As the world-renowned City of Fog, London's sky was perpetually gray, especially at night, when even the streetlights offered only feeble illumination.
In this dim environment, several stray cats rummaged through a trash can in a secluded alley, searching for their dinner.
Suddenly, bursts of dull red light flashed in the sky above the unnamed alley, startling the foraging cats.
The little felines scattered in terror, darting into whatever hiding spots they considered safe.
After the dull red light flickered a few more times, the very space twisted like a crumpled sheet of paper. With a sound like tearing cloth, a blood-soaked figure was violently squeezed out of the void.
"Cough… cough… cough… I finally escaped…"
The figure staggered two steps, steadied himself against the wall, and looked around.
The surrounding buildings were completely unfamiliar, yet they carried a faint, eerie sense of déjà vu.
"Where the hell am I?"
Cameron Drake stared in confusion at the buildings that felt both alien and strangely familiar. His eyes were filled with bewilderment.
The architectural style belonged to neither the Arcane Federation he had come from nor any of the other human nations, and it certainly didn't resemble elven, dwarven, or any other racial designs he knew.
It looked… somewhat like the modern style from before he had transmigrated.
Wait… this *was* the architectural style from before he transmigrated!
Cameron's mouth fell slightly open. For a moment, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
*Damn it, the timing is all wrong, you bastard!*
If this had happened before he was mortally wounded, returning to his original world would have been a dream come true. But now he was severely injured, his internal mana nearly depleted, making it impossible to use magic to heal himself.
"Damn it… why throw me back into this world without magic at a time like this!"
Cameron slowly slid down the wall until he sat on the cold ground. Despair flooded his heart.
Cameron Drake was a transmigrator. His original death had been ordinary: a serious illness, incurable, and he had died on the operating table.
So when he opened his eyes again and found himself reborn as a baby in a world of swords and magic, he had felt immensely fortunate.
Not only had he received a second life, but he also gained access to real magic—the stuff that had only existed in fantasy on Earth. No matter how he looked at it, he had hit the jackpot.
He had been born in the Grand Duchy of Lancaster, part of the Arcane Federation.
The Arcane Federation was a union of several smaller nations. Each nation was led not by a king, but by a powerful mage who had earned the title of Archmage. The Mage Council, formed by these Archmages, served as the true governing body of the Federation.
Under this structure, children in the Arcane Federation received magical education from a young age, and Cameron—despite being a commoner born in the countryside—was no exception.
Although he lacked the Systems found in so many novels or any special bloodline cheat, his adult mindset and Earth knowledge still allowed him to become a renowned magical prodigy at an early age.
After making a name for himself, he was quickly accepted into the National Mage Academy of the Grand Duchy of Lancaster, becoming a promising magic apprentice.
Cameron seized the opportunity, devouring magical knowledge at a ferocious pace and earning the rank of Three-Rune Mage while still young.
In the Arcane Federation, mages were divided into seven ranks. Excluding the entry-level Magic Apprentice and the pinnacle Archmage (who stood outside the ranking), they ranged from One-Rune to Five-Rune Mages.
A Three-Rune Mage could already claim a sizable fief and a noble title.
Yet after reaching Three-Rune, Cameron seemed to hit a wall. Without a System or exceptional bloodline, achieving Three-Rune as a commoner was already enough to make him an idol among the lower classes.
Still, he refused to settle. Whether it was the stubborn pride of a transmigrator or his obsessive pursuit of magic, Cameron never relaxed. After gaining his title and territory, he spent most of his time holed up conducting magical research, only occasionally completing Federation tasks for funding and materials.
Through relentless effort, he advanced step by step to Five-Rune Mage and eventually earned a seat on the Arcane Federation's Mage Council—though by then he was already an old man over two hundred years old.
The power of magic had granted him a far longer life than ordinary humans. Even at over two centuries, he still appeared middle-aged. But his lifespan was now approaching its end.
Cameron, whose life flickered like a candle in the wind, did not fear death. What he could not let go of were the unsolved mysteries of magic. He wanted to advance further and see the view that awaited an Archmage.
Unfortunately, becoming an Archmage was no longer something effort alone could achieve; it required immense natural talent. Born a commoner, Cameron had never possessed outstanding magical aptitude. Reaching Five-Rune had already stunned the world. Archmage was nearly impossible.
Moreover, he had only a few years left.
Over his two centuries as a mage, he had tried every method imaginable to enhance his talent. The results had been modest at best—nowhere near enough to reach Archmage in his remaining time.
