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The Synthesis Wizard

In a world where elements lay barren and powerful wizards had abandoned their homeland a millennium ago to explore the multiverse, Sunan found himself reincarnated as a noble scion stripped of his title. This world, once brimming with magic and wonder, had fallen into a desolate state, and wizards had become mere legends. Sunan was acutely aware that after a thousand years, the elements would awaken once more, heralding the return of the wizards and ushering in a new era of prosperity. He understood that his path was clear: he must train diligently to become a wizard himself and survive until this glorious age arrived. “Resources are scarce?” he mused, determination flickering in his eyes. “Then I’ll just have to synthesize them myself.” With that thought, he activated the Synthesis Cube, a device that granted him the ability to combine materials into something new. This Cube was not just a tool; it was a symbol of his potential in this world, reflecting his status as a player in a game he once played. As he set to work, the Cube glowed with possibilities, presenting him with a myriad of options. He had a few basic materials at his disposal, remnants of his previous life and the knowledge he had accumulated from his past experiences in the game. Sunan began experimenting, combining herbs and minerals he had gathered. Each successful synthesis filled him with a sense of accomplishment, inching him closer to his goal of becoming a wizard. Days turned into weeks, and Sunan’s skills improved rapidly. He crafted potions, improved his understanding of magical theories, and honed his mental abilities through intense meditation practices. The Star Ring Meditation, one of the first techniques he mastered, allowed him to tap into the latent mental energy within himself, enhancing his cognitive functions and magical sensitivity. As he progressed, whispers of his endeavors began to circulate among the remaining noble families and the common folk. Some viewed him with suspicion, while others saw potential in the young man who dared to challenge the status quo. Sunan knew he needed allies. He began seeking out individuals who shared his vision—a return to the age of wizards. He discreetly approached the remnants of the nobility, the few who still held some influence, and began to forge connections. His reputation grew cautiously, and with it, the opportunities to gather resources and knowledge. He learned of hidden libraries, ancient texts, and artifacts that could aid in his quest. One fateful day, while exploring a forgotten ruin, he uncovered an ancient tome detailing the rituals of the wizards who had once thrived on this land. The pages contained knowledge that could accelerate his growth, including spells long lost to time. “This is it,” Sunan thought as he carefully transcribed the contents into his own notes. “With this, I can not only learn the spells but also improve my synthesis techniques.” As he delved deeper into the arcane arts, he realized that the key to his ascension lay not just in personal power but in understanding the intricate web of alliances and rivalries that defined noble society. He had to navigate these treacherous waters carefully. In the back of his mind, Sunan always remembered the impending return of the wizards. The time was coming when he would have to reveal his true potential and lead the charge into the new era. With each passing day, he grew stronger, more confident, and increasingly aware of the responsibilities that awaited him. The world was changing, and Sunan was determined to be at the forefront of that change—a wizard in a world that had forgotten what it meant to wield true power.

LegendaryTL · Derivados de juegos
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149 Chs

Chapter 63: The Test

Thump, thump, thump! Intense knocking shook the heavy wooden door.

Inside the wooden house, Sherman, who was sleeping under a tattered quilt, was instantly awakened. Rubbing his eyes, he sleepily called out, "Coming."

Mid-month of the Revival Moon, the weather was still quite chilly.

Sherman put on his worn-out clothes, grabbed the leather coat that served as a second blanket, and opened the door.

Outside, Old Roger leaned against a carriage, holding a whip in one hand and puffing on his pipe with the other. 

"Hurry up, it's getting late. If you're late, you'll get scolded."

"Got it."

Sherman closed the wooden door, nimbly climbed onto the carriage, showing no signs of urgency.

Roger glanced at him but said nothing. He cracked the whip sharply, and the old horse snorted as it pulled the carriage slowly forward.

Sherman leaned against the carriage railing, glanced at the dark sky, and closed his eyes for a nap.

Based on past experience, it would take about half an hour to reach the inner fort, and by then, the sky would be light.

Sherman was an orphan.

According to Old Roger, he found Sherman on a snowy day, and because he had no children of his own, he took Sherman in and raised him.

For years, Roger had worked hard collecting garbage for the nobles and disposing of it outside the city, raising Sherman to the age of twelve with great effort.

Sherman felt deep gratitude towards Roger.

Though he knew they weren't related by blood, Roger was like a father to him.

Unconsciously, the carriage entered the inner city.

