The heavy door creaked open, breaking the quiet stillness of the room. Fleur stepped inside, letting a slip of warm hallway light stream across the floorboards.
"Oh, brother. You're awake?" she asked softly.
Arthur let out a slow, quiet breath, the tension lingering in his shoulders easing a fraction as he recognized her face. "Where were you?"
"Just stepped out for a moment," Fleur replied, closing the door behind her. Her eyes shifted, falling onto the open volume resting in Arthur's lap. A small, playful smile tugged at her lips. "What's this? Reading again? You really are an incurable bookworm, brother. Or... are you actually studying for your upcoming exams?"
Books, huh? Arthur glanced down at the dense, yellowed pages beneath his fingers. So the original Arthur was a bookworm. The surrounding shelves were stacked with thick volumes on regional histories, political treatises, and forgotten dynasties. He was genuinely passionate about this stuff.
Then the weight of her final word landed.
Wait.What did she just say?
A sudden chill prickled at the back of Arthur's neck, and his throat went completely dry. Forcing a stiff, strained smile onto his face, he looked up. "Umm... Fleur. Did you say... 'exam'?"
"Yeah, your university final exams in two weeks," Fleur said, tilting her head slightly as she observed him. "Wait—you didn't forget, did you?"
A heavy stillness settled in the room.
"O-of course not," Arthur stammered, trying desperately to sound nonchalant. "Why would I forget something as... vital as that?"
He quickly turned his attention back to the open book, pretending to be utterly absorbed in the text, though the letters blurred into meaningless ink slashes before his eyes.
Inside, panic was hammering against his ribs.
What in the world? Isn't university one of those torture institutions where they try to kill you by making you sit through unimaginably boring lectures, and if you somehow manage to survive and make it through, all you are left with is a lifelong debt that you are expected to pay with a job that you may or may not get? And in actuality, those who get the jobs are either the top 2% geniuses in the country or those who are rich from the beginning, either through parental wealth or family heritage and pre-established necessary connections? And even if you decide to learn something new, like chasing your aspirations that coordinate with your creativity, it will be too late to do so by the time you graduate, as the years of life that desire creativity the most have already passed. Not to mention all the stress, depression, and missed opportunities of spending time with your family, friends, and loved ones.
And now I have two weeks to pass finals for a degree I haven't studied a single day for?
No. Stop. Calm down, Arthur. Breathe.
He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, measured breath through his nose before exhaling slowly to center his frantic thoughts.
Across the room, Fleur tilted her head, watching her brother's sudden meditative ritual with quiet curiosity. Sensing the heavy veil of deep thought that had suddenly fallen over him, she decided to hold her tongue, quietly letting him wrestle with his books.
Arthur continued his train of thought, the reality of his situation sinking in deeper with every passing second.
First of all, I never even went to elementary school. How am I supposed to pass a university exam? Think, Arthur, think.
He pressed his thumb against his chin, closing his eyes as his brow furrowed in a posture that felt almost childishly desperate. He ran through a dozen frantic possibilities—cheating, faking an illness, running away—before arriving at a surprisingly simple conclusion:
Screw it.
Failure was practically guaranteed anyway, so what was the point of giving himself an ulcer over it? Besides, it was just a stupid exam. As a wise person back in his old world once said, 'A single sheet of paper can't decide my future.'
Across the small room, Fleur walked over to the bed and began smoothing out the rumpled sheets. The soft rustle of the coarse fabric filled the quiet air. When she spoke, her voice came out softer than before, carrying a faint, tender warmth.
"I'm glad you didn't forget. It would have been terrible if you did," she said quietly. "Our whole reason for coming to this city and enduring all this daily hardship was for this moment. You've been studying for so long, brother. Every night, I'd wake up and see you sitting quietly at your desk under the lamp. You worked so hard... for me, and for us."
She gently fluffed his pillow, her voice dipping slightly lower. "You always said, 'Once I graduate and get a job, our lives will finally get better. I promise.' But... please don't push yourself too hard, brother. You don't have to burden yourself with the responsibility of my future. I'll be fine. As long as I have you, I'll be alright."
Arthur went dead silent.
A heavy realization settled in his chest. In his past life as Shin, he had always been the one leaning on others, letting life drift past while someone else picked up the pieces. But here, his failures wouldn't belong to him alone—they would spill directly onto the person who relied on him most. He wasn't a bystander anymore; he was the one holding the responsibility.
