidable, and her demeanor radiated disapproval. Although he had never interacted with her directly, it was clear she didn’t like him. “I told you already that the boy was doing something unnatural. No matter how talented you say he is, there is no chance he would have been able to cast a Lightbolt naturally.”

  Suddenly, everything made sense. He had never seen her up close before the other day, but it was clear she knew something about him. And judging by her tone, it wasn’t anything good.

  “Your research has already gathered the attention of dangerous people.” His mother had said to justify herself before burning his journal, and back then, he’d barely paid attention to what it meant.

  Now it was clear that she’d been afraid this woman would take a more active interest in him. She spoke with the librarian, and I’m willing to bet she spoke with Asteria, too. That was probably what made her decide to burn my research.

  It wasn’t enough for him to forgive his mother, but it definitely offered him a fresh perspective. And also made him that much warier.

  “Elder, we’ve discussed this before. I’ve personally assessed the situation and found that Orion has done nothing that could be construed as dangerous, let alone unnatural. He deserves praise for saving the other children, not reprimand for being too talented!” Eire spoke more forcefully, and Morliana finally tore her gaze from him.

  “Yes, how convenient. Just as rumors started to spread about his dangerous ideas, he was put in place to save so many others.” Her tone clearly conveyed her disbelief.

  Orion felt Asteria tense, and a snarl formed on her lips, “Be very careful about what you are implying, Elder.”

  Morliana was not intimidated at all; instead, she seemed to welcome the challenge. “Oho? Has the pup started to grow fangs? Do not think yourself my equal, girls. I have crushed witches ten times your betters.”

  A weight began to build in the air, making Orion’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He couldn’t pinpoint its origin, but he knew, deep down, that the situation had suddenly become a lot more dangerous. Looking at Morliana now felt like watching an impending avalanche. One wrong move, and they’d be buried before they knew it.

  Pressure began to build around his mother, and her eyes started to glow, but before she could respond, Eire shouted, “ENOUGH!”

  The force of her voice was enough to send Orion stumbling back in his chair, and he had to fight the urge to curl up at the overwhelming power she radiated.

  He hadn’t even known he could sense such a thing, and yet he could feel her presence press upon him, threatening to crush him. It lasted a mere instant, but it was enough for his nails to dig into his hands until he drew blood.

  The pressure vanished as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving Orion gasping.

  “Ah, I apologize,” Eire murmured toward him, before turning to the old woman with cold eyes. “Elder, I would thank you to not accuse a Magistra of the coven of such heinous acts without proof, much less to bring such a matter up before her young son. You are here because your position allows you to participate in the proceedings, but I need not remind you that High Priestess Seraphina has already given her consent for this.”

  That last portion, more than anything else, seemed to be what made Morliana retreat. She clicked her tongue before turning around, her robes swishing. “Her Excellency’s will is mine. Honor the kid all you want, but know that I will be keeping an eye out. The coven does not need to steer away from its tradition, especially now that we have come under attack.”

  Before anyone could get another word in, she was gone.

  Silence lingered for a few more seconds before Asteria sighed heavily. She pressed a hand to his cheek, her eyes softening. “I’m sorry you had to see that, moonbeam. I want you to know that I’m proud of you. No matter what others might think, you did the right thing.”

  She then took his hands in hers, gently opening them to reveal bloody tracks, and her lips pursed in regret. She pressed her index finger over the cut flesh, and with a tingle, Orion felt it mend.

  “I must apologize, too, Orion Voidwalker. This was not what I had in mind when I brought you here, especially not after what you did.” His teacher said, bringing his attention back to her.

  She met his gaze directly and bowed deeply, taking him by surprise. “You had to step in to protect the children in my absence because my measures failed. Know that you have my gratitude, and that of the High Priestess herself. If you need my aid at any time in the future, you need only ask.”

  Surprise!