Our Dharma Masters are like this.

Chapter 4 Road

“It was left over from farm work,” Zellier answered truthfully.

"Oh? From a farming family?"

Gray became interested; his hands didn't stop moving, but his mouth kept chattering.

"I thought you were some runaway young master who came here to experience life... Speaking of which, aren't only rich people the only ones who can become mages? Buying scrolls, wands, robes and the like, each one is incredibly expensive."

“There are exceptions sometimes, aren’t there?” Zellier pursed his lips.

According to the memories inherited by Zelier, the original owner's background was not particularly remarkable; he was just a poor farmer on the border of the kingdom.

From birth, Zellir and his parents spent their days working the fields, leading a life of toil in the fields, barely able to support themselves after paying taxes each year.

However, a turning point came when Zellir was seven years old.

It was an ordinary summer afternoon.

The work in the fields wasn't too busy, and unusually, his father didn't urge Zelier, allowing him to rest under the old locust tree by the edge of the field.

The cicadas were chirping loudly, the air in the distance was distorted by the heat, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

Everything was just like the days before, so ordinary that it made one drowsy.

Zellir lay on his back on the grass, squinting at the leaves swaying gently in the wind, utterly bored.

But in that instant, the world suddenly changed in his eyes.

This is not a visual change, but rather an ineffable perception.

He saw the wind; it was no longer invisible, but rather strands of pale blue silk.

He heard the earth, its deep, steady hum resounding like a heartbeat.

He felt the light; countless golden particles danced in the sunlight above him, warm and comforting.

Immediately afterwards, an irresistible and immense suction force erupted, dragging Zellir's consciousness into the boundless dark universe.

At the center of this dark universe, a faint light floats.

Zellir's curiosity overcame his fear, and as his consciousness tentatively approached the light, the seed sensed his gaze and then throbbed slightly.

A dazzling light flowed out, like a clear spring gushing forth, bringing with it an extraordinary power.

The name of this power is magic.

Zellir awakened his Source Seed.

When Zellier regained consciousness, his heart pounded wildly and his breathing became rapid.

For children from farming families, seven years old means that you are no longer a toddler who only knows how to play in the mud.

You have to learn to distinguish between good and bad crops, and learn to lift a hoe half your height with your still-developing, thin shoulders, even under your father's scolding.

Zellir's life should have been filled with soil and sweat, and he should have grown up step by step into a dark-skinned, silent farmer like his father.

But he realized that he might be able to forge a different path.

The name of that road is "The Mage".

For the next nine years, Zellir's life was divided into two parts.

One group consisted of poor farmers' sons still working in the fields, while the other group were seekers of truth with great dreams.

Zell began to use all his spare time to study diligently on his own.

He would go to town and painstakingly gather information about magic. When bards carrying lutes came to the village, Zellir would pester them to tell him stories about magicians.

He also used his savings from several years to buy a tattered scroll that recorded the structure of the spell. After continuous meditation and practice, he finally mastered the Fireball spell.

That year, Zell was sixteen years old, and the flames leaping from his palm filled him with unparalleled excitement.

But in that same year, the king increased taxes, causing hardship and suffering for the people. Zelier's parents, who had toiled their entire lives, finally succumbed to the burden and passed away. After burying them, he sat by the edge of the field, leaning against the old locust tree, lost in thought for a long time.

Zellir could choose to inherit the land his parents had poured their hearts and souls into and continue being a farmer.

But he ultimately decided to embark on an adventurer's journey with his last savings, free from all constraints.

People always need to find a new way to live.

Seeing Zellier's pensive look with his eyes down, Gray thought his words had provoked him, so he nudged Zellier with his elbow.

"Don't mind me, I was just saying it casually. You can save up money slowly if you don't have any. I saw how talented you were when you cast the spell just now. You will succeed."

"Thank you."

Zellier smiled kindly and said nothing more, but continued to grip the skin flap tightly to cooperate with Gray.

Peeling and cleaning takes a lot of time, and it took several people most of the night to finish.

As for the wolf carcasses, they were thrown into a nearby deep pit and left to rot.

Fortunately, this pack of wolves was the dominant species in the area, and all carnivores avoided them out of fear. So even though the camp smelled strongly of blood, it did not attract any other predators.

Because Marcus and Gray contributed the most in the battle, the subsequent watch duty was given to Vales.

Nothing happened all night.

When Zellier opened his eyes again, the clear chirping of birds could be heard outside the tent, and strands of sunlight shone through the gaps in the curtains.

Its daybreak.

"what……"

Zellir rubbed his eyes and sat up.

The bunk next to him was empty, and the faint sounds of Gray and Marcus talking could be heard from outside.

I didn't sleep well.

Because it was the first day of his transmigration, a jumble of dreams intertwined, leaving Zelier feeling uneasy.

It still takes time to gradually accept it...

Zell scratched his messy hair and subconsciously checked the panel.

Power: 65
Agility: 60
Constitution: 68
Spirit: 71
Intelligence: 66
Perception: 30
Charisma: 45
Luck: 41
Apart from the four points of spirit I gained last night, none of my other attributes have changed.

Below the Technique Evolution section, the analysis progress of the Great Creation Technique remains at 0%.

Upon seeing this, Zellir couldn't help but frown.

The Great Creation Technique—what kind of magic is this?
Never mind... I'll just ask the official magicians' guild when the time comes.

After all, the original owner's understanding of magic was not deep in her memories, and there were many things waiting for her to discover on her own.

Zellier lifted the curtain, and the cool morning breeze brushed against her face.

The air in the forest is very fresh, mixed with the fragrance of plants, which invigorates the spirit.

After a quick wash, Zellier caught the toasted black bread that Gray tossed to him and ate it while dipping it in hot soup.

The bread is quite hard; it can only be swallowed after being soaked in soup. I doubt you could even chew it if you were eating it dry.

Moreover, the taste is not as good as the baked goods in my past life memories; they don't even have much sweetness.

I'll just have something simple to fill my stomach.

As Marcus had planned, the team was supposed to leave Greywood Forest today and return to the Adventurers' Guild in Blackrock Town to complete the wolf hunt quest.

(End of this chapter)