Returning to the cabin, Ronan pulled up his character panel.
[Name: Ronan Damien]
[Age: 16]
[Talent: No Attribute Affinity]
[Strength: Second-level Wizard Apprentice (25%)]
[Skills: Basic Meditation Technique (Mastery 27/400)
Energy Missile (Expert 72/800)
Charging Weapon (Proficiency 23/200)
Rune Engraving - Clean (Entry-level 87/100)]
In less than a month's time, Ronan's progress in strength had advanced by eleven percent, and the speed of his spiritual power growth had increased significantly.
The reason was the improvement in proficiency of the Basic Meditation Technique.
Mastery level in Basic Meditation Technique yielded much better results than before during meditation.
It seemed as if he had entered a deeper level of meditative state.
Now, whenever Ronan meditated, the point of light in the void of darkness in his mind shone ever brighter, and its spinning traces became clearer, as if creating ripples on a pitch-black water surface.
"If the proficiency of the[Basic Meditation Technique]keeps improving, can my meditation efficiency compare with those gifted wizards with exceptional talents?
It could close the gap substantially on the level of magical talent..." Ronan anticipated silently.
The practice of [Energy Missile]has not slackened, and its proficiency has successfully broken through to "Expert" level.
After reaching "Expert," the power of[Energy Missile]surged again, strong enough that it hardly seemed like a Low Zero Rank Level Magic.
His casting speed increased once more, now Ronan needed just over a second to cast an Energy Missile.
However, raising the proficiency after reaching "Expert" became much more difficult, previously one or two casts could increase proficiency slightly, but now it required four to five casts to increase by one point.
To Ronan, it felt as if the fragmented insights gained from a single casting were too few, needing to accumulate to a certain extent before proficiency would increase by even a little.
As the spell's power grew and casting speed quickened, naturally his combat effectiveness soared, and Ronan's confidence rode high on the rising tide.
Ronan felt that he currently lacked actual combat experience; aside from various small animals in the forest, he had no experience in fighting with others.
In order to adequately prepare for the inevitable day, Ronan was considering what he could practice with to brush up on real combat experience.
As for[Charging Weapon], there's nothing much to say; after casually practicing it to a proficiency level, Ronan stopped paying attention to it.
The proficiency of the [Clean] Rune had significantly improved.
After entry-level, Ronan discovered that even if he failed the engraving... failing multiple times would still grant him a slight increase in proficiency.
Unknowingly, high-intensity rune engraving activities were about to fill up the entry-level proficiency.
Thinking of this, Ronan subconsciously stood up and walked over to an old wooden chest in the corner of the room and opened it.
Pushing aside a bunch of random, miscellaneous stuff deliberately used as a disguise on the top layer, underneath were neatly arranged twenty-one[Clean]runes.
"Charging seventy-five Magic Stone grains each, selling all twenty-one would net me a full sixteen low-level Magic Stones!"
Sixteen low-level Magic Stones!
A figure Ronan once dared not even dream of, was now about to be within reach, needing only to take a trip to the market when he had time, to exchange the Rune Stones for Magic Stones...
If it weren't for the fact that the Rune Stones before his eyes were all painstakingly saved up one by one over the past month, Ronan would almost doubt if he was dreaming.
"Being able to earn nearly sixteen low-level Magic Stones in one month, and that's just by selling the most basic[Clean]runes... The profession of a Rune Master is indeed profitable..." Ronan couldn't help but marvel.
Looking at the large pile of Rune Stones in front of him, he silently calculated in his heart.
"Once the Magic Stones are in hand, I'll go rent a place with a workshop in town, move out from the Tree House District, then switch to a better rune carving knife; the current one is almost worn flat... and buy a piece of Magic Tool, preferably a Magic Wand, for without a wand in hand, who would look like a wizard..."
Just as Ronan was imagining the various plans he had after obtaining the Magic Stone...
"Cough cough!"
A coughing sound came from outside the house.
Ronan instantly became alert, quickly covering the Rune Stone and putting away the box.
Then, he casually grabbed the flesh-cutting dagger placed on the table, holding it in his hand, and walked step by step towards the outside of the treehouse.
Upon opening the door, Ronan walked out cautiously.
It was deep into the night by then, with scattered glimmers of fireflies floating among the trees. Borrowing the light of the fireflies and the moon, Ronan spotted a figure standing beneath his treehouse.
"Who's there?!"
Beneath his robe, Ronan's hand holding the dagger slowly lifted; his palm was already beginning to sweat, and he felt somewhat nervous.
But soon, a voice he recognized came from below.
"Ronan, it's me."
Old Wells?!
What could he possibly want by coming to see me so late?
Their relationship hadn't reached the point where one could just drop by the other's house late at night for a visit, right?
Ronan was startled, his tense nerves somewhat relaxed, but he did not completely let down his guard.
Leaning over the edge of the branch, he looked down at Old Wells to inquire about the reason for his night visit, not expecting Old Wells to reply somberly, "I came to inform you that Porter is dead."
"What?! Porter's dead?!"
Ronan was shocked.
After his initial astonishment, confusion and cluelessness appeared on his face.
Speaking of which... who was Porter again?
.....
In the tranquil woods, a group of people in long robes were holding torches, forming a circle.
Under the flickering torchlight stirred by the wind, the cold body of a middle-aged man lay.
The man wore a dark green robe, his expression ferocious and twisted, revealing the immense pain he must have suffered before death.
A blond little girl, about five or six years old, lay on the body, crying until she was a mess of tears.
Standing among the crowd, Ronan looked at the weeping girl with a gaze filled with sympathy and reluctance but showed little emotional fluctuation upon seeing the deceased.
The reactions of those around him were mostly the same as his, oh no... actually, they were much more indifferent than he was.
The dead man was named Porter, whom Ronan could just about say he recognized, having encountered each other a few times in the woods.
This man had lived in the Tree House District for many years with his daughter, leading a solitary life with hardly any friends.
Now that he had died suddenly, those who came to the funeral were basically "neighbors" from nearby.
"...may truth guide you, may your soul rest in the Village of Peace..."
Old Wells stood next to the deceased Porter and his daughter, holding an ebony wand and solemnly reciting the eulogy.
After the recitation, Old Wells uttered the syllables of a Magic Spell, summoning an orange-red fireball the size of a ping-pong ball. The body started burning vigorously under the moonlight.
The little girl's cries grew louder, and all the Wizards bowed their heads in a moment of silence...
After the brief funeral, Old Wells began to speak to each person one by one.
Ronan didn't know what Old Wells was saying; he only saw each Wizard being spoken to first fall silent, then shake their heads and turn away, disappearing into the darkness.
"Ronan."
Finally, Old Wells approached Ronan.
Ronan nodded, waiting for Old Wells to speak.
"Porter has died, leaving his daughter Cheryl with no one to take care of her, would you be willing to adopt her?"