He watched Fleur's small, slender hands as she finished tucking in the blankets. Up close, he could see faint calluses and tiny, faded bruises scattered across her knuckles—marks of the hard labor she took on without complaint. Yet when she looked back at him, a faint, tender smile rested on her lips.
Despite the constant struggle, she still smiled. She genuinely believed in her brother. Even though she insisted he shouldn't worry about her, a quiet corner of her heart clearly clung to that promise, hoping he could lead them to a better life. And yet she hid that burden away, refusing to let her expectations weigh him down.
Knowing that made Arthur's chest ache.
Am I really going to be an incompetent loser wherever I go?
"Fleur," he called out weakly.
Fleur paused mid-motion, turning back to him with the pillow cradled in her arms.
A wave of dread washed over Arthur, knowing how easily her fragile hope would shatter once the exam results came out. Normally, the sheer weight of that anxiety would have left him choking on his words.
Yet, strangely, beneath the grief, a deep and steady calm settled in his chest. It was a bizarre feeling—unfamiliar, yet oddly nostalgic, as if some buried part of his soul had faced hopeless odds a thousand times before.
His expression shifted, dropping the childish panic for a gravity far beyond his years. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unshakeable weight of conviction as he looked straight into her eyes.
"Fleur... I promise you, even if I were to fail this test and every test after it, and even if I fail to achieve anything at first... I will never give up. I will always keep striving for a better life. A life away from all this hardship. For you, and for us."
Fleur's eyes widened as she caught the sudden, clear intensity burning in his gaze. A shimmer of tears welled up at the corners of her eyes.
Then, a wide, radiant smile broke across her face.
"I know..." she whispered softly, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "Because that's always the kind of person you are."
A quiet, tender moment lingered between them, the lingering gloom in the room softening into something warm and hopeful.
Suddenly, the brassy chime of the wall clock burst through the quiet, shattering the tender atmosphere.
Both of them flinched, their eyes darting toward the clock ticking above the doorframe. It was 11:00 AM.
"Ah! I gotta hurry! I'm going to be late for school!"
Fleur's emotional expression vanished instantly, replaced by sheer panic. She frantically finished tucking in the corner of the bed sheet and snatched up her worn-down red schoolbag resting against the bedpost—its red fabric faded from years of use, straps visibly frayed at the edges.
She swung it over her shoulder and practically sprinted toward the door. Just before bursting into the hallway, she spun around on her heel, pointing a stern finger at him.
"I'm leaving now! Don't do anything reckless while I'm gone. And don't you dare try to do any kind of heavy lifting—and no going outside!" she warned loudly.
Before Arthur could even open his mouth to respond, she slipped through the doorway and slammed the door shut behind her, her rapid footsteps echoing down the corridor until silence reclaimed the small room.
What are you, my mom? Arthur thought with an amused shake of his head, a faint, dry smirk touching his lips.
Once the quiet settled back around him, Arthur leaned back against his pillow and redirected his attention to the dense, heavy volume resting in his lap. He ran a thumb along the coarse edge of the yellowed pages.
Anyway, this 'Arche' concept is genuinely fascinating.
According to the dense, formal text in the book, as long as a person possesses deep, fundamental knowledge of a specific field, they can manipulate its elements on a microscopic level—producing actions that closely resemble magic.
He paused, recalling the scattered instances where he had witnessed supernatural abilities in this world. Even the eerie, overwhelming power displayed by the vampires fit into this framework.
So the power that Jasper used... was that Arche as well?
Curiosity sparked anew in his chest. Arthur pulled the heavy book a little closer under the ambient light, settling in to devour the text line by line.
The Nine Tiers of Arche
On the measurement of knowledge and its practical consequence
A tier is not a reward. It is a diagnosis.
It describes, as precisely as language allows, how deeply a practitioner has come to understand their chosen branch — and therefore what they are capable of doing with that understanding. Tiers are not awarded by academies, conferred by rank, or inherited through family. They are assessed periodically by a licensed Tier Examiner whose only function is to determine what a practitioner can actually do and why — and to record the result honestly, regardless of what the practitioner or their employer would prefer the result to be.
Nine tiers exist. Most practitioners will see three or four. The following is what each one means.
