"NOOOO!"
At a campfire, a scream came from one of the Caravans parked on the side of the camp. The kids around all looked towards the caravan, then slowly started laughing.
"Haha! I guess that idiot woke up!"
"Yeah, It turns out his head is harder than a donkey's head"
"Hahaha! That bastard got me worried for a second there, I thought he died"
"If he died, you and the others would have been kicked out"
"That was risky, we should avoid the head next time!"
"Next time? Hahaha you're still planning on beating that kid?"
"Of course! What else is there to do for entertainment around here?" A blond hair blue eyed kid smiled, he was wearing a comfortable linen robe with fur, underneath one can see he had the physique of an athlete, most of the kids in this specific group did, with some even having swords, but their faces displayed youth, as their ages ranged from 12 to 15 years old, this was a physique only obtainable by those who practice the Knight's breathing technique.
"I can't believe the Magus lords agreed to test that peasant, and he actually had Wizard Talent" One of the kids spoke.
"He got lucky, somehow managed to get his hands on those gold coins.. How did a peasant even manage to get gold coins?"
"Probably stole them, like he did when he tried to steal Corina's Spirit Stone"
"He probably figured out that to get admitted to the Noctis Arcanum Academy, he needed to pay 3 Spirit Stone an an admission fee or serve for a year"
***
"What the fuck happened to me?" A dark haired boy, covered in bruises and dried red spots on his tattered clothes looked around. "I remember I was about to get hit by a car, and then… I can't remember anything!!" The boy sat down on the floor of the caravan, although uncomfortable, he was too numb to feel anything. He sat there for a while, lost in his own thoughts, before slowly, he started feeling stabs of pain all over him, as if his body was slowly recovering.
Arthur focused again with the pain, as he started checking himself, looking at his state, and where he was, his confusion increased. That was when a strong headache assaulted him, causing him to moan in pain, he held his head for a while, before everything suddenly stopped, and the confusion was done.
"So that's how it is!" Arthur smiled in self mockery, he shook his head, and started feeling around his scalp for any life threatening injury. "This kid is really… daring!" The memories of the owner of the body hit him, which was the cause of the headache, and he realised what happened. "Who would have thought that transmigration was actually a thing?" He sat up, and although his body was aching all over, managed to drag himself to the bench and sit down, closing his eyes, as if trying to relax his throbbing head and arranging the memories he had just received.
This boy, sharing his name, was 13 years old, a peasant from a farmer household. Although they were at the bottom, they were still better off than other peasants. The farm his father owned himself and he provided for the local baron, the produce was decent and in respectable amounts so they never starved or were in need of anything.
Their family was not large, it was Arthur, his older brother William, and his father and mother, Gregore and Elisa.
Arthur was the youngest, so he was destined to work in the farm that his older brother would inherit later from their father. This slightly upset Arthur, the boy was ambitious and slightly too bold.
At 10 years old he kept pestering the town's guards to teach him how to use a sword, which they reluctantly agreed to after he showed up every day for a month, constantly bothering them.
He started his sword training with the guards at that time, and later, after a year and managing to get a hold of the basics, which was the best he could hope for from a small town's guard barracks, he moved to the captain, begging him to take him as his disciple and teach him the Knight breathing technique.
This part is what caught the new Arthur's interest, which was the supernatural aspect of this world. From what little knowledge he managed to get from the previous owner, was that the Knight Breathing Techniques allowed the user to not only grow stronger faster than ordinary folk, but also to harden their bodies in a way that didn't seem natural. The guards had spoken of it in hushed tones—how proper breathing, timed with training, could let a man swing a sword for hours without tiring, or take a blow that would break another's bones and keep standing.
There were even rumors, vague and likely exaggerated, that once someone reached a certain level, they could move faster, hit harder, and heal quicker. Some even claimed knights could sense danger before it happened, or break rocks with their fists. But for a peasant boy like Arthur, those were distant tales—dreams whispered around campfires or drunkenly boasted about by veterans in the tavern.
Still, the idea that breathing a certain way, in rhythm with one's movements, could make the body stronger… It fascinated him. It was the first glimpse he had of something beyond the ordinary, beyond the dirt and sweat of farm life.
