The shattered wood sent wide leaves flying from the surrounding bushes.
A small tree, roughly 30 centimeters in diameter, was snapped clean in half.
The stone, carrying immense kinetic energy, tore through the tree and continued its flight for over fifty meters before slamming into a mound, sending up a plume of dust before vanishing.
"This power… it's almost on par with a sniper shot."
Páng kè stared at the broken stump, his expression one of surprise.
According to the system's analysis, this Secondary Catapult spell consumed less than one-tenth of his total magic power, which fully recovered in just three seconds.
Páng kè knew his regeneration speed was above average for a wizard, but not by much—just a mere one or two percent faster.
Which meant…
"The power level of this world is incredibly high.
This is just a low-level spell—how strong must high-level magic be?"
Unconsciously, his determination to grow stronger solidified.
Páng kè continued practicing, refining his spellcasting.
After multiple attempts, he finally compressed the casting time of several spells to under two seconds.
These spells granted him a diverse and flexible arsenal, particularly Sub-Magic Armor.
According to the system, its defensive strength was no weaker than a three-centimeter-thick steel plate.
Now, with both offensive and defensive power rivaling that of an armored vehicle, he had enough means to ensure his survival.
It was time to begin his journey.
First objective—find a village.
Páng kè had no intention of becoming a reclusive mage.
The knowledge left by his parents was sufficient for a formal-level wizard, but continued learning and interaction were crucial.
However, he had no idea how vast this jungle was or how far he was from civilization.
On the Faerun Plane, vast land and sparse populations were more than just rumors.
Páng kè had no desire to waste months wandering through this damp, endless jungle.
Fortunately, prophecy magic was always a reliable guide for lost travelers.
Digging through his memory, he found an appropriate spell.
Though only at the apprentice level, its information-gathering ability was sufficient for his needs.
As long as the information he sought wasn't magically shielded and the divination's target held no unusual power, this Internal Divination spell should suffice.
Páng kè glanced down at the ground.
The pile of indistinguishable, bloodied flesh was… once a rabbit.
He was momentarily stunned.
"Sure enough, magic isn't suited for hunting..."
His plan had been simple—find a small animal and "borrow" its viscera.
While more advanced creatures yielded better results in visceral divination, a rabbit was all he could find.
"System analysis recommends using Manually Throw Stones to capture small mammals."
"...Shut up."
As it turned out, the system was right.
Now, Páng kè stood in a small clearing, holding a rabbit by its ears.
The creature, sensing impending doom, kicked and struggled in a futile attempt to escape.
But even if Páng kè was a mage, he wasn't about to let a mere rabbit slip away.
With a silver knife retrieved from his pocket, he swiftly sliced open the rabbit's belly.
The system's precise assistance ensured the blade cut through skin and muscle without damaging the organs.
Muttering an obscure incantation, Páng kè began the ritual.
Visceral divination worked by using an animal's organs to establish a link with its soul, amplifying his own connection to the hidden mysteries of the world.
The weaker the soul's presence, the less effective the spell.
As the chant neared completion, his vision clouded over with mist.
The emerald jungle blurred, and a sticky sensation slithered into his mind, stirring as if something ancient sought to communicate.
Then, the message appeared in his thoughts—
*"Travel west for half a day to reach a small river.
Follow it downstream for another half-day, and you will find villages and towns."*
The fog lifted, the sticky sensation dissipating in an instant.
When he came back to himself, he found he was squatting on the ground, his staff discarded nearby.
Worse still, his hands were raised, clutching a mass of rabbit entrails… as if he had been about to smear them on his face.
Frowning, he let the organs fall.
No wonder this magic belonged to the evil alignment—it felt profoundly unnatural to cast.
The principles behind it were likely developed by a master-level mage, yet even an apprentice could use it.
Just like a child wielding a firearm, the operation was simple, but the underlying mystery remained beyond comprehension.
"Even low-level magic is full of such depth…
This world is fascinating."
Excitement burned in his chest.
With a casual flick of his fingers, he cast Magic Decontamination.
The tainted blood covering his hands was converted into etheric energy and dispersed.
Within seconds, his skin was clean once more.
He carved a few pieces of fat from the rabbit and tucked them into his robe's many hidden pockets.
The twitching corpse, still on the ground, was ignored.
Ever since birth, his preference for fruits and vegetables had far outweighed any taste for meat—an instinct inherited from his ancient elven bloodline.
Enveloping himself in Sub-Magic Armor and activating a See-Through spell (useful for spotting enemies through thin obstacles, though prone to unintended wall-peeking), Páng kè turned westward.
"Only a cautious wizard survives long in this world," he mused.
The jungle wasn't as vast as he had feared.
Within two or three hours, he reached its edge, stepping onto the transitional land where the trees gave way to plains.
Thanks to the system's navigation, he maintained his western heading without deviation.
Twin suns rose from the southwest, casting long shadows as they climbed toward the northeast.
The grass beneath his boots crunched, its texture tougher than expected.
Now was the Tender Season—one of six distinct seasons in Faerun.
The morning dew soaked into his boots, but he paid it no mind, striding forward with light steps, staff in hand.
Pushing his pace, he reached the prophesized river by midday.
It was less of a river and more of a super-sized stream, barely four meters across and shallow enough to reveal the pebble-covered bottom.
The water, untouched by industrial pollution, was crystal clear.
However, there were no fish.
Aside from a few slender, horned creatures darting through the current, the river was eerily still.
The entire scene radiated an air of elegance and quiet.
But…
"Tch. Looks like I need to clean up some pests before I can enjoy the scenery."
His gaze locked onto a particularly large bush near the riverbank—one that looked far too unnatural.
Through the See-Through spell, faint magical radiance pulsed behind the dense foliage.
Something was there.