Tier 1: Hollow
The practitioner has made first contact with the Undercript in their chosen branch. They perceive the domain beneath its surface. They cannot yet act on what they perceive with any consistency — their effects are small, slow to produce, and frequently fail under pressure. A T1 practitioner is not yet useful in any professional context. They are, however, no longer ordinary. The door is open. What they do with that fact is entirely their own concern.
Tier 2: Seeker
The practitioner can produce consistent, repeatable effects at a basic level. The word consistent is important here — a T2 practitioner does not sometimes manage their branch application. They manage it reliably enough to be professionally deployable in roles that require a low threshold of output. Combat Medics, entry-level ward physicians, basic Arche support roles — these are T2 postings. The knowledge is real. The depth is limited.
Tier 3: Carved
The point at which the Brithenian military, most civic institutions, and the majority of licensed employers consider a practitioner genuinely useful. A T3 Archon has enough understanding of their branch to apply it under pressure, adapt to unexpected conditions, and produce effects that a non-Archon cannot approximate. Most practitioners who enter a branch career plateau somewhere between T2 and T3 and remain there for the rest of their professional lives. This is not failure. T3 is the backbone of every institution that uses Arche in Brithenia.
Tier 4: Theorem
Named after the act of proving a thing from first principles. A Theorem understands the mechanistic level — the forces and interactions underneath the molecular layer. This is the first tier where lateral thinking emerges. Knowledge begins to branch into adjacent domains. Considered the first tier of genuinely dangerous Archons.
Tier 5: Lorebound
A domain master — not of a single substance but of an entire category of reality. Their knowledge is so thorough that it flows like instinct. Where a Seeker needs minutes, a Lorebound needs seconds. They begin to understand countering — disrupting another Archon's work mid-execution.
They do not read the blueprint. They are the blueprint.
…
And the book goes on to speak about 4 more tiers.
Urgh, my brain hurts from all this information.
Arthur moves on to the next chapter.
CHAPTER TWO — ON SKILLS
What they are, what they are not, and why the distinction matters
A skill is a named, documented application of branch knowledge at a specific tier of understanding.
The naming is important. When the academies refer to a skill by name — Water Gun, Wound Close, Signal Interrupt — they are not referring to a technique in the way a swordsman refers to a stance. They are referring to a threshold of understanding. The name is shorthand for a specific depth of comprehension that produces a specific category of result reliably and repeatedly. Two practitioners performing the same named skill at the same tier will produce the same class of effect. They may produce it differently — through different internal reasoning, different Undercript approaches, different sequences of understanding — but the outcome belongs to the same category because the underlying knowledge is the same.
This is why skills cannot be taught by demonstration alone. Watching a practitioner perform Water Gun at T3 does not tell you how to perform Water Gun at T3. It tells you what T3 Water Gun looks like from the outside. The inside is the entire problem.
What skills actually represent is a map. The academies have spent centuries documenting what practitioners can do at each tier of each branch — not to tell students what to do, but to tell them what doing it will feel like when they have understood enough to arrive there naturally. A skill description is a destination described in advance. The journey to it is entirely the student's own.
THE SKILL TYPE SYSTEM
Every skill carries one or more type tags that describe what it does functionally. Multiple tags on a single skill mean it serves multiple purposes simultaneously. When a skill has two type tags, the first is its primary function.
The Fifteen Types
[STR] STRIKE — Direct offensive skills targeting a specific subject. Deals damage, applies force, or disrupts the target physically at a defined point.
[SRG] SURGE — Explosive burst skills with high output concentrated into a brief window. High cost, high impact, short duration. Cannot be sustained.
[FLD] FIELD — Area-affecting skills that create environmental conditions or phenomena over a defined zone rather than targeting a specific point.
[BND] BIND — Skills that restrict, immobilize, entrap, or limit targets in their movement, ability, or options.
[SNS] SENSE — Perception, detection, analysis, and information-gathering skills. Non-offensive but often the most strategically valuable type.
[MND] MEND — Healing, restoration, repair, and biological or material maintenance skills.
[FRG] FORGE — Creating, synthesizing, constructing, or producing something new from available raw materials or ambient substances.
[WRD] WARD — Defensive, protective, and damage-mitigation skills designed to shield the Archon or a designated target.
