Wizard Bloodline

When Ronan awoke from his sleep, rubbing his eyes as he looked at the window, he realized that the sun was nearly setting. His first reaction was to quickly prepare a meal; cooking by candlelight after dark was far from enjoyable.

Besides, he was truly famished.

After washing his hands with water from the storage jar, Ronan took out the food left by the original owner of the body—a mixed grain consisting of quinoa, corn, black beans, and various other ingredients he couldn't quite identify.

This stuff might only fetch a few copper coins elsewhere, but in the Hoddam Wizarding Land, it cost a magic stone grain per pound.

A single low-grade magic stone could be divided into a hundred magic stone grains, meaning that one magic stone could only buy about a hundred pounds of this coarse grain.

The prices in the wizarding land were undeniably exorbitant.

Ronan scooped two spoonfuls of the mixed grain into a small pot and added some water.

While the rice cooked, he made a soup using wild mushrooms and a few pigeon eggs that the original owner had collected in the forest.

With mixed grain rice and mushroom egg drop soup, a simple dinner was ready.

When you're truly hungry, taste and texture become secondary to just filling your stomach.

After eating his fill, Ronan strolled out of the treehouse, rubbing his belly. The sky outside was completely dark.

The night sky above had turned a deep, mysterious blue, while the forest around him began to glow with tiny points of light, preventing total darkness.

A multitude of firefly-like creatures rose from the ground in swarms, resembling dandelions blown apart by the wind, painting the tranquil night with a fairy-tale-like beauty.

Unfortunately—

"Slap!"

Ronan smacked his arm hard, killing a mosquito.

"This damn place has way too many mosquitoes at night."

The robe he wore was no defense against the bites, and after just a short time at the doorway, his head was covered in itchy welts.

Grimacing, he hurried back into the small house.

Moments later, he emerged again.

This time, Ronan had sprinkled a generous amount of insect repellent powder on his robe and carried a small net and a semi-transparent white pouch.

Perched on the branch of the old oak tree, he used the net to catch the glowing creatures dancing in the night.

These firefly-like creatures were fairly easy to catch, and before long, Ronan's pouch was filled to the brim.

"Forty... forty should be enough, right?"

Just as Ronan was contemplating whether to continue, he heard the rustling sounds of people approaching, accompanied by voices not far away.

He immediately became alert, instinctively wanting to retreat into the treehouse.

But he was a step too slow.

Two figures, one tall and one short, emerged from the woods.

In the moonlight and the glow of the fireflies, he could make out a man and a woman in robes, walking shoulder to shoulder, seemingly taking an evening stroll.

Ronan froze on the branch, gripping the net and pouch, not daring to move, cold sweat forming on his forehead as his mind raced.

Fortunately, the pair only glanced at him briefly before turning away, disappearing into the forest once more.

"Phew—"

Once the figures had vanished completely, Ronan let out a long sigh of relief, his tense muscles finally relaxing.

Still, a sense of frustration lingered.

"I'm like a frightened bird..."

"It's because I'm too weak."

Ronan sighed, losing the mood to catch any more insects, and quickly returned to the treehouse with his catch.

He extinguished the candle inside and hung the pouch filled with fireflies from the roof beam, creating a simple "light bulb."

Unfortunately, it would only last for one night.

By morning, the insects in the pouch would be dead.

Ronan stared at the pouch for a while, watching as the soft yellow glow bathed the small house, providing far better illumination and aesthetics than a candle. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the oak table in front of him.

The table was already covered with books, all left by the original owner.

Ronan focused mainly on four of them:

- "Basic Meditation Techniques"

- "The Complete Guide to Zero-Level Spells"

- "Runology: Ten Common Zero-Level Runes"

- "Introduction to Alchemy"

These four books represented his most valuable possessions.

The original owner had spent nearly all the magic stones brought from home to acquire these four books from the Hoddam Wizard Academy.

These books represented knowledge, heritage, and were the keys to opening the door to wizardry.

A significant portion of the wizards gathered in the Hoddam Wizarding Land were students of the Hoddam Wizard Academy.

The academy's admission standards were not strict; as long as you could pay the tuition, you could enroll.

But within the academy, everything from courses to meals and accommodation required money.

Once your magic stones were spent, you would be "kindly" asked to leave as easily as you were allowed to enter.

Thus, while many students came from the Hoddam Wizard Academy, few were truly recognized by it. Those who were became synonymous with power and genius.

"It's more like a business than a school," Ronan muttered, flipping open the black-covered "Basic Meditation Techniques."

Mental strength was the foundation and core of a wizard's power system, and meditation was the primary method to enhance it—its importance was self-evident.

Ronan had attempted "meditation" several times over the past couple of days, but never succeeded, always feeling that he was just a little off.

He hadn't absorbed any of the original owner's experiences or insights on this part, so he had to start from scratch, like a complete beginner.

"...Empty your mind, dismiss distractions, focus your spirit on a single point."

Ronan recited the steps described in the book.

After reading, he closed the book, shut his eyes, and mentally rehearsed the process several times, simultaneously relaxing his mind.

Feeling ready, Ronan got up, took a sip of water, washed his hands and face, then sat cross-legged on his small bed.

In truth, there's no specific posture required for a wizard to meditate; lying down or sprawling works too.

But Ronan found that those positions made it too easy to fall asleep.

As he got into bed, a corner of the thin blanket beneath him was inadvertently pulled back, revealing a line of small text.

"Soul, the immortal abode."

Ronan softly read the words, his expression changing subtly.

This sentence opened "Basic Meditation Techniques," a widely circulated adage in the wizarding world.

It served as a reminder to every person embarking on the wizard's path that mental strength is the focus of cultivation, and the pursuit of an immortal soul is the true immortality.

Someone had carved it into the bed frame as a personal reminder.

Clearly, it wasn't carved by the original owner, as the writing looked aged.

Perhaps it was left by the previous occupant of the small wooden house, or even the one before that.

Ronan's imagination wandered, picturing a scene from long ago—an adolescent like himself, sitting in the same spot, under the same dim light, on the same bed frame.

Alone, silently meditating and striving, dreaming of one day leaving the treehouse area to enter the academy.

This thought unexpectedly filled Ronan with a sense of courage and motivation.

He drew inexplicable encouragement and strength from the discovered text, and the lingering fear from the day's and evening's events gradually faded, leaving his mind completely at ease.