Months had passed since Myrina's departure, and on a cold morning, as I stepped outside, a snowflake landed on my nose.

"So the first snow will soon be upon us," I muttered.

During these past months, significant changes had taken place in the village. Having lost loved ones and with little to occupy ourselves during autumn, I organized the construction of new wooden houses and a protective wall around them.

This meant that not everyone lived in close proximity to their farms anymore, requiring a morning walk to get to their fields. However, they were now safe, and the village square was conveniently at their doorstep for any purchases they might need to make.

Taking in the brisk air, I opened my status page, a habit I had developed each morning:

Class: Alchemist

Traits: [Transmigrator] [Talented Alchemist]

Level: 5

Strength: 0.9 → 1.2

Agility: 0.8 → 1

Constitution: 1 → 1.1

Spirit: 5

Luck: 5

Skills Page ≫

Over the past months, I had made physical improvements by fashioning rough dumbbells with the help of the blacksmith. From what I had seen during these times the idea of working out was almost nonexistent. I mean, even the push-up wasn’t invented yet. I always thought push-ups were an old type of basic exercise, but I probably was wrong.

Active Skills:

Transmutation - Lvl 1/10

Brewing - Lvl 1/10

Passive Skills:

Spear Mastery - Lvl 1/10

Bow Mastery - Lvl 1/10 (new)

≪ Status Page

Getting the Bow Mastery skill had proven challenging, showing Myrina's exceptional teaching ability when she helped me acquire the Spearmanship skill in just three days. Alternatively, perhaps my Luck stat was overly advantageous, aiding my aim more than my actual skill.

Leveling up skills required real effort and couldn't be achieved by repeating the same routine endlessly. Despite having a Gamer Interface, there seemed to be a touch of realism, it wasn’t something completely magical.

Today was a special day as I found myself alone at home. My very pregnant mother sought refuge at the healer's house with my father, awaiting the imminent arrival of my new sibling.

With the house to myself, I had some free time and the freedom to pursue my interests without parental intervention. To raise my Alchemy skills, I gathered the necessary materials to craft a weapon for myself.

Returning home, there was a pot on the boil, adorned with intricate transmutation inscriptions on the outside. Inside, molten metal bubbled, showcasing the fascinating yet less glamorous side of alchemy. Nonetheless, its versatility surpassed the flashy fireball-throwing I had previously admired. In the real world, being a jack of all trades was essential for survival, even if it didn't always work well in typical RPG games.

I took a bucket of sand and poured it onto the ground, covering the transfiguration circle. Next, I grabbed a pot filled with molten metal and emptied it onto the sand. Immediately after, I touched the transfiguration circle with my hand.

Kar filled the circle, causing it to glow in a brilliant, blinking light, brighter than I had ever seen before. When the blinding light subsided, the clump of sand and metal had transformed into a slender spear adorned with peculiar red engravings.

Did it work successfully on the first try? I had expected a few failures at least. Being lucky felt like cheating in life.

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However, the volatile Luck Stat only worked randomly, leaving me uncertain of when I was truly lucky or just normal. Old man Romos' death had shown that the Luck Stat didn't always function.

I picked up the spear and infused it with Kar. Instantly, without the need for a transmutation circle, the weapon transformed into a sword, then a shield. With each transformation, it absorbed Kar.

Despite how it felt to have a magic weapon, it would be more convenient to have a sword and a spear rather than a weapon that constantly changed forms.

So why did I create something that seemed essentially useless?

Well, for this.

Transmutation - Level 1 → 2/10

So my suspicions were right. Now it made sense why my skills never leveled up. I had to make a genuine effort and try something different instead of merely repeating the same actions. Well, technically repeating the same thing helped with mastering the skill, but it didn't seem to give Exp. I still had to train to get used to the skill in order to get familiar enough with it to do something considered at a stage worthy of leveling it up.

…

After testing the weapon briefly, I was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying outside. Without hesitation, I dashed out of the reinforced door, propelled by a sense of urgency.

