From birth, I had difficulty feeling emotions. To be more exact, I could not empathize with others.
I was undeniably different from everyone else, and I knew that if I continued this path, something would go terribly wrong.
Yet, at some point, I encountered dreams that allowed me to inhabit other people’s lives.
Through the dreams, I experienced the cruel lives of a hired soldier, a s*ave, an artist, and more, ultimately becoming skilled at virtually everything.
In this world, there was no role I could not perform.
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"Hoot hoot! It seems like your new experiment has failed again, dear Lord Brian."
A graceful, misty owl perched elegantly on an ornate wooden stand, its words devoid of any politeness.
The owl tilted its fluffy head, flapped its wings playfully, and with its drawn-out tone, it looked rather comical.
"Shut up, you foolish creature."
A low, gravelly voice echoed.
The voice was soft, almost inaudible in the spacious laboratory, yet it silenced the menacing-looking owl instantly, causing it to fold its wings and behave as meek as a quail.
This was a lavish and spacious laboratory.
The floor was adorned with flawless, opulent tiles, while the ceiling sparkled with a dazzling display of stars, casting a dreamy ambiance.
Various expensive and rare materials were scattered around the laboratory.
For instance, in the corner, there was a cabinet containing precious elixirs worth thousands of witch crystals, enough to astonish any exhausted wizard apprentice with red-rimmed eyes.
However, what truly caught one's attention in this laboratory was the handsome man dressed in an exquisite wizard robe.
[The seventh experiment failed.]
The man leaned lazily on a plush sofa, holding a valuable feathered quill in his slender, powerful hand, writing this sentence on a levitating parchment.
The beautiful, graceful calligraphy on the parchment intertwined like elegant, flexible black serpents when viewed from afar.
"Ah, damn alchemy."
Brian sneered lightly, his elegant voice low and chilling, reminiscent of a serpent slithering by one's ear, sending shivers down one's spine.
Seven times.
This was the limit of his patience.
If not for a bet with that cursed, Merlin-cursed dark wizard, as a rare undead wizard, he would never have delved into this obscure and esoteric field of alchemy.
Even though he possessed excellent research potential and an enormous supply of witch crystals for extravagant experiments.
But now, he no longer needed that.
Having formidable and unreachable magical power was sufficient.
Brian casually snapped his fingers, as if conducting a party of the undead, and a beautiful, dazzling blue flame instantly rose in the center of the laboratory on a massive, exquisite stone platform.
Without any deviation, as precise as if measured with a ruler, not a fraction over the edge of the stone platform.
No incantations, no need for wands – effortless for a wizard of excessive power.
The greedy blue flames licked the surface of the stone platform, painted with a complex witching array, using ink worth fifty witch crystals.
The ink, initially a deep black, gradually faded, and the flames expanded as if satisfied, changing from peacock blue to a richer, more profound sapphire.
Suddenly, the cheerful, swaying blue flames paused for a moment, then resumed swaying as if nothing had happened.
This split-second pause passed unnoticed.
Brian narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, with no other visible reaction.
The flames on the stone platform suddenly extinguished, soundlessly, just as they had appeared.
"Hoot hoot!"
The misty owl seemed to sense something and flew to the man's shoulder.
"Perhaps you're about to have a companion, Zoey."
Brian casually teased, with an air of nonchalance, as he approached the stone platform.
"Of course, if it's even a tad smarter than you."
The handsome wizard thought aloud, clicking his tongue.
His luxurious wizard's robe rustled as he moved, creating a breeze.
"Hoot hoot! Companion? Is it edible? Delicious?"
Zoey, the owl, tilted her head, perhaps thinking of food, and her initially fierce expression now showed a somewhat adorable look, with slight trembling at the edges of her misty form.
Brian glanced slightly disdainfully at Zoey on his shoulder, then returned his gaze to the stone platform, which bore traces of the expensive Moiré ink.
Unexpectedly, for his first experiment, he decided to keep this cursed owl, unstable in form and obsessed with food.
However, he kept it for comparison with his future experiments, nothing more.
To his dismay, the self-proclaimed prodigious wizard had never anticipated that each subsequent alchemical experiment would be worse than the last.
A phoenix with a missing leg, a unicorn with two horns, and a mutant frog that only croaked annoyingly...
Their final fate was to dissolve into the corrosive Bone Eater Elixir worth 250 witch crystals per bottle.
Thinking of this unpleasant matter, which was beyond his control, Brian's expression darkened, his gaze growing gloomy.
He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface of the stone platform, where the nearly faded Moiré ink suddenly activated, coalescing into a ball and, in the next moment, dispersing to form an intricate spiderweb-like map.
If a knowledgeable wizard were to see it, they would recognize it as a map of the entire wizarding plane.
At one corner of this detailed map, a black dot blinked desperately.
"The Misty Moon Forest of Atlantis..."
Brian pondered, lightly touching the blinking dot. The diligent little dot disappeared as if it had fulfilled its mission, and along with it, the ink-formed map gradually faded away.
"Hoot hoot! Atlantis! Sounds very far away!"
Zoey couldn't help but speak again. "Lord Brian, are you planning to take a long journey?"
A long journey, huh?
It didn't sound like a bad idea.
Staying in the wizard's tower all the time was getting boring, and the foolish and timid wizard apprentices in the academy couldn't withstand any excitement.
Despite these thoughts, the young wizard tower master, now known as Claude Scott, wore a mischievous and childlike grin on his face, basking in the satisfaction of his successful prank.
Maybe he could find some amusement in Atlantis, Brian thought to himself, his lips curling slightly.
