The first time Orion met Set, he didn’t think much of the man. He was helpful and even hinted at a few interesting concepts, using a different approach than most others in the Sanctum.

  But when it came to mysterious old people, he wasn’t exactly above the average. Not when all it took was looking out a window to find a witch capable of turning people into stone with just a word.

  The most interesting thing about him, if Nick were honest, was that he was a man—and not just that, but an old man.

  That wasn’t to say that other males of that age didn’t exist in the Sanctum, but they were quite rare and usually kept to their private lives.

  They were those who had chosen to forgo any trace of personal career and achievements to stay with their loved ones, and in a world where power was measured in cold numbers, that was a substantial burden.

  So, Orion had become curious. At first, he wanted to know whether Set was someone he should be watching out for—one of the many people under Morliana’s influence who kept tabs on him.

  But over the years, he realized that Set never strayed from the library, specifically the first floor. Someone with his knowledge and age should have been allowed to access the second floor, despite being a man, yet he never wandered up.

  Nor did he ever seem to be anywhere but the library. Orion wouldn’t say he was particularly social, but even he had more of a life than Set did.

  Thus, he concluded that the old man was a kindred spirit.

  Oh, not in the development of science. It was unlikely that he even knew what the basic scientific method was, much less how to explain the world using physics.

  But he was someone who loved research and had dedicated his life to understanding. That was worth recognizing.

  Thus, the two—one very young and the other very old—had formed an unusual friendship. Occasionally, Orion would seek Set's advice on reading recommendations in obscure subjects, while at other times, Set would provide insights that Orion couldn’t have obtained elsewhere.

  Today, Orion found his “friend” in the same spot he typically did, concealed behind the osteomancy textbooks at the back of the first floor.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of reading the basics? At this point, you must have memorized the entire first floor,” he said lightly, pulling back a chair and sitting down.

  Set finished his paragraph, marked his place with a bookmark, and finally turned his attention to him. “Already gotten bored with your latest experiment?” He asked, giving his glasses a curious look.

  [Sutekh - Lv. ??] [?? - A-Rank]

  “No, not yet,” Orion replied distractedly, trying to contextualize this new piece of information while doing his best not to hiss at the heat the SDGs were emitting. He already knew that Set—Sutekh, apparently—was not born in the Sanctum and had, in fact, arrived only a little more than a decade ago.

  He’d suspected he was more powerful than he let on. There was an assuredness in his movements, a sense of security, despite living in a place where no one ever spoke to him except for a strange child, which couldn’t have been explained otherwise.

  But A-rank? This is the highest I’ve seen. This means he’s at least tier four.

  Determining what someone so powerful was doing hiding out in the Sanctum’s library would require careful thought, but for now, it didn’t change what he’d come here for.

  “I want to know more about the situation in the east. And about the vampires,” he said after a while.

  “Now, why would you be interested in that? I thought you’d gotten what you wanted from your little excursions. If this is about war coming to Silverpeak, you shouldn’t worry. Not even the elves are arrogant enough to provoke the High Priestess’ wrath so openly.”

  Orion shook his head. “No, it’s because I have heard the vampires have been active in town as of late. Something about a guard being their spy.”

  Set tilted his head, humming. “Well, while an encounter with the blood-drinkers is never pleasant, they aren’t the types to stir the pot excessively. They likely found a weakness and exploited it to remind everyone they are still relevant. From what I’ve heard, they have lost many of their new converts to the Radiant Vigil’s efforts.”

  This, this was why Orion kept returning to Set. It didn’t really matter that it wasn’t his name. Orion would have called him anything just to hear this kind of talk. Unvarnished observations from a man who likely had personal experience with all the major factions were priceless to someone like him, whose knowledge of the outside world only came through the Sanctum’s filters.

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  “So you think this isn’t part of a great plan?” He had been quite curious about the vampires the first time he heard of their existence, enough to start making plans to visit them once he was capable of protecting himself. However, if they were beginning to become more hostile toward humans, especially those from the Sanctum, he would need to change his plans.

  “Oh, when are the vampires ever not making great plans?” Set chuckled. “It’s all that’s left to them. To avoid succumbing to their beastly urges, they cut themselves off from their bodily needs, leaving only the pleasure of a good hunt. That they live long enough for their hunts to become intricate and endlessly complex doesn’t really matter to them.”

  Orion nodded. That aligned with his mother's words, but double-checking was always important. “Very well, thank you for the information. Have you perhaps changed your mind about telling me about the class ceremony? I’m sure I could smuggle something interesting to you through the Inspectors as payment.”

  Seemingly even more amused by how brazenly he had flaunted the Sanctum’s laws, Set shook his head. “No, that is one thing I cannot tell you, I’m afraid. I have been taken in with the understanding that I would respect the rules and will continue doing so.”

  With a sigh, Orion gave up. He had already tried several times, and always received the same response.

  Still, before he left, he had one last question to ask. “If you could travel anywhere in the world in pursuit of greater understanding, where would you go?”