My mother appeared exhausted, her face displaying signs of weariness with a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. Yet, as she laid eyes on me, a smile broke across her face. "Idas, meet your newborn brother, Zephyr."

Returning the smile, I approached my father, who was cradling the little bundle. Zephyr's tiny face was scrunched up as he wailed.

Somehow, I couldn't help but feel a surge of joy. This was my baby brother, and despite the dangers lurking beyond, I was determined to protect him with all my might. It was the duty of an older brother.

Oddly enough, I had expected a sister. In the realm of isekai stories, it's typical for the protagonist to have a younger sister whom they would be creepy toward. Nonetheless, I cared for none of that, and having any sibling was wonderful.

"Hey there, little guy," I gently poked his soft cheeks, and he instinctively wrapped his tiny hand around my finger. He was undeniably adorable.

***

Opin, the village healer, was known for his knowledge and expertise in medicine. He didn't believe in the power of Gods and relied on his own efforts to achieve results. However, as he gazed at a bottle of red, blood-like liquid, he couldn't help but be amazed.

This particular medicine had saved his most recent patient from childbirth complications. It seemed like a miracle potion that could heal wounds simply by drinking it or applying it topically.

The only drawback was that these potions had a short expiration date, and only Idas seemed capable of making them. There was a secret ingredient that made the potion work, making it impossible to replicate. Additionally, Idas could only produce a limited quantity, around 5-10 Healing Potions per day.

Opin's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. A messenger informed him that the village elder had called for his assistance, as an injured man had arrived in the village.

Opin felt a bit perturbed by the arrival of yet another outsider. It was uncommon for people to visit such a remote and isolated place. Nevertheless, he gathered his medical tools, including cloth, a sharp knife, various needles, and a hammer.

Equipped with healing herbs and bloodletting tools, Opin, although just a village healer, had acquired knowledge from his old master, who had studied in Athens. This gave him an understanding of advanced healing techniques that were beyond the reach of the average healer.

Exiting his house, Opin hurriedly made his way to the village square. The houses were clustered together, allowing him to reach the square quickly.

There, he found a middle-aged man, his round belly and fat head showing signs of pain, being attended to by an old man who was the village elder. The elder remarked, "Just a little longer, and the healer will arrive. Ah, there he is!"

Approaching the injured merchant, Opin began examining his wound. The man's appearance resembled that of a round, fat egg.

"Ah! The pain is unbearable! I haven't experienced such agony since that arrow struck my shoulder in the war between Athens and Sparta!" The merchant howled, exaggerating his suffering beyond measure.

"What caused the wound?" Opin asked, concerned. If it was caused by an animal's claw, the chances of it becoming infected were higher, and he might have to resort to using a healing potion. However, Opin considered these potions to be precious and saw them as bottled miracles, unlike their creator. He believed that their unique properties couldn't be replicated, no matter how hard one tried.

"The wound was caused when my cane broke, and a sharp piece dug into my leg," explained the merchant.

Opin nodded, relieved. "In that case, it is unlikely that the wound will fester. In a week or two, you should be back to normal, albeit with a new scar."

The merchant chuckled. "I'll tell my friends I got it from a fierce wolf!"

Opin paid little attention to the merchant's jokes. He was simply glad he didn't have to use a precious potion. By not using it, Opin could keep its miraculous properties contained and prevent them from being wasted.

He wanted to be the one to uncover the secrets of its creation, partly to protect the boy responsible for these miracles. Opin wasn't a religious man, but even he could recognize the extraordinary impact the youngster had on a village that was believed to be doomed.

"Anyway, about that item you wanted to trade, what was its name again?" the merchant inquired.

"Oh, a wheelbarrow," the elderly village elder smiled.

The merchant glanced around and quickly spotted several people using the mentioned wheelbarrows. They were wooden, one-wheeled hand carriages.

"How many can you produce?" the merchant asked.

"The carpenter can make one every two days. He has become quite skilled at it," the village elder replied with a nod.

Opin listened quietly, but as the merchant scanned the surroundings, he cast a menacing glare at the village elder. Was the old man attempting to sell something that Idas had invented?

This did not sit well with Opin.