{ TWO MONTHS LATER... }

  The day after finding the Mathematics book, Mirac, calmer and more posed, had allowed himself some time to think more clearly about what he had discovered.

  Among the various hypotheses that had crossed his mind, oood out as particurly curious: what if this Dave Arangot, sidering the four hundred years that had passed, was actually a native of this "fantasy" world? Perhaps, after dying here, he had reinated in the "normal" world, lived a new life, and then bee Vector's father.

  As fasating as it was, that theory had been immediately dismissed.

  On further refleirac realized it couldn't be possible.

  After all, how could Dave Arangot introduce advanced mathematical knowledge belonging to the "normal" world without having lived there first?

  The logic didn't hold, so Mirac had to discard that hypothesis as well.

  It was then that another possibility had crossed his mind: what if, iy, Dave Arangot had died in the "fantasy" world, reinated in the "normal" world, and after dying agaiuro his supposed inal world—the "fantasy" one—bringing with him the mathematical knowledge he had acquired in his sed life?

  A double reination might expin some discrepancies, but the idea didirely vince him.

  After all, this series of hypotheses would have been pusible only if the timelines of the two worlds were misaligned or of a different nature. Alternatively, if reination in the “fantasy” world always occurred with a g of several years into the past pared to the “normal” world. Su expnation could have justified the 400-year differeweeor’s reination and that of his alleged “father.”

  However, sihis did not happen to Vector, the possibilities narrowed: either his father had indeed reinated into the past for a very specific reason, or reination into the past was the result of a random seleeism involving all reinated individuals.

  Yet, even accepting these hypotheses as true, a fual unanswered question remained: why would his “father” have kept exactly the same name in every ination?

  Furthermore, even now, Mirac couldn’t shake the thought that the matter might not actually his “father” at all: in fact, what if it hadn’t been “Dave Arangot” who had reinated into the past, but Mirac himself who had done so into the “future”?

  Indeed, he couldn’t dismiss the idea that he had been the oo reinate into the “fantasy” world years after his owh, rather than his “father” years before his murder.

  However, if that were truly the case, what expnation could there be for this supposed dey in his reination?

  Who or what was lurking behind this whole mysterious affair, maniputing reinations at will?

  In the end, uo reach a satisfactory expnation, Mirac decided to postpone any further iigation until he was older. Only then, free to adepely and equipped with crete means to search for answers, would he address the matter. For now, dwelling oheories seemed to him like a waste of time and energy.

  But setting that aside, Mirac had learned many other things!

  His historical and geographical knowledge of the Kingdom of Ardorya had begun to sprout in his mind.

  Not surprisingly, he loved spending whole hours studying the history of the kingdoms, past and present alliances, and daydreaming about unexplored nds. Although there were, of course, still many gaps in his knowledge, he felt he had id a solid foundation for his future learning.

  The "iation" lessons, oher hand, were slowly teag him the subtle art of formal nguage, granting him the elegand ing expected of a prince. However, mastering this art required stant and demanding practice.

  Exercises based on formal phrases and simuted dialogues had helped him improve his trol of words and develop a touch of refi in his expression. While he still felt somewhat awkward iain situations, he leased to notice small improvements, such as the ability to dis when it was better to speak or remain silent.

  As for the ti's Language, in Vi's eyes, Mirac had almost entirely learo read and write fluently.

  However, the young Prince made sure his improvement appeared gradual and natural, avoiding suspi that might arise from learning the nguage too quickly. To this end, he sometimes, with a certain effort of self-trol, deliberately ied a few simple mistakes into his writings: a wroer here, a disjointed sentehere.

  When this happened, Mirac watched Vi closely as he corrected him, noting how the tutor would raise an eyebrow with a friendly yet slightly awkward expression.

  But during all this time, the real challenge had been Math!

  Although he obviously despised it, he couldn't afford to ig, as doing so would risk making a terrible impression on his father!

  And so, although annoyed by having to study it, Mirac had learhe numerical structures necessary to he numbers: hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, and so on.

  As a result, within a few weeks, mastering the various numerical scales and fully uanding the system that ects them, he had learo t up to a million!

  Just two months earlier, su achievement had seemed utterly unattaio Vector. Yet, without showing any i or enthusiasm for the milestohe "young old man" had aplished it.

  Meanwhile, as his ting ability gradually improved, his nights were always apanied by the same dream: the starry sky sending him written messages in white, inf him that his Range in the skill "Instant ting" was growing, advang in tandem with the numbers he learo t.

  [ Current Range of "Instant ting": 0 → 100 ]

  [ Current Range of "Instant ting": 0 → 1000 ]

  [ Current Range of "Instant ting": 0 → 10 000 ]

  From this, Mirac had deduced that the Range of his ability expanded every time he learo t rger numbers.