  He deliberately spoke as if he were interested in knowing for himself. He certainly fit the mold of someone thirsty for knowledge, so that wouldn’t be strange. But while he would like to know, he asked the question for a specific reason.

  Set always seemed to be searching for something. Spending every day in the library could hardly be explained otherwise. Thus, for someone as old and experienced as he was, naming a place to learn would be just as good as an admission.

  What is it that you are looking for?

  With a slow blink, Set’s expression grew distant, as if he wasn’t there anymore. “The Arcane Collegium of Valderun has the greatest library in the known world, and the depth of knowledge held by its Archmages surpasses that of every other institution. Anyone interested in learning the truth of this world must visit.”

  His words were spoken with such profound longing that they left Orion speechless.

  He nodded in thanks and made to leave, but Set spoke before he could get away. “There is one thing you can do to learn more about your future class.”

  Orion turned around, surprised.

  “Children usually get a class at least related to one of their parents. While your mother is a great potioneer, knowing what your father does would certainly give you a hint.”

  The Class ceremony was just a few days away, and Orion could barely contain himself. He felt torn between excitement at finally crossing this invisible boundary that had constrained him for his entire second life and anxiety over whether he was ready.

  The glasses were a wonderful creation. They had helped him expand his understanding of the world by leaps and bounds, and he was sure he could use them to glean something from the ritual. But what if it wasn’t enough?

  He had already made the mistake of thinking he was ready more than once. One time, it had even been fatal.

  “You won’t be able to divine anything if you keep glaring at the mirror,” Selene murmured, watching as Madame Jaime assisted another girl in properly attuning herself to the silvery surface.

  “This is a waste of time,” he grunted, though there was no heart in it. Remote viewing was a very promising practice, even if it was considered part of the school of divination.

  The problem was, Orion wasn’t very good with it.

  “Now, let us see what you two have been cooking up. I’m sure there has been improvement from the last time.” their teacher said as she walked by, side-eyeing him.

  Selene, as always, effortlessly chanted the required phrase and activated the mirror. “May the moonlight show us the way.”

  A scene from a fairytale appeared on the smooth surface, depicting a family of little ducks swimming across the expanse of a mountain lake.

  “Oh, wonderful, Selene. That is extremely vivid, and I can see from the sunlight that it is real-time. Very good indeed!” Madame Jaime clapped.

  She then turned to Orion, her face contorted with hesitation, and he almost growled.

  It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t come up with a formula to make the damn mirror work; that had taken him an hour. By simply applying the principles contained within the Shannon capacity theorem C = B?log?(1 + S/N), he could establish the theoretical maximum data throughput for any channel.

  Given that the mirror was clearly receiving some data, it should have worked. He’d even gone so far as to account for noise, since they were meant to display a scene of natural life happening in the nearby mountains; he had considered that there might be an unnatural concentration of mana interfering with his efforts.

  C? = B??log?(1 + S??/?N?) should have provided him with accurate data rates. With that calculated, the spell should have come together seamlessly.

  Instead, what he ended up with was an infuriatingly blank screen.

  It wasn’t even that the spell was failing. The mirror no longer reflected light. Its surface was completely dark, as if it were a television without power.

  Yet, no matter how hard he tried to direct the “live feed,” he couldn’t manage to capture a single image of the distant peak visible from the window.

  “Well, I suppose everyone must have something they are not good at,” Madame Jaime eventually relented, turning away from him and moving to the other kids.

  Orion clenched his fists. It wasn’t that he hated having failed; every good scientist knew that failure was just another way to learn.

  But not having a single idea as to why he was failing... Yes, that really annoyed him. Especially when almost everyone else seemed to have figured it out.

  “Oh, come on, man. You know divination doesn’t really matter. You’re gonna be fine.” Dorian whispered, bumping his shoulder.

  Since he could hardly summon a scene of the Sanctum’s outer gardens, he was also seen as having little talent for the practice.

  And still, Orion fumed. There has to be something I’m missing. I can feel the formula working, but nothing shows up in the mirror!

  He was already frustrated about having to spend his valuable time working on such a pointless skill, but not even being able to do it was just too much.

  In a fit of desperation, Orion turned back to the basics. Maybe I’ve missed something.

  To avoid making a single mistake, he extended the formula far beyond his usual approach, explicitly including every variable, such as the spell’s energy and bandwidth—factors he had long since outgrown needing to calculate manually.

  F_f = (η?E_f?/?D_f)?log? (1 + ζ?E_s?/?N_a) was a monstrosity of a spell form, something that he hadn’t used since his very first forays into magic.

  He focused on it, desperately hoping that it would reveal something. Anything. He even went so far as to change targets, going for something that had been on his mind lately.

  This time, it worked.

  Smooth stone, busy people, and a silver tube protruding from the ground appeared on the mirror’s surface before it suddenly fizzled out. Orion jumped back with a yelp as a shock coursed through his mind and into his body, as if he had touched something forbidden.

  Perhaps selecting a secure military location as his scrying target hadn’t been wise.

  “But I did it,” he smiled, even as the distant sound of a siren echoed through the mountain valleys.