“Are you enjoying the meal, Orion?”

  He hummed, nodding absentmindedly as he tried to figure out why his inspection had failed earlier.

  Well, no, "failed" is not the right word. It's more that it couldn’t decode the data despite connecting correctly.

  Unfortunately, that single use had heated the SDGs enough that he didn’t feel comfortable using them again for now.

  Is this simply a matter of power? I could tell that the elf had a B-rank class, though not which one or the specifics of his level.

  He hadn’t encountered the problem in the Sanctum so far, but that could simply be due to the people he’d tested. By picking random individuals he could observe from the sixth floor, he had yet to lay his eyes upon one of the true powerhouses of the coven.

  Not that he was disappointed; many of the elder witches had proven to be significantly stronger than he had imagined.

  “Try some of this freshwater crab, it’s known to be very soft and almost sweet,” Asteria said, spooning some of the latest course on his plate.

  Orion took a bite, humming to show his appreciation. Besides the elf, the highest-level individual I’ve seen so far is Vespera, who is at level 118.

  Given that he was stuck at level 25 due to his E-rank class, he found himself wondering if there was a one-hundred level limit he could observe with the SDGs.

  They were using his own connection to the System to pull information, so it made sense that they were limited in the same way he was. Will that change when I get a real class? Or will I only be able to see up to a hundred levels forever since I forged them now?

  Unfortunately, answers weren’t forthcoming. He would have to wait to test the glasses more once he had his class, but for now, he had another mystery to unravel.

  The elf hadn’t seemed particularly troubled by the plight of his people. If anything, he seemed like a tourist, indifferent to his surroundings except for the meal he was enjoying.

  But a B-rank class meant power, regardless of whether his inability to discern the specific level was as Orion thought. Actually, now that I think about it, it might be that the limitation is determined by the rank rather than the level. I’ve inspected C-ranks without any issues, but this is the first B-rank I've seen.

  For most, it might have been a semantic difference, considering the outcome was the same; however, Orion didn’t just care about things happening. The reasoning behind them was equally, if not more, important.

  If only I could find another target that I know is stronger than most. The glasses have cooled down enough that I can probably squeeze out another Inspect.

  “Have some of the bread, too. This is made with leppa grain, a hybrid of wheat and barley that has the nuttiness without adding heaviness to the dough.” His mother offered again, looking almost desperate to make conversation.

  They had mostly been quiet during their walk through Silverpeak, with their brief conversation about the refugees streaming north being the only exception. However, this could be excused by the market chaos, which made conversation quite difficult.

  That could not be said of the silence that had enveloped them since they reached the restaurant. It was a beautiful stone and wood building in a style that reminded Orion of the Netherlands, with wide windows that allowed sunlight to pour in.

  They had been quickly ushered to the second floor, where they had a private room reserved in their name, and then the flow of food began.

  Though Orion wasn’t a connoisseur, he could honestly say it was the best meal he’d ever had. Every dish was immaculate, incredibly fresh, and expertly crafted. The crab flavor of the last course was so intense that it nearly felt like eating concentrate.

  And yet, nothing had been sufficient to distract Orion from his thoughts. A great meal was pleasant, to be sure, but science waited for no one, and he had been presented with a wonderful mystery to unravel.

  Still, he reached over and grabbed the button loaf his mother had offered, bringing it to his mouth and already smelling the nutty, buttery aroma it emanated.

  Before he could bite down, though, he stopped.

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  There is someone I know who holds a fairly high position within the Coven, and they are conveniently close by.

  He nearly smacked himself for not thinking about it earlier, but to be fair, he had been operating on very little sleep.

  “Inspect,” he murmured, staring at his mother, and the result made him smile despite the heat the SDGs immediately began emitting. Yes, this was what he needed.

  [Asteria - Lv. ??] [?? - B-Rank]

  “What’s your level?” he asked bluntly, not dismissing the message. The main stress point was the initial connection anyway. Once he had obtained the information, he could keep the glasses active, though it would take longer for them to cool down.

  Asteria startled, clearly not having expected him to finally speak, especially about such a sensitive subject. “What? Orion, you know, asking that is very rude.”

  Still, she didn’t deny him, so he kept staring, waiting to see if she would answer. Perhaps pushing so hard on this made him a bad son, especially since he knew she felt a lot of guilt for what she had done to him.

  But if that made him a bad person, he didn’t care. Orion was interested in the Truth, and anything that brought him closer to it was worth doing.

  Provided that the long-term consequences do not prove detrimental to that pursuit. I’m not going to start cutting up people to find out how they work. I’d be caught and executed long before any such practice could lead me to the Truth.

  Finally, Asteria sighed. She waved a hand at the door, and a shimmer fell over the room. “Better to make sure no one can listen in. I already wanted to speak about a sensitive topic anyway. Might as well do it now.”

  Now more interested, Orion leaned in.

  His mother smiled briefly, as if amused by his sudden interest. “What brought this on anyway? You’ve never seemed to care what your old mother does.”