[SHR] SHROUD — Concealment, stealth, misdirection, and deception skills. Makes something harder to detect, identify, or accurately target.
[SVR] SEVER — Dissolution, decomposition, cutting, and targeted destruction of specific materials, structures, or biological properties.
[ANC] ANCHOR — Stabilization, locking, and fixing things in a defined state against external change or natural decay.
[INF] INFUSE — Enhancement, augmentation, and empowering of objects, substances, or biological systems beyond their natural state.
[DRF] DRIFT — Movement, displacement, acceleration, and spatial repositioning of things or people.
[ECH] ECHO — Skills that interact with, disrupt, counter, read, or reflect other Arche skills and their active effects.
[PLS] PULSE — Continuous, sustained, rhythmic, or repeating-wave effect skills that operate over time rather than in a single application.
Tier Progression Principles
Each tier upgrade within a skill represents deeper understanding of the underlying physics. The improvements follow a consistent pattern across all branches:
Range Typically increases with tier — affecting more targets or operating over greater distance.
Cost Decreases as understanding grows — higher tiers are more efficient, not just more powerful.
Precision Increases dramatically — higher tiers can achieve effects that lower tiers produce imprecisely.
Speed: Execution time drops with each tier — instinct replaces deliberate calculation.
Secondary Effects become available — deeper understanding reveals adjacent possibilities within the same skill.
A skill's ceiling is determined by the physics of the phenomenon it operates on — not by the Archon's tier. Some phenomena yield to deeper understanding indefinitely. Others exhaust their depth quickly. The ceiling is always set by what the science can give, not by arbitrary design limits.
CHAPTER THREE — ON BRANCHES
The architecture of Arche knowledge and why it matters that you choose
Arche knowledge is not uniform. It is not a single body of understanding that a practitioner deepens in all directions simultaneously. It is structured — divided into branches, each representing a distinct domain of the physical world, each requiring a completely different category of comprehension to enter and develop.
At the time of this edition's publication, academies across Brithenia recognise twenty-seven standard branches — domains of Arche knowledge that have been sufficiently explored, documented, and understood to support formal instruction, structured examination, and reliable tier assessment. Twenty-seven represents the current state of documented understanding, not a final count. New branches have been identified before, and the record suggests they will be identified again.
Each branch emerged from the same process: a practitioner with an unusual depth of perception in a specific domain pushed their understanding far enough to produce effects that no existing branch framework could account for. The academic community investigated, documented, and eventually formalised the new domain. Thermal branched from early fire-observation. Biological emerged from practitioners who perceived not the body's visible behavior but the chemistry beneath it. Electromagnetic was formalised only when the effects being produced could no longer be attributed to known branches without significant intellectual dishonesty.
This process — observation, documentation, formalisation — is slow. It requires practitioners who are willing to work at the edge of what is understood, and academics who are honest enough to admit when something does not fit existing categories. Twenty-seven standard branches is therefore not a ceiling. It is a current count.
ON CHOOSING A BRANCH
The student will be advised, at some point by someone with their best interests at heart, to select one branch and commit to it entirely. This Codex offers the same advice, and offers it without softening.
A practitioner who divides their attention between branches does not develop two competencies. They develop two stunted ones. The Underscript does not reward breadth. It rewards depth. A practitioner of moderate T3 in two branches will, in almost every scenario that matters, be outperformed by a practitioner of genuine T4 in one. The gap between those tiers is not a gap in technique. It is a gap in understanding — and understanding compounds. Every additional layer of comprehension in a single domain makes the next layer more accessible, more natural, and more quickly achieved. A practitioner who splits their attention cuts this compounding short in both directions simultaneously.
There is a reason the academies teach this with a proverb rather than an argument: a man who chases two rabbits catches neither. The proverb is not elegant. It does not need to be. It needs to be remembered.
There are documented cases of practitioners who have developed genuine competency across multiple branches. They exist. They are exceptional without exception — individuals whose capacity for the depth of understanding required by the UnderScript is, for reasons the academies cannot fully explain, simply greater than is typical. They are not evidence that splitting attention is wise. They are evidence that certain individuals are not constrained by what is typical. The student reading this should not assume they are one of those individuals. They should assume they are not, commit to a single branch, and revise that assumption if the evidence warrants it later. The evidence will make itself clear.