The Guard captain, as expected, rejected the boy, and after his endless begging, he threatened to throw him in the dungeon, which seemed to scare the boy and no longer bothered him.
Arthur sighed, as he finished organizing the rest of the memories. Long story short, the boy later managed to sneak into the Guard captain's office, as was said, he was bold, and the word ambitious would be an understatement. He slowly rummaged through the office at his leager, knowing the captain and a team of guards left on a mission to a nearby village, so he looked through the office, in every drawer and cabinet, but found nothing that he wanted, until, with some stroke of luck, he bumped into the desk, and after hearing something click, he opened the drawer again, finding a hidden compartment with not only a small book, but some gold coins.
"He was a little thief" Arthur shook his head, then laughed at what happened after, the boy, taking the gold and book back home, hid the gold coins in a hole behind their home, and the book inside a tree hole in the forest not too far away, but what was funny to Arthur was that, when the boy opened the book, he remembered something… He couldn't read.
"He was bold, strong willed, ambitious, and a thief.." Arthur thought, "But, a bit stupid!" Forgetting that you can't read was the funniest thing Arthur had seen, and after finding out he couldn't read the book, he asked his father to help him get reading lessons, which the man agreed to after seeing his son's willingness to learn.
The lessons were expensive, at least to a farmer, but he still took his son.
Unfortunately, or unsurprisingly, the boy was a slow learner, which after a week, the teacher advised him to quit.
"Not a surprise, the boy was obviously a bit foolish" Arthur thought. But what happened after was recent. Rumors of a group of Academy Wizards were in the nearby city, recruiting. These people were mysterious, and tales were told of them, most legendary and unbelievable, but Arthur, hearing this, had another bold idea.
In the city center, in a larger area that looked a bit Medieval and Victorian, walked the boy and his father. Although Gregore, his father, did not understand why his son would want to come with him in his delivery run to the city, he agreed.
"He is a liar and a bit manipulative" Arthur did not like the boy's personality, he shook his head, not liking what happened after that.
The boy snuck away, with the gold he stole from the guard captain, and managed to get in line at the Baron's manor for the recruitment, although as he looked around, he saw many kids around his age in better clothing and background, he didn't care, the fee itself wasn't something anyone could afford, so he understood that he was probably the only peasant here, so he ignored their condescending glares, and with his head down, managed to reach the end of the line after a while.
He paid a powerful looking knight in dark armor, and although he was obviously a peasant, he wasn't kicked out, most likely a condition from the Wizards that all must have a fair chance, although the manor guards looked like they were waiting for the smallest reason to move and kick him out
He was tested by a middle aged man in what looked like a simple robe and a young lady, looking like she was in her late twenties, and behind them stood a few kids, ecstatic and joyful, most likely were successfully recruited.
"From the memory, the testing had been going since morning, and with the long line, how could there be only 6 kids?" Arthur muttered to himself, but the reason was simple, the Wizard Talent wasn't common at all.
The boy put his hands on the orb, just like the others before him.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, a flicker—deep red, like embers stirred in the dark, followed by streaks of black swirling underneath the surface like smoke in oil. The colors pulsed faintly at first, then intensified, forming a quiet storm inside the crystal sphere.
The boy didn't understand what it meant. He'd seen others go before him—some orbs stayed dim and cold, others lit up faintly with soft hues: pale green, weak yellow, a watery blue. Most of those had been turned away with a simple shake of the head or an indifferent gesture. Only a handful had colors that glowed steadily, and they were told to step aside and wait.
When the orb reacted to him, though, the robed man's eyes narrowed slightly—not in confusion, but in scrutiny. He leaned forward, exchanged a quiet word with the young woman beside him, who raised a brow before giving a slow nod.
No explanation was offered to the boy. Just a hand gesture to step aside and wait at the far end—among those who had passed, but the people around wore either surprised, envious, or angry expressions.
Arthur, watching the memory unfold in silence, frowned.
"What did that even mean?" he muttered. "Red and black? That's… different."