  Orion rolled his eyes. It would be a cold day in hell before such manipulation worked on him. “I’m close to the Class Ceremony, and I’ve gotten more interested in the topic. And before you ask, no, I haven’t gone up to anyone else to ask them.”

  Asteria closed her mouth and nodded. “That’s good. I understand you enjoy uncovering secrets, but this is a very private matter. You should never ask people their level or class. If it relates to a job, they will share it, and you can trust that the Sanctum is aware of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses should you choose to accept assignments and work with others.”

  Nodding, Orion urged her on. “Yes, I already know that. But you are my mother, so you can tell me.”

  “I am level one hundred and thirty-seven. My class is Moonlit Brewmistress, which is B-rank. Happy now?”

  “Very,” Orion grinned, looking at how the system window had updated itself.

  [Asteria - Lv. 137] [Moonlit Brewmistress - B-Rank]

  That he could now see the information told him several things.

  First, that his mother was much better than he had given her credit for. She firmly belonged in the third tier and could realistically aspire to reach the fourth tier in just a few years. It now made sense why she had been made a Magistra at such a young age.

  Secondly, that the glasses could serve as a truth check. He doubted the data would have been updated if she had lied, though perhaps he should verify that someday to be certain.

  Lastly, that rank wasn’t directly correlated with level. The Initiate class he currently held was an E-rank one, and from what he could gather, most people could expect to rise one rank for every fiftieth level.

  The head cook was a level seventy E-rank. That made sense, considering he had started with an even lesser class than Initiate, advanced to F-rank during his Class ceremony, and eventually reached E-rank through his own efforts.

  Vespera, the first person he’d checked, was a C-rank witch. This aligned with the classic progression. Initiates started at E-rank, advanced to D-rank upon obtaining their first class, and then reached C-rank if they ever crossed the level one hundred boundary.

  But Asteria hadn’t followed the same progression. She was a B-rank at level one hundred and thirty-seven. That meant she either had received a higher tier during the class ceremony or had clawed her way into a greater one when she reached level one hundred.

  Either way, it was impressive. It also told him that things weren’t as neat as he’d initially believed, but that was a positive thing. Messiness simply provided more areas to explore.

  “Yes, that was very useful indeed,” he emphasized. “I’ve been trying to get an idea of what to expect for my ceremony, so this helps. Thanks.”

  Asteria's face was almost pathetically happy. She genuinely seemed pleased to have helped him. In fact, she was wiggling. Wiggling! A woman known as the Magistra of Potionmaking was just one step away from giggling because her son had thanked her.

  Orion ruthlessly suppressed the part of him that wanted to grab her hand and tell her he forgave her.

  “What else did you want to talk about?” He asked eventually, dismissing the Inspect window and giving her his full attention. This little outing had already provided more than enough data for him to continue developing his theories.

  “Ah, yes, that’s right.” She said, quickly composing herself. “It is about our first trip to Silverpeak. You remember how you accompanied me to inspect a military target?”

  Orion nodded after a moment. Yes, he remembered a smug jerk getting his brain fried. Good times.

  “Well, we finally found out who was behind the accident,” she revealed with a satisfied expression. “There was an active cell of spies from the Twilight Hordes that had been trying to get their hands on Silverpeak’s defenses. It took a long time to find them all because vampiric hypnosis is extremely difficult to undo, and some of the people involved had no idea what they were doing. But we’re pretty sure we got them all. The final trial will start in just a few weeks.”

  Blinking in surprise, Orion processed the flood of information. “The Twilight Hordes is mostly made up of vampire clans, right? Why would they set up a sleeper cell here when they are on the other end of Cyril?”

  “Why do vampires do anything?” Asteria asked laconically. “They have a morbid need to control everything, and that’s even worse when it comes to us. Light magic is a hard counter to who they are, even more than it is to Dark magic. If they can create trouble for us for years at the cost of slightly higher taxes once we present our findings to the High Council in Valderun, they will take it every day of the week. It’s not like they produce much anyway.”

  I’m still struggling to understand why an immortal race would expend so much effort setting up plots to weaken the secondary defenses of a town that isn’t even the Sanctum. If she had told me they were behind the ghoul attack, I would have been much more understanding, but this feels like a waste of time and resources. Well, maybe not time. They have that in spades, even if I’m doubtful about the claim of true immortality.

  “No relation with the ghoul?” He tried.

  Asteria shook her head, “No, we still haven’t found anything on that. Every scrying attempt got stopped, and by now, it’s far too late to follow the trail. If the High Priestess has any idea of who’s behind it, she hasn’t said anything.”

  A moment of silence passed before a knock echoed at the door. Asteria waved her hand, dismissing her spell, and opened it in one fluid motion.

  “Magistra, young lord. Would you be interested in dessert? Our chef has prepared some winterfruit sherbet that is to die for,” a server asked, and Orion returned to his thoughts.

  If the vampires are doing this without a real reason, then I need to adjust my plans. I will still leave once I’m finished with my education, but I’ll need to be better prepared for this kind of danger.

  It was time to see the one person he knew would gladly provide assistance.