A NOTE ON UNIQUE BRANCHES
Beyond the twenty-seven standard branches exists a separate category that the academies classify as Unique — a term chosen deliberately for its lack of precision, because precision is not yet available.
What is known about Unique branches is limited and should be stated honestly as such. They operate on domains of the physical world that are more fundamental than those covered by standard branches — not materials, not chemistry, not biological systems, but the underlying forces and principles that govern all of those things simultaneously. The distinction is difficult to articulate clearly because the understanding required to articulate it precisely is itself part of what makes these branches Unique.
What is also known, and more practically relevant, is this: advancement through a Unique branch is significantly more difficult than advancement through any standard branch. The reason is straightforward. Standard branches have centuries of documented knowledge behind them — recorded insights, identified thresholds, named skills that tell a practitioner what understanding looks like at each tier. A student of the Thermal branch is not working in the dark. They are following a path that many have walked before them and documented carefully.
A practitioner of a Unique branch has almost none of this. The documented knowledge is sparse, inconsistently recorded, and frequently incomplete in ways the documentation itself does not acknowledge. Advancing a tier in a Unique branch requires the practitioner to develop understanding that the existing record cannot reliably guide them toward. They are, in a meaningful sense, doing original work simply by existing in the branch. This is as difficult as it sounds.
This Codex does not enumerate the Unique branches, their number, or their individual domains. The category is still being actively investigated, and the academies do not consider the current record stable enough to formalise in an instructional text. What is recorded here today may require significant revision before this edition's successor is printed.
A NOTE ON FORBIDDEN BRANCHES
There is a final category. It will receive no elaboration here.
Certain domains of Arche knowledge have been classified as Forbidden by the Dual Council and placed under permanent legislative prohibition. Practitioners identified as operating within a Forbidden branch are not examined, not counselled, and not offered the opportunity to discontinue. They are arrested, tried, and sentenced under the severest provisions available in Brithenian law — provisions that exist precisely because the Council determined, at the time of classification, that the standard criminal code was not a sufficient deterrent for what it was being asked to deter.
This Codex will not describe what Forbidden branches do, how they are entered, or what distinguishes them from branches that are permitted. That information does not belong in an instructional text. It belongs in sealed court records.
What a student needs to know is this: Forbidden branch practice is not a grey area, not a matter of intent, and not subject to mitigating circumstances. It is treated as a category of harm unto itself, separate from whatever specific acts were committed using it. Practitioners have argued, in court, that their intent was research. That their methods were controlled. That the results were beneficial. The Council's position on these arguments has not changed since the classification was first established, and it will not change.
The Cogguard does not distinguish between the deliberate practitioner and the curious one. The law does not ask what you intended. It asks what branch you were in.
Do not pursue Forbidden branches. Not out of fear, though fear is a rational response. Out of the understanding that certain doors are closed because of what was found on the other side of them, and the people who found it were not warning you carelessly.
Arthur leaned back and turned it over in his head.
So. Deep enough understanding of a specific area of physics lets you affect that area at a level too small for ordinary senses to reach. That ability is called Arche. The person doing it is an Archon. Simple enough.
An Archon sits somewhere on a scale of one to nine — their tier — which is just a measure of how deeply they understand their branch. Not a rank someone gives you. A measurement of what you actually know.
Branches are how that knowledge gets organised. Someone, at some point, looked at everything there was to understand about the physical world and divided it into categories — water, heat, the body, electricity, and so on. Twenty-seven of them, currently. Each category is a branch. Each branch belongs to an Archon who chose it and went as deep into it as they could manage.
Inside each branch are skills. A skill is just a name for what understanding at a specific depth actually lets you do. The deeper the understanding required, the higher the tier of the skill. Some skills start from tier one and build upward. Others don't become accessible until tier four or five — because the understanding required to perform even the most basic version of that skill is already advanced.
As for using them — an Archon can only use the versions of a skill that fall within their current tier or below. A tier two Archon can use the tier one and tier two versions of a skill. Not the tier three. Because the understanding isn't there yet. The skill is just the consequence of the knowledge. No knowledge, no skill. That's all there is to it.
Arthur glanced at the page again.
Straightforward enough. Annoying, but straightforward.
Should I try using a skill? Are there any practical skill guides in this book?
Arthur immediately began to look for a chapter that gives practical instructions on how to use a skill.
Found it!
