In the center of the Angela Ring Mountain Range was a vast plain.
Dawn.
At the edge of the woodlands, Ian stood before his house, gazing toward the center of the plain where a spire pierced the clouds.
Shadow Moon Tower Academy, home to the Wizards.
He had inexplicably transmigrated here last night, becoming the new owner of this body, a Low Level Wizard Apprentice.
Icy fragments of memory crashed through his mind: the dissolute life of a Count's second son, the folly of being swindled out of all his Magic Stones, the searing pain of poison gas filling his throat...
None of this belonged to him, yet it had all become him.
Ian leaned against the doorframe, his fingertips digging into the wood grain.
'Transmigration? How absurd.'
'The body's original owner died a worthless death. And I, a lost soul from another world... how am I supposed to survive here?'
'Of all the times I've tried refining this, I've never produced such potent toxic gas. Why last night...?'
He had been trying to refine the most common Tier Zero Potion: the Awakening Potion.
Drinking it granted two hours of mental Concentration, making it the most commonly used aid for an Apprentice's Meditation.
Over the course of the night, Ian had managed to accept the reality of his transmigration and sort through the jumbled memories in his mind.
He turned and went inside, walking into the small Laboratory next to the bedroom.
The house consisted of two wooden rooms, enclosed by a yard with a shoulder-high fence. The furnishings were simple; he ate and studied all in the same space.
Walking over to the workbench, he began to inspect the materials left over from the night before.
Soon, he picked up a withered herb and caught a very faint, putrid smell.
Its leaves were dotted with tiny white spots.
Ian frowned.
'This isn't Moonlight Grass... It's a Bone Rot Flower.'
The white spots were traces of congealed death energy.
The two herbs had very similar leaves and spots, but their uses were worlds apart.
Moonlight Grass was rare, while Bone Rot Flowers grew everywhere around the mountain range.
The main ingredient for the Awakening Potion was Moonlight Grass.
Bone Rot Flowers, on the other hand, were typically used to concoct poisons, or in small quantities for certain obscure Body Refining Potions.
'These Magic Potion Materials... Simon forced them all on me.'
Ian's expression darkened.
This was the man who had coaxed him into choosing Magic Potion Science.
In the last two years, Simon had wheedled no less than two hundred Magic Stones out of him.
It had nearly wiped out the savings he'd brought from his family.
No, they *were* completely wiped out.
All he had to his name were six Magic Stones.
Simon's Realm was higher than his; he was a Middle Level Wizard Apprentice and had been at the academy for five years.
'Someone who studies Dark Witchcraft wouldn't recognize a Bone Rot Flower?'
Ian wasn't sure if it had been an oversight or a deliberate act.
But it didn't matter anymore.
...
Ian rolled up his sleeves and cleaned off the workbench.
The tabletop was littered with dried potion stains, and the rim of the mortar was caked with a brown residue.
He picked up a coarse cloth, soaked it in fresh water, and vigorously wiped the wooden surface. The water seeped into the grain, leaving dark streaks.
The original owner's aptitude hadn't been bad; it was above average.
He'd had about a one-in-ten chance of breaking through to become an Official Wizard.
He took a clay jar from a wooden shelf in the corner and removed the lid.
Inside was dried Moonlight Grass, its leaves curled and edges gleaming with a silvery-white luster.
He picked out three stalks, feeling the brittle texture of the leaves at his fingertips.
The mortar was carved from black stone, its inner walls rough.
Ian placed the Moonlight Grass inside, poured in a small amount of water, and took the stone pestle in hand. It felt cool and heavy.
He began to grind. The pestle made a rasping sound against the bottom of the mortar as the leaves gradually broke down, mixing with the water to form a paste and releasing a crisp, herbal fragrance.
Next, he opened another small wooden box containing Menthol Crystals.
The crystals were a pale, translucent green, with sharp, well-defined angles.
He took out a small piece with tweezers, placed it in a glass beaker, then poured in just enough fresh water from a pitcher to submerge the crystal.
While waiting for the extraction to complete, Ian lit the alcohol lamp beneath his workbench.
A blue flame leaped up, licking at the copper pot on the iron stand.
He poured the Moonlight Grass paste into the pot, and the bottom of the pot began to sizzle softly over the flame.
He stirred slowly with a glass rod. The paste gradually thickened, its color changing from grayish-green to a light blue.
The Menthol Crystals slowly dissolved in the water, turning the liquid a pale green.
Ian filtered the solution through paper, yielding a small cup of clear Fern Juice.
The cool scent of mint spread through the air, overwhelming the previous herbal smell.
He poured the Fern Juice into the copper pot to mix with the Moonlight Grass paste. The instant the two liquids made contact, tiny bubbles frothed on the surface.
Ian increased his stirring speed, and the liquids gradually combined, turning a uniform lake-blue.
The final step was to add the catalyst powder.
He took a pinch of silver powder from a tinfoil packet. The powder was extremely fine and felt slick between his fingers. Holding his breath, he sprinkled it evenly into the solution.
