Full-Time Wizard: Starting with Harvesting Wheat

Roy returned home, rummaged through the bucket and found the hidden black bread, taking a bite with some cold water.

As for the piece of jerky that Old John gave him, he carefully broke off a small piece and swallowed it with his bread.

While having dinner, he was also reflecting on what he had seen and heard that day.

There are currently four known individuals within the "Sword of the Kingdom" who possess bloodlines. Drock refers to them as "bloodline holders." According to Roy's estimation, Drock likely knows the strength of the other three and has established some kind of cooperative relationship with them. Otherwise, there would have been no need for him to suppress his strength in the Karazhan duel with Melanda.

From this perspective, it seems that Delock genuinely wants the boys to improve; he's a really good person!

No, there must be something fishy going on. Roy didn't believe a businessman could raise a son who was always helping others.

He doesn't know Delock, but he could ask Gerard or Olga about the man's character.

In addition, there are power slabs...

A 10% increase in strength may not seem like much, but it has no upper limit and is essentially permanent. Over time, it will accumulate into a significant amount of wealth.

"Unfortunately, it's in Delock's hands. Even if I were strong enough, I couldn't possibly be a robber and steal it away."

After finishing his meal, Roy picked up the wooden stick again and began practicing chopping. His muscles had gradually become familiar with the trajectory and force of each movement, and his strikes became as smooth as butter sliding into a wok.

"And then... the stab!"

This is a move Roy learned by secretly watching Gerald practice; it's also one of the basic sword techniques. Compared to wide, sweeping slashes, thrusts are more concealed and cunning, often achieving a decisive blow.

I had only adjusted my posture halfway when a heavy feeling of fatigue suddenly struck me, and my body issued a warning.

"This body is only 13 years old, and its physique is not yet at the level that I can squander." He stopped practicing without hesitation, went into the house and took out the "alarm clock" device that he had made last night.

A thick hemp rope and a cloth bag filled with mud.

Simply tie one end of the hemp rope to a cloth bag, wrap the middle section around the wooden nails on the roof beam several times, tie the other end to your elbow, control the weight of the cloth bag, and let the hemp rope slowly slip and fall. When the number of wraps is exhausted, the cloth bag will fall with gravity, pulling the hemp rope sharply and waking Roy.

In this device, the weight of the cloth bag is the most important factor. He adjusted it many times last night, and was constantly woken up by the hemp rope in the middle of the night before finally finishing the device.

Among them, the ability of True Sight has made an indelible contribution.

Roy tied the rope around the wooden pegs four times, which was roughly equivalent to four hours. After making sure the pulling sensation of the rope wouldn't wake him up, he lay down on the uncomfortable wooden bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

About four hours later, Roy was jerked on the elbow in his sleep. He opened his eyes instantly.

"It's time to go." He lit the animal oil lamp with flint and a thin sheet of iron, and billowing smoke billowed out.

On the country road, the oil lamp was the only source of light. As he approached the area with buildings, the moonlight became even dimmer, and he had to turn off the lamp to avoid waking others.

It was almost completely dark, but True Sight effectively revealed the debris on the ground, allowing Roy to avoid it.

He almost stepped on a pile of excrement halfway through the journey, but luckily he braked in time, otherwise he would have left a mark.

Roy was a little nervous about his first time doing something like stealing chickens, and perhaps it was the night wind, but he was trembling all over.

"The side door... I remember it being here." Following the original owner's memories, he found the side door of the church. Unlike the smooth stone used for the main door, the side door was a small oak door with peeling paint, which looked like it was about to collapse.

Even the padlock above is rusted from years of wind and rain.

Roy pulled out the iron key that he had just made that morning from his pocket; the key was noticeably warmer than his palm.

He slowly inserted the key into the lock, his breath catching in his throat.

This was the first time he had ever made a key, and he had done it solely from memory, so it was perfectly normal for it to fail to match.

"Hmm? It failed after all?" The key encountered resistance as it moved forward; it must be misaligning with the keyhole...

"Forget it, I'll just rebuild it tomorrow..." He was already planning to turn and leave, exerting a little force without much hope.

Click!

The key broke through that final barrier and plunged into the lock cylinder!

With a subconscious twist from Roy, the bolt inside the lock cylinder snapped open!

"So it was just a rusty lock..." He breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and slowly pushed open the door.

On the altar, the silver candlesticks were polished to a gleaming shine, and the soft moonlight slanted into the stained-glass windows, making the lower half of the statue so smooth it was like a mirror.

At this moment, everything except the altar, which was illuminated by light, was submerged in thick darkness.

The statue may not seem impressive from a distance, but upon closer inspection, its imposing three-meter stature is incredibly awe-inspiring, enough to inspire reverence in anyone who worships God.

Unfortunately, Roy showed no respect whatsoever.

His fist could barely reach the statue's thigh, and even when he stood on tiptoe, he could only touch its hip. This meant that from now on, all his attacks would have to be aimed at the thigh.

"So hard!" He threw a punch with 80% of his strength, but the statue didn't budge. From inside its solid shell, a soft sigh could be heard.

It was as if they were mocking Roy's weakness.

"This must mean I'm not using enough strength, right? Strength levels above 1.0 can be trained, do I really have to use my full power?"

He suddenly realized that if he were to be punched a thousand times like this, his hands would be a bloody mess, and the more likely outcome would be comminuted fractures.

Roy frowned, tore off a corner of his clothes, wrapped it around his fist, and held his breath.

This punch will be delivered with full force!

The fist struck the statue's thigh, and the entire statue emitted a faint groan, its outline gleaming with a barely perceptible dim light.

At the same time, a stream of heat gushed out from the junction of the bone joints and the statue, flowing into Roy's body like a spring of sweet water.

His arm, which was in excruciating pain, was instantly injected with a painkiller—no, it was even more powerful than a painkiller, practically blocking out his senses!

"This treatment effect..."

"A hundred years ago... a hermit... personally sculpted it..."

He suddenly remembered the priest's words.

"Could this ascetic also be a superhuman? If so, is this statue some kind of magical artifact?"

He swallowed hard, stopped thinking about it, and started punching the statue repeatedly.

With each punch, an unnamed energy surges from the statue, repairing its body.

As he punched faster and faster, the statue's soft groan disappeared, leaving only the dim light flickering uncertainly.

That night, Roy seemed to be relentlessly unleashing powerful punches.

More than four hours passed, and the sky was beginning to lighten.

Finally, he exhaled a deep breath, clenched his fist, and stood still, like a warrior who had just finished a battle.

[You have punched the Excellent-grade training statue 1000 times, gaining 0.1 Strength attribute.]

[You have punched the Excellent-grade training statue 1000 times, gaining 0.1 Strength attribute.]

[You have learned the skill - Free Fighting Lv.1]