Translator: CinderTL “So this is my golden finger…” Zellier scratched his head.
The attributes were categorized into Basic, Advanced, and Ultimate, each helpfully annotated.
Based on the average human standard of 60 points, his Basic attributes were quite solid.
As a mage, his Spirit and Intelligence—the most crucial attributes—weren’t lacking at all; in fact, they even exceeded the average, which was good news.
For Advanced attributes, each point increase cost 2 points, so the average should be halved to 30, right?
A Perception score of 30 was decent, but the Charm score of 45 was definitely noteworthy.
Was this because the original owner’s character model was particularly attractive?
And then there was Luck.
This mystical attribute was classified as an Ultimate attribute, requiring 4 points per increase.
Based on weighted averages, the average Luck score should be around 15, yet his panel showed an astonishing 41 points—even surpassing his Perception.
This was a bit of an exaggeration…
Could he truly be the chosen one?
Next, Zellier shifted his gaze to the talent skill section at the bottom of the panel.
A mage’s talent skill unlocks upon leveling up.
Two options were presented: Option 1: Spell Surge Based on a percentage of your spirit attribute, this skill increases your maximum mana storage, mana regeneration rate, and spell potency, making your mage’s foundation as solid as bedrock.
“Firepower!
Justice!” Option 2: Formulaic Evolution This skill allows you to analyze the structure of any visible magic formula and replicate it for your own use.
However, the analysis speed is tied to your intelligence attribute.
The higher your intelligence, the faster the analysis.
The complexity of the formula structure also affects the progress.
“Your magic is impressive, but in the next moment, it will be mine.” Zellier stroked his chin, pondering.
Comparing them, one seemed like a stat monster, while the other resembled a mechanic monster…
Choosing Spell Surge would enhance his mana sustain and spell potency, both core attributes for a mage.
But formulaic evolution…
Even from the description alone, it was clear that formulaic evolution was an invaluable skill.
In this otherworld, learning magic required purchasing expensive magic scrolls.
Some rare types of magic were priceless, with scrolls nearly impossible to obtain.
By choosing formulaic evolution, Zellier could analyze the formula structure simply by witnessing others cast spells—a truly divine skill.
However, the analysis speed was tied to intelligence…
This meant he needed to prioritize intelligence when allocating stat points.
According to the system panel, intelligence and charm were strongly correlated: four points of intelligence increased charm by one.
Should I become a charming mage?
Zellier shook his head vigorously.
Forget it.
It’s too early to think about that.
Talent skills required upgrades to unlock, so he still needed to find a way to gain more experience points.
To be honest, while mages were considered a noble profession, they required vast resources to pave their way.
A self-taught mage like Zellier, with his humble origins, would be of little practical use until he developed further.
In combat, he was no match for swordsmen; in endurance, he couldn’t withstand blows like the vanguard; in agility, he couldn’t outmaneuver assassins; and until he mastered high-damage spells, his ranged attacks paled in comparison to those of rangers.
Over the past five days, the party had slain a total of twenty-two wild wolves.
Marcus had taken down nine, while Gray and Vales each claimed six.
As for Zellier, he had only managed to kill one.
This was no longer about being an adventurer; Zellier felt more like a middle schooler on a field trip.
He patted his cloth pouch, finding only dried rations and a dagger inside.
If I’d just brought a crossbow, I wouldn’t be stuck with a single kill…
How stupid!
Zellier couldn’t help but mentally berate his past self.
A night breeze swept through, bringing a refreshing chill and a peculiar scent…
The musky stench of wild wolves!
Zellier’s spirit jolted awake.
Instinctively, he roared at the top of his lungs: “Alert!
Guard the camp!” The snores and teeth-grinding from the tent ceased abruptly.
With a few muffled thumps, the curtain was violently thrown open.
Gray charged out first, sword in hand, followed by Marcus and Vales.
In those few seconds, faint green lights gradually emerged from the dark thicket, flickering intermittently.
Zellier clenched his fists.
He knew those weren’t will-o’-the-wisps, but the eyes of wolves.
They were here.
Judging by the position of the eyes, the wild wolves had already formed a semicircle, flanking the team’s rear.
Zellier couldn’t help but feel nervous.
In his previous life, he had only ever killed chickens.
Facing these ferocious wolves in the pitch-black night, he felt a deep sense of unease.
“Don’t panic, kid.
They’re just beasts…” Gray said, his gaze fixed on the thicket as he casually twirled his sword.
“It’s good they came to us.
Saves us the trouble of searching the whole mountain.” Marcus and Vales were also ready.
Marcus stood at the front with his shield raised, while Vales drew his bowstring taut, poised to strike.
The battle erupted instantly—the wolves’ howls and charge exploded simultaneously!
Vales’ eyes narrowed as he aimed at the lead wolf.
With a whoosh, his arrow struck true!
The feathered shaft pierced the wolf’s eye socket, burying itself halfway in its skull.
Blood gushed out as the corpse lurched forward two steps before collapsing heavily to the ground.
At the same moment, Gray and Marcus sprang into action.
“Ha!” With a ferocious roar, Marcus charged forward, immediately drawing the wolves’ attention.
His towering frame gave him an advantage; the wolves would struggle to reach his neck.
Marcus wielded his round shield with impenetrable precision, crushing any wild wolf that dared to pounce.
The beast bones shattered under the force of his blows, followed by the lethal strike of his war blade.
His towering figure moved through the wolf pack like a god of war.
Gray flanked Marcus, his sword skills more than sufficient to handle the wolves.
A swift slash could bisect a wolf in a single strike.
The forest echoed with the wolves’ mournful howls, scattering birds into panicked flight.
Thick, pungent blood splattered across the grass, mingled with fragments of shattered organs.
Marcus and Gray held the front line against the wolves’ onslaught, while Vales provided ranged support with his arrows.
The team’s formation had completely stabilized.
Their combat style began to shift from broad slashes to precise thrusts—after all, the wolves’ pelts were their most valuable asset, and every bit earned counted.
Marcus, Gray, and Vales reveled in the slaughter, while Zellier stood out as the odd man out.
Clutching his dagger, he repeatedly tried to join the fray, only to realize with growing despair that there was simply no place for him.
“Sigh…” Zellier sighed, his heart heavy with frustration.
Well, this is how mages are in the early game.
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