Unwilling to give up, he scoured the great libraries, digging through obscure and unverified secrets until he found repeated references to a genuine elven treasure said to greatly enhance magical affinity.
The information was fragmented and imprecise. After discarding fabrications and contradictions, Cameron could only confirm that the elves possessed a treasure crafted from fragments of the World Tree's crystal, one that dramatically boosted magic affinity.
Its exact appearance, name, and method of use remained unknown. All he knew was that it likely emitted a gentle white light and gave off an irresistible aura of closeness.
With time running out, Cameron clung to this possibly mythical treasure as his final lifeline. He sold everything he owned, purchased expensive magical equipment and high-grade items—including Invisibility Rings, Spatial Teleportation Scrolls, and Defense Talismans—and maneuvered his way into a Federation diplomatic delegation.
Once inside the elven royal capital, he seized an opportunity to sneak into the Elven Treasury.
The moment he entered, the treasury's anti-theft magic detected him.
Elven guards rushed in. Cameron desperately hurled magical items to stall them while frantically searching for the mysterious treasure.
Just as he was about to collapse, he found it: a completely transparent, irregularly shaped crystal radiating a gentle white light that made people instinctively want to draw near.
Severely wounded and with no time left, Cameron grabbed the crystal and forcefully activated every spatial item he carried, tearing open a rift in the anti-magic field of the treasury before plunging inside.
Unexpectedly, the chaotic spatial teleportation had flung him back to Earth.
"Meow…"
The sudden meow from deep in the alley snapped Cameron out of his deathbed reverie.
"Damn it! I almost died right here!"
Having come this far, he refused to give up. He gathered the last scraps of mana in his body and cast the weakest healing spell he could manage—barely stronger than a novice apprentice's.
Though feeble, the spell restored a flicker of vitality. He tried drawing mana from the air and, to his surprise, actually sensed it.
However, the flow of mana on Earth was far slower and thinner than in the other world. In his current state, he couldn't absorb enough to cast a healing spell powerful enough to save himself.
"It looks like I have to gamble…"
Trembling, Cameron pulled the elven treasure—the one he had traded his entire fortune and old life for—from his tattered robe. He channeled the tiny amount of mana he had just gathered and poured it into the crystal.
As mana flowed in, the crystal, which had lost its luster, began to glow faintly with white light once more. Though weak, the glow brought a comforting warmth like a mother's embrace, easing his body that had grown cold from blood loss.
Deciding to go all-in, Cameron frantically absorbed the surrounding mana and funneled every drop into the crystal.
As he poured power into it, the crystal fed information back to him.
Its true nature matched the records in part. It was indeed made from World Tree crystal fragments and possessed the ability to greatly enhance magical affinity, along with benefits such as increased lifespan, strengthened physique, and sharpened wisdom.
Most of these effects, however, were oriented toward Nature magic. Other schools received a boost, but nothing dramatically stronger than the methods he had tried before.
In other words, even if he successfully bonded with this Heart of Nature, he still wouldn't become an Archmage. The pinnacle of Nature magic carried its own exclusive title: Grand Druid.
"…Forget it. It's just a change of specialization. As long as I can survive, that's enough."
With no other choice, Cameron consoled himself. Fortunately, druidic spells differed from standard magecraft. While they had conventional spells, most were awakened individually through affinity with nature's flora and fauna—saving him the trouble of relearning everything from scratch.
As he continued channeling mana, the white light on the Heart of Nature grew brighter. The halo expanded, and the crystal gradually lost its solid form, transforming into a floating white orb of light above his palm.
By now Cameron was completely spent. Though the orb grew brighter, his vision dimmed and his body grew heavier. Still, having staked everything, he could only stare fixedly at the white light in his right hand. According to the crystal's feedback, he had to wait until the orb shrank into a smooth, round luminous bead before he could swallow it.
Just when he felt he could hold on no longer, the ball of light suddenly swelled, then rapidly contracted inward, quickly forming a perfect, smooth bead that emitted a gentle white glow.
"Hahaha… surviving a great calamity is sure to bring future blessings!"
Reborn from the brink of death, Cameron was overjoyed. Using the last ounce of his strength, he lifted the bead toward his mouth.
At that exact moment, a small gray shadow darted out from some unseen corner, flashed past his blurring vision, and snatched the glowing bead from his hand.
"Meow~"
The last thing Cameron heard before losing consciousness was that somewhat childish meow.