The book read :
CHAPTER SIX — AQUATIC BRANCH
Practical Instruction — First Application
WATER GUN
Classification: [STR] — Tier 2 entry point
Domain prerequisite: basic molecular awareness of water's bonding structure
Before attempting the following, the student must have already achieved Underscript Perception in the Aquatic branch — meaning they can perceive water at the molecular level rather than simply as a liquid. If the student cannot close their eyes, locate the nearest source of moisture, and describe the direction it is moving, they are not ready for this chapter. Attempting practical application before perception is stable is not ambitious. It is a waste of time.
WHAT YOU ARE DOING
Atmospheric air contains water — not visible water, but hydrogen and oxygen molecules already present in the humidity around you. At T2 you are not producing water from nothing. You are pulling hydrogen and oxygen from the air and bonding them at their natural angle — 104.5 degrees between the two hydrogen atoms — to produce liquid water at the point of your choosing, then directing it outward.
Understand this precisely: you are not moving water that exists. You are assembling it where it did not previously exist as a liquid and then applying force. Both steps require your attention simultaneously. Most first attempts fail because the student focuses on one and neglects the other.
PRACTICAL INSTRUCTIONS
Step one. Extend your Underscript Perception outward into the air around you. Do not reach for visible moisture — reach for the ambient humidity. Feel the individual water molecules suspended in the air as separate from the nitrogen and oxygen carrying them. This perception should feel like finding individual threads within a piece of fabric rather than seeing the fabric as a single surface.
Step two. Select a point approximately one arm's length in front of you. Do not select a point further than this on your first attempt. Begin drawing the moisture threads toward that point — not all at once, not with urgency. The bonding process cannot be rushed without producing unstable molecular arrangements that simply fall apart before they become liquid.
Step three. At the collection point, coax the assembled molecules into their bonded configuration. This is the step most students describe as the most difficult to explain to someone who has not experienced it — the Underscript perception of a water molecule's shape is not the same as visual imagination of it. You must perceive the bond angle, not picture it. If you are picturing it, you are using the wrong part of your attention.
Step four. Once a small volume of liquid water has formed at the collection point — even a few drops — apply directional force outward along your chosen axis. At T2, this force will be modest. The stream will be unfocused. This is expected. The goal of the T2 application is not power. It is confirmation that all four steps occurred in the correct sequence.
WHAT FAILURE LOOKS LIKE
The most common failure mode is a fine mist rather than a stream — this indicates the student is collecting humidity correctly but failing to sustain the bonding configuration long enough for liquid volume to accumulate. Slow the collection phase. Do not attempt the directional step until the liquid exists.
The second most common failure mode is no output at all despite the student's certainty that something happened. This almost always indicates that the Undercript perception shifted from the molecular level back to ordinary perception at some point during the attempt without the student noticing. The Undercript engagement must be continuous from step one through step four. Dropping it even briefly resets the process.
A NOTE ON ENERGY COST
T2 Water Gun is expensive relative to its output. The student will find this discouraging. This is appropriate. The expense exists because the student does not yet understand water's molecular polarity — the slightly negative charge at the oxygen end, the slightly positive charge at the hydrogen ends — which is what allows water to hold itself together efficiently in a coherent stream. That understanding is the difference between T2 and T3. When the student understands polarity, the stream stops requiring active effort to maintain coherence. Until then, the student is holding it together personally, which costs exactly as much effort as it sounds like it does.
Do the exercise. Notice the cost. Ask yourself why it costs what it costs. The answer to that question is the first step toward T3.
Umm. So even a practical learning skill requires you to have knowledge of the aquatic branch at least at tier 2. Trying to skip through steps could be dangerous.
Is there any other book here on the aquatic branch?
Arthur carefully inspected each book, but there was no dedicated book on the aquatic branch. The on the right corner of the table arthur noticed some sort of card. He picked it up.
It was a small rectangular thing, about the size of two fingers side by side, made from a stiff pale card stock with a slight iridescent quality to it. On its face: his name, a member number, a registry date of 3 years in the past and an expiry date of one year in the future, and the Riven Public Library institutional mark ( two open books facing each other, pressed into the card in dark ink beneath the First layer).
And on the back of the card there was the address of the library.
Perfect. What better place to look for knowledge other than the library?
(To be continued, next chapter: Knowledge)