He strode into the inner chamber, and when he emerged again, he was transformed.
A well-fitted, elegant Western suit accentuated his broad shoulders and slender waist, sculpting his muscular physique. His silken platinum hair fell lazily over his shoulders, and his striking azure eyes shone deep and enchanting, like cerulean sea waves in the sunlight.
The single-lens eyeglass he wore on his right eye added a touch of sophistication and mystery.
Who wouldn't praise the handsome and elegant gentleman when they saw him?
"Tell Christina that Chief Scott is going on a long journey."
Brian glanced lightly at Zoey as he fondled the fine silver chain of his eyeglass, muttering to himself, "Perhaps I can also recruit some fresh young lambs for the academy along the way."
"Hoot hoot! Zoey will tell Witch Christina that Lord Brian is going on a long journey and, in the capacity of Chief Scott's apprentice, will be recruiting for the academy."
Zoey repeated this phrase incessantly, and her misty form flew straight through the floor beneath her feet.
This time, she successfully passed through, disappearing before young Chief Wizard Brian could emit a cold snort.
Brian, or rather, Claude Scott, disappeared from his original location after glancing at the scene below through his single-lens eyeglass.
...
Atlantis continent.
A border town called Kozwood is adjacent to the "famous" Misty Moon Forest.
The reason it's called "famous" is because the Misty Moon Forest has contributed many terrifying bedtime stories for the children of the Atlantis continent.
Ordinary people, of course, would not blindly step into this legendary dangerous forest, but for hot-blooded adventurers, the Misty Moon Forest, with its fanged and clawed reputation in the poems sung by wandering bards, is their sacred place.
The Misty Moon Forest, bathed in the radiant moonlight, exudes a layer of mystery.
A corner of the Misty Moon Forest.
A tall and slender teenager of fifteen or sixteen lies quietly on the ground, as if in a deep sleep.
The tall trees around cast dark shadows on the overgrown ground, looking eerie and ghostly.
Scattered around the teenager are finely crafted crossbow bolts. Under a nearby tree, there is a poor gray hare that has been dead for not long, pierced through the heart by an arrow.
If you look closer, you will find a dark green little snake coiled on the pale face of the teenager.
The snake, as thick as a thumb, occasionally extends its flexible tongue to gently lick the teenager's cheek.
Under the teenager's left eye, there is an extremely fine pinhole, continuously oozing bright red blood.
As soon as a small pearl-like drop of blood emerges, it is immediately licked clean by the little snake.
Until the sky turns white, the morning sun rises, and the clear golden light breaks through the dim twilight.
No longer does a drop of blood ooze from under the teenager's left eye; instead, it slowly condenses into an exquisite teardrop, hanging at the corner of his eye.
The presence of this teardrop, like the finishing touch on a painting, adds a hint of melancholy and mystery to his pale cheek, making even his overly gaunt and concealed exquisite features suddenly come to life.
It seems to sense the warmth of the sun, and the hand hanging by the teenager's side moves slightly, and his thick, long eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings.
The little snake looks warily at the teenager, then slowly crawls into the pocket of the teenager's chest.
Cyril woke up with a splitting headache, as if someone were hammering something hard into his mind, one heavy blow after another.
There were people chattering, as if in a heated argument, and it sounded like a swarm of bees buzzing incessantly.
It was like being separated by a thick fog, hearing terrifying, desperate screams coming from a very distant place, sending shivers down his spine for no apparent reason.
Unexplainably, he felt a bit uneasy.
After waiting for a while, Cyril finally managed to adjust to the discomforting dizziness in his head. He realized that his limbs were stiff, and even his blood seemed to be congealed.
He vividly remembered that he had just finished reviewing the entire "Harry Potter" series when the system seemingly sent him here as if he were attending a gathering.
Cyril slowly sat up, rubbed his sore arms, and surveyed his surroundings.
Gigantic trees surrounded him, and the ground was covered with dense undergrowth. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, casting a warm hue on this seemingly wild forest.
"Is this... the Forbidden Forest?"
Cyril stood up and carefully examined his surroundings.
This Forbidden Forest appeared somewhat different from the descriptions in the books and his imagination, he mumbled to himself.
Wait a minute! Something's not right!
Cyril shook his head.
Why was he thrown directly into the Forbidden Forest???
He vividly remembered how dangerous and magical creatures roamed in the Forbidden Forest, creatures that not even trained wizards could handle!
Cyril's heart suddenly tightened.
He bent down to pick up the well-made crossbow bolts scattered on the ground and held them in his hand, pondering in his mind. What was his identity here? Perhaps a young hunter?
But why would there be hunters in the Forbidden Forest?
Which fearless hunter would want to come to the Forbidden Forest?
Cyril lowered his head to look at his clothing.
He was wearing a pair of gray linen trousers, and his feet were wrapped in ill-fitting leather shoes. The shoddy leather shoes were tightly tied to his legs with coarse fabric.
These shoes were at least three sizes too big, Cyril muttered helplessly.
On his upper body, he was wearing an oversized short-sleeved jacket, and the rough shirt beneath the jacket felt heavy and dirty, stained with mud, weeds, and even dried dark-colored bloodstains, making it impossible to discern its original color.
On his arms, he wore a somewhat heavy piece of old armor.
Suddenly, something in the pocket of his jacket began to move. He instinctively reached inside and felt something ice-cold gently lick his warm fingers.
The chilly, slippery sensation made him involuntarily think of an unfriendly creature.
Cyril's face stiffened, and his hand, which had been placed in his pocket, trembled slightly.