Night was falling fast, and Veigar considered returning to the tree where he had first appeared.Then he hesitated.
"I don't know the dangers of this world yet… Maybe creatures crawl out of dungeons at night. Zombies lurking through the woods. Talking demon beasts. Or worse—what if I get bitten by a mosquito and catch some cursed forest virus?Why am I like this? Am I… actually pessimistic?"
He wandered the outskirts of the village, trying his best not to attract attention — and failing miserably. Small towns were like that: any unfamiliar face was instantly the talk of the town.
Then, out of nowhere, a hunched old woman waved at him. Tiny, wrinkled, and draped in a patched shawl, she gestured for him to come closer with a crooked finger.
"Alright… Either the witch is gonna offer me a poisoned apple, or she's a kind granny. Worth the gamble."
Veigar approached cautiously, keeping his head low.
"If I'm basically a beggar right now, I might as well act like one."
He brought his hands together, mimicking the universal sign for sleep, and pointed to the side of her house.The old woman responded with a string of unfamiliar syllables.
"⸺Thalen rimost ai'ke vel… sinar du'lor?"
Veigar just smiled awkwardly and shrugged, then made a big show of not understanding.The woman's expression softened. She turned, shuffled to her door, opened it — and beckoned him inside.
Veigar panicked slightly.
"Nononono, no need for all that, I can sleep on the dirt, really."
But the old lady gently took his hand and pulled him in.Inside was a small, dim house, barely lit by flickering candles. The floor creaked with every step. Dust clung to shelves. Everything was old… but warm.
She led him to the kitchen and began preparing something with vegetables — chopped roots, herbs, a hint of salt.Veigar watched for a moment, then joined in to help.
"No meat? Guess I shouldn't complain. It's free food… probably."
They made a silent duo, working in rhythm despite the lack of shared language.The old woman moved slowly, but with practiced grace. Veigar chopped what looked like a very confused carrot while she stirred a battered iron pot over a firepit that hissed softly in the corner.
When the soup began to boil, it filled the room with an earthy, almost nostalgic aroma — the kind that made you think of warm blankets and rainy days, even if you'd never actually lived that memory. Veigar smiled, not out of happiness, but from the sheer absurdity of it all.
"Day one in magic land, and I'm making soup with a mysterious granny. Alright. Sure." He thought without saying anything.
After dinner, the old woman gestured toward a small room in the back. It was dim, barely large enough for a single straw mattress and a crate posing as a nightstand. The walls were thin. The window had no glass, only wooden shutters that didn't quite close. A single candle flickered in the corner.
She motioned again — a soft tap to the mattress, then a pat on her own shoulder as if saying: Rest, child.
Veigar hesitated, then nodded. He stepped into the room, gave a polite bow of thanks, and gently closed the wooden plank that passed for a door.
No lock. Of course.
"At least I won't be rude and die in her house. That would be awkward."
He sat on the mattress, stared at the candlelight for a while, then sighed.
But he didn't sleep.
The stars outside were too bright. His thoughts, too loud. And then there was that lingering energy — the pulse he had felt earlier, as if the world itself was humming beneath his skin.
"Alright… if this is an isekai, then there has to be cultivation."
He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Focus the dantian.
Cycle the qi.
Visualize the meridians.
Inhale again.
Exhale harder.
...
"Am I doing this wrong? Should I try the nine-stage breathing technique? No wait, that's from another novel... maybe dual cultivation—no, bad idea."
He tried posture after posture, method after method.
Still nothing. Until...
The world around him went quiet.
The noise in his head, the anxiety, the rushing thoughts… stopped.
For a brief moment, he felt connected. To the wind. The grass. The candlelight still flickering through the old woman's window. And then — warmth.
A tiny spark in his chest.
It pulsed.
Then again.
"Wait… is this mana?"
And then...
[Mana threshold reached. Initializing system core…]
Veigar's eyes widened.
A glowing interface flickered into existence before him. Floating glyphs danced briefly before forming words he could finally read.
"Oh my god. It's real. IT'S REAL."
The screen blinked again.
[System Online.]
[Welcome, Veigar.]
"Took you long enough!"
[Calculating compatibility… syncing mana pathways…]
"Okay, okay, calm down. No pressure. We can do this. System, do I have any abilities? Can I shoot fireballs? Can I speak the damn language yet?"
[Request processed. Language comprehension skill unlocked.]
"Bless you."
Suddenly, a new alert appeared:
[New Quest: "Uninvited Guests"]
[Defeat the Invaders (0/3)]
[Reward: ???]
"Wait—what?"
Then he heard the creak of the front door. Voices.
Footsteps.
He peeked around the corner and saw the old woman… talking to three shady-looking men. They held ropes. Shackles. One of them was even laughing.
"…She sold me? Are you kidding me?! Even the grannies are evil in this world?!"
[Alert: Hostile intent detected.]
The door opened. The men stepped inside slowly, confidently. One of them cracked his knuckles.
"Alright, kid. Make this easy and we won't hurt ya—"
A burst of blue light pulsed from Veigar's chest.
Instinctively, he raised his hand — and a small arc of energy shot forward, slamming into the man's face and knocking him backwards into a stack of crates.
"…Okay that was cool. What did I just do?"
[You used mana. Congratulations.]
"That's not helpful!"
"System, how do I beat them?! They're three! I'm one! I have no training!"
[You are the future Supreme Mage. Use your mana.]
"…SYSTEM, EXPLAIN HOW TO USE MANA."
[Good luck, Veigar. I believe in you.]
"WAIT, WHAT?! DON'T YOU DARE—"
The screen blinked out.