The moment the powder touched the surface of the liquid, it made a soft HISS.
The solution began to churn, its color deepening from blue and taking on a pearly luster.
Ian stared at the transformation, his fingers tightening around the glass rod.
During the final stage, Ian stared carefully at the light blue glass bottle in his hands.
A faint warmth came from the sides of the bottle. He held his position, watching the liquid swirl slowly. Bubbles rose from the bottom, only to pop at the surface.
After a moment, a puff of green smoke emerged from the mouth of the bottle, carrying a pungent, acrid smell.
The solution's color rapidly faded from light blue to transparent, leaving only a clear, water-like liquid behind.
"Failure."
Ian set the bottle down, tapping his fingers on the workbench.
After all, this was his first real attempt. Failure was to be expected.
He was about to clean up the mess...
[Awakening Potion Skill Level +1]
Suddenly, a line of text flashed before his eyes.
At the same time, a jolt shot through his mind.
A translucent panel materialized before his eyes.
'This is... a game panel?!'
His heart skipped a beat, and he rubbed his eyes hard.
The Light Curtain was still floating there. It wasn't a hallucination, nor a dying dream.
A searing heat suddenly exploded from his heart, scattering the chill and confusion that had plagued him all night.
'With this... maybe, just maybe, I won't have to die an ignominious death like the body's previous owner.'
The corners of his mouth twitched, then pulled upward into a grin he couldn't suppress. A true smile, one that belonged to this "Ian," appeared for the first time on his pale face.
[Name: Ian Marcus]
[Age: 16]
[Realm: Low Level Wizard Apprentice (53%)]
[Talent: Moderate Light Attribute Affinity]
[Skills:
Star Moon Low Level Meditation Method: Beginner (72/200)
Wizard's Hand: Beginner (13/100)
Basic Magic Potion Recognition: Uninitiated (42/50)
Awakening Potion: Uninitiated (25/50)]
With a thought, the panel vanished.
Another thought, and the Light Curtain reappeared.
Although he had failed the refining, the panel had given him feedback. A subtle new understanding of the process flowed into his mind...
...details about the pressure needed to grind the Moonlight Grass, the timing of the Fern Juice extraction, the angle for sprinkling the powder...
Countless details surfaced in his mind, and his Skill Level for the Awakening Potion rose by a point.
Ian processed the information, let out a long breath, and walked out of the Laboratory.
His emotions were in turmoil, making it a bad time to continue with Alchemy.
He splashed his face with cold water, forcing himself to calm down.
The water was frigid, raising goosebumps as it hit his skin.
The water's surface reflected a pale face with slightly sunken eyes. He looked listless and utterly unremarkable.
He pushed the door open, and the cool breeze on his face felt wonderful.
Ian glanced around. Through gaps in the trees, he could faintly make out the eaves of other houses.
The residents here were all Mid-Low Level Apprentices.
This area was on the outskirts of the High Tower, a few miles from the nearest town.
Security was maintained by the High Tower's patrols, but the sense of Order wasn't particularly strong.
Like Ian, they weren't qualified to live in the center of the plain.
That was the domain of Official Wizards and even greater beings...
As for learning, besides self-study, they could attend one free basic class in the teaching district each week.
Alternatively, they could spend Magic Stones to take specialized courses.
"Magic Stones..." Ian sighed softly.
Here, Magic Stones were the only currency that mattered.
Even with poor aptitude, as long as you had enough resources, your early Cultivation speed wouldn't be much slower than a genius's.
His most valuable possessions at the moment were the Low Tier Magical Potion Materials in his Laboratory.
Ian paced around the house a few times, a plan forming in his mind.
Right now, earning Magic Stones wasn't his most urgent problem.
In two months, his two-year anniversary at the academy would arrive.
Shadow Moon Tower had a rule: new students had to break through to the Middle Level Wizard Apprentice Realm within two years, or they would not be allowed to stay.
Those who couldn't make it had to either pay an exorbitant fee or be expelled.
Most of the poor Apprentices with mediocre aptitude couldn't afford the fee.
Some became voluntary test subjects, others sold their bodies—their fates were often tragic.
Having had a glimpse of the magnificent Wizard World, almost none of them were willing to give up on this path.
Ian had to increase his strength before that deadline.
The fastest way to do that was to improve his Star Moon Meditation Method.
He needed to accelerate the refinement of his Spiritual Power and break through his current limits.
Looking at the Realm description on the panel, a sense of urgency weighed on him.
The body's previous owner had been too obsessed with Alchemy, and with nothing to show for it, his Cultivation progress had already fallen far behind his peers.
Back in the house, he cut off a piece of black bread and washed it down with a few gulps of cold water.
The bread was coarse, scraping his throat raw.
He didn't begin to meditate right away. Instead, he returned to the workbench, lit the alcohol lamp, and picked up the mortar once more.
This time, his movements were steadier.
The sound of the Moonlight Grass crushing beneath the pestle seemed to carry a rhythm of its own.