  In fact, the Range of the ability had bee incredibly vast, reag the extraordinary figure of one million!

  [ Current Range of "Instant ting": 0 → 1 000 000 ]

  Seeing this, a question had arisen spontaneously in his mind: was there or not a limit to this ability of his?

  Moreover, if learning to t had granted him the skill "Instant ting", did that mean that, by tinuing to study Math, he would acquire other powers iure?

  And if so, whies exactly?

  As he reflected on this progress, Mirac briefly lost himself staring out the window. The sery, with its trees swaying in the breeze and distant hills, seemed so calm pared to the iurmoil he felt.

  'Two-hundred-eighty-five-thousand-four-huwenty-three leaves... Wait, this works even from this distance?! Incredib-!' he was about to excim, but he stopped himself before finishing the sentence. 'No, well, I mean... Iing! Very iing! That's all...'

  On that June m, Vi was bent over the chalkboard, finishing writing some math exercises to assign to Mirac. He was focused, one hand absently scratg his while the other moved the chalk across the board.

  Suddenly, a light kno the door broke the silehe ge firm sound made Vi spin around, while Mirac barely gnced in the dire of the door.

  It opened, and Carmeered with a bow that didn't disturb the bance of the silver tray she carried in her hands. On it, as was the daily routine during lessons, sat a steaming cup of coffee for Vi.

  Her movements were fluid and almost graceful as she approached with her head slightly lowered, radiating an air of calm and respectful cordiality.

  "Oh, Carmen! T-Thank you s-so much," Vi stammered, stepping forward to take the cup.

  In doing so, however, his usual clumsiness got the better of him.

  He took an unsteady step and nearly stumbled over nothing. Though he mao maintain his bance, in his attempt to grab the cup, he spilled a few drops of coffee onto Carmen's maid uniform.

  "Oh no! Did you burn yourself? I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" Vi excimed, his expression a mix of pure embarrassment and worry.

  His hands, still dusted with white chalk, instinctively moved closer to try and the coffee stain, but only made things worse, leaving streaks of chalk on the dark fabric.

  "Damn it! I-I'm so sain, Carmen…"

  Carmen, though the coffee was undoubtedly hot, remained unbothered, her usual posed expression unged.

  "Don't worry, Professor Shirkenn. It's nothing serious," she said, trying to reassure him.

  Vi, deeply mortified, awkwardly bowed in apology.

  "I'm truly so sorry, Carmen… I'm just so clumsy!"

  "I assure you, Professor, it's no problem at all. Nothing serious has happened," Carmen replied calmly, as she pced the half-full cup of coffee on the desk. "Rather, please be careful not to drop ysses. I wouldn't want them to break because of me," she added with a faint smile, stepping closer to gently adjust his gsses with a light tou the bridge.

  When he had tripped earlier, in fact, his gsses had almost fallen off his nose.

  "Th-Thank you…" Vi stammered, as usual.

  With a slight, elegant bow, both respectful and poised, Carmen turned ahe room.

  Vi stood still for a moment.

  A deep sigh escaped his lips, followed by a nervous chuckle. He muttered something under his breath, indistinct words that Mirac, seated farther away, couldn't quite catbsp;

  Finally, with anh, Viried to free himself from the disfort that was gripping him.

  With o g the door, he turned back to the chalkboard. His movements were a bit hesitant, but with determination, he resumed writing exercises for Mirac, fog on eaumber as though those chalk marks could help him fet the i.

  A mier, Vi set the chalk down on the shelf beh the board and briefly examined what he had written. Then, clearing his throat with a soft cough, he spoke:

  "Here you are, young Prince. Five exercises in which you'll o write the numbers in words and vice versa, to be done during this hour. I'll let you try on your own. If you need any help, please don't hesitate to ask me."

  His smile was tentative, almost as if he was trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite the disfort still lingering over him.

  With an awkward motiouro his desk. The wooden chair creaked slightly as he sat down, and Vi began flipping through some notebooks, correg assigs Mirac had submitted a few days earlier.

  Meanwhile, Mirac started ly copying the exercises into his notebook, carefully aligning each digit within a square. His hands moved steadily, but his thoughts wandered elsewhere, lost in a whirlwind of ideas that had nothing to do with the numbers before him.

  For a moment, he lifted his gaze from the notebook and, to his surprise, found Vi already looking at him.

  The tter, after a slight start, gave him a warm smile.

  Mirac, almost instinctively, returhe smile.

  And in that brief exge of friendly gnces, a thought flitted through the young Prince's mind:

  ‘You are a really terrible actor, Professor Shirkenn…’