The memory didn't give him an answer, but it was clear the boy hadn't been kicked out. No one questioned his ragged clothes or his status as a peasant. He had paid, he had touched the orb, and whatever they saw in those colors—it was enough.
Enough to be chosen.
Arthur sat back and crossed his arms. "So he got in… with stolen gold and blind luck."
What happened after was a cliche of a peasant leaving his tattered status and into something different, something seen in many novels.
From memory, the testing/recruitment took a whole week, but what happened in that week made the boy feel like he finally made it.
Not only was he given quality clothing and an all round update to his looks, he even received a badge of sorts by the maids that day, given to him by the Wizards.
Later, after finding his father, who was worried sick looking for him, and explaining what happened, left him stunned.
Gregore didn't speak at first. The man just stood there, jaw slack, eyes darting between his son's unfamiliar clothes and the badge pinned to his chest—a polished emblem with a strange symbol, the kind only nobles or educated folks might recognize.
"You snuck away…" the man finally muttered, voice thick with disbelief. "You spent gold we didn't have… and now you say you're going to become a—what? A Wizard?"
The boy nodded, still high from the rush of it all. "I passed the test. They chose me. They said I'll leave with them in a week."
Gregore looked as if he might fall over.
But the boy kept talking—about how they cleaned him up, how the robed man called his affinity "notable," how he saw other kids being sent away but he was kept. He told him everything, except for where the gold came from. That detail stayed buried.
The next day, a steward from the Baron's manor came to their small home on the edge of the village. He brought documents, a sealed letter with the Baron's crest, and an official escort.
The Baron, it seemed, had taken an interest in all those selected. Whether it was to get on the good side of a future Wizard or it was for the Academy Wizards, Arthur didn't know, but the boy's family would be elevated in status. A larger farm was assigned to them, closer to the heart of the territory. Farmhands—three of them—were provided by the Baron himself. The family no longer needed to toil from dawn to dusk just to get by.
Gregore tried to refuse at first—too proud, too old-fashioned. But when Elisa, tears in her eyes, took his hand and whispered about a better future for William, for their grandchildren, he relented.
They moved the following day.
Arthur, remembering it all now, almost scoffed.
"A cliche," he muttered again, watching the memory of the boy in new boots, sitting at a dinner table surrounded by a feast his mother cooked. "A stolen book, a stolen chance… and now the whole family lives like minor nobles."
But a strange feeling gnawed at him—envy, perhaps. Not for the status or comfort, but for the simplicity of it. For the way that naive boy looked at the world with wide, hopeful eyes.
The final memory before their departure played out slowly. The night before he was to leave, the boy stood outside, staring at the stars. His mother wrapped a scarf around his neck, hands lingering just a little too long on his shoulders.
"You make us proud, little one," she whispered. "You always dreamed big."
Gregore stood in the doorway, arms crossed. His silence wasn't cold, just heavy. "Remember where you come from," he said gruffly, then turned back inside. That was his father's personality, although ruff around the edges, but it was obvious to Arthur that he loved his family very much.
William, the boy's older brother, didn't speak to him that night, but the boy saw him help his mother pack his stuff, even sneakily putting a coin purse in his bag.
"Like father like son" Arthur smiled at the quirky family.
At dawn, the boy left.
He didn't cry, didn't look back. His steps were steady, his heart full of reckless hope.
Arthur opened his eyes, the memory fading. He breathed out slowly.
"Bold," he murmured. "But still just a child." He said, looking at the pool of blood on the caravan floor, which obviously belonged to the boy. "He heard that to enter as an apprentice in the academy, he needed 3 Spirit stones, or he would have to be a servant for a year before entering… So he tried to get some Spirit stones, through theft of course, and got caught by the girl, which then ended up with a very rough beating by a group of boys.."
Arthur took a deep breath, although he was still shocked by his death and transmigration, he pushed it down for now, he reached for the caravan door and pushed it open, seeing the kids lining up to the person distributing the food, he was a burly man who looked like an iron tower. He was dressed in black and had an ugly mark on his face. He saw the kids each taking their food. "I'll have to deal with that later, I am starving!"