A habit honed over time made Sherman automatically wake up.

From a distance, he saw the majestic castle, his eyes brimming with envy and longing.

That was where the lord and knights resided.

Sherman had dreamed countless times of becoming a noble, living in a luxurious castle, enjoying a high and lavish life.

Or perhaps becoming a powerful knight, earning the lord's favor, and becoming a guard, qualifying to live in the castle.

In the boy's limited understanding, that castle was the most wonderful place in the world.

But deep down, he knew that if not for his job, someone like him—a commoner—would never set foot in that castle in his lifetime.

Let alone live there.

Upon waking, the dreams would vanish, leaving only the cold reality.

Old Roger had told him that when he died, Sherman could inherit the two wooden houses and the carriage, taking over the job of cleaning garbage for the nobles.

Sherman thought that was likely his future.

The carriage stopped in front of the castle, and Sherman followed Roger off the carriage, heading towards the tall guards at the gate.

Previously, when they entered the castle to clean garbage, they were often extorted by the guards and stewards, who demanded various benefits.

However, since the previous lord was executed and the new lord took office, replacing the guards and stewards, they hadn't faced such extortion.

This alone made Sherman have a favorable impression of the new lord he had never met.

Over the past few months, the guards had become familiar with Roger and Sherman.

Seeing them arrive, they conducted a simple check and allowed them through.

Spending the entire morning, Roger and Sherman skillfully collected the garbage, loaded it onto the carriage, and prepared to transport it outside the city.

Before leaving, one of the guards suddenly called out to Sherman, looked him up and down, and asked, "Little Sherman, how old are you this year?"

Sherman was taken aback but answered truthfully, "Twelve."

"Can you read?"

Sherman nodded.

Commoners like him, working for the nobles, typically couldn't read, but Roger, having been an accounting apprentice for a shop in his youth, had learned to read before the shop closed. He then taught Sherman.

Hearing this, the guard smiled and said, "Perfect. The lord recently issued a decree that all youths aged twelve to fifteen who can read, regardless of gender or background, must report to the testing center for a test. You should go there later."

"Test? What kind of test?"

Sherman was still in a daze, but Roger became anxious and quickly said, "Sir, little Sherman has always worked diligently, never done anything wrong."

The guard waved his hand, chuckling, "Don't worry, it's a good thing. Lord Sunan is recruiting apprentices across the entire Shimmering Territory. Those who pass the test can become his apprentices and receive a gold coin subsidy each month."

Roger and Sherman were stunned, their faces full of shock.

They worked hard all month for less than ten silver coins.

But becoming an apprentice meant earning a gold coin monthly?

Was such a good thing possible?

However, Roger hesitated.

Was there really such a windfall in this world?

Could it be a trick to lure people away for some nefarious purpose?

Seeing Roger's expression, the guard knew what he was thinking and laughed, "Lord Sunan is a legendary wizard, and the decree was issued by the lord himself. You think those two have nothing better to do than deceive a poor wretch like you?"

"I wouldn't have bothered to remind you if I didn't see that little Sherman is a good kid."

Roger quickly apologized with a smile.

Thinking the guard made sense, after all, a decree from the lord couldn't be false.

Thanking the guard, Roger pulled Sherman onto the carriage.

On the way back, Roger thought for a while and said to Sherman, "After we dump the garbage, clean yourself up, change your clothes, and go to the testing center."

Sherman nodded vigorously, his eyes shining.

If he could become an apprentice to Lord Sunan as the guard mentioned, he could earn a gold coin monthly, and in a year or two, he could take Roger to the inner city, open a small shop, and no longer have to clean garbage from dawn to dusk.

Maybe he could even live in that castle!

The thought filled Sherman with excitement, wishing he could sprout wings and fly to the testing center right then.

Returning from outside the city, Sherman rushed home, washed up, changed into his best clothes, and headed straight to the place the guard mentioned.

The testing center was set up at the border between the outer and inner city.

In front of the temporarily erected wooden shed, hundreds of boys and girls around Sherman's age lined up.

Many excitedly whispered to each other, occasionally peering towards the front of the line.

Sherman noticed that these kids were all dressed neatly, at least in clean clothes, unlike his own faded, patched attire.

It made sense; in these times, those who could read typically came from better-off families.

Outliers like him were rare.

"Line up at the end, no wandering."

A nearby soldier noticed Sherman and instructed him to queue up.

Sherman obediently went to the end of the line and waited quietly.

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