**Kingdom of Riverhaven, Greenwood Village**
A cold sea breeze swept through, carrying the salty tang of the ocean and a faint hint of malt ale.
The boy who should have been dead slowly opened his eyes.Hunger gnawed at him, twisting his insides as if flames danced in his belly, creating an unbearable ache.
“Oliver Stark… is that my name now? I’m just a farmer. My parents are gone, leaving behind only a dilapidated shack and a small plot of land…”
He found himself in a coastal village reminiscent of ancient England. Fragmented memories surged within him, and Oliver recalled that even the land he relied on for survival had recently been taken from him. That was why this body was on the brink of starvation.
A soul from another world, a fresh entity from the 21st century, had manifested here.
Yes, Oliver had been transported.
Once, he was merely a resident of a small American town, living an utterly mundane life. It was unthinkable that, during a shooting incident, he, an innocent bystander, had been struck by a stray bullet, leading to this moment...
I’m so hungry!
His stomach growled.
The noise pulled him back from his thoughts. Instinct for survival drove him to scan his surroundings, desperate for even the slightest morsel of food. But all he saw was the empty, crumbling interior of the shack.
The clay pot meant for storing fresh water sat empty, while a small barrel intended for malt ale lay toppled on the ground, its contents long since dried up.
There was nothing—no food, not even a drop to drink.
“Get lost! There’s nothing to eat here; my family can hardly feed themselves!”
“Don’t bother him; who knows if he’s sick!”
Voices of indifference echoed in his mind as faces from memory flitted past.
I can’t just starve to death like this.
A fierce desire to live surged through Oliver, compelling him to struggle up from the dilapidated floorboards, unsteady as he stumbled out of the shack. He needed to find something to eat.
However, just a few steps outside, fatigue hit him like lead, and he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, unable to move further.
“Is this what it feels like to starve to death?”
Oliver managed a bitter smile, glancing down at his emaciated form, feeling utterly despondent.
He had died once; could he really be on the verge of dying again just after being transported?
Thud, thud, thud—heavy, chaotic footsteps approached.
Someone was coming?
Oliver’s heart skipped a beat as he struggled to cry out for help. But before he could open his mouth, the figures had already spotted him and began to murmur coldly.
“Another one on the brink of starvation.”
“Leave him; he might be contagious!”
The voices of several fishermen faded into the distance.
Despair wrapped around Oliver’s heart like a vice, his limbs growing colder and weaker. He wanted to crawl back inside to see if any scraps remained, but he lacked the strength for even that.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Oliver, why are you lying here?”
A melodic voice cut through the darkness.
He managed to lift his gaze and saw a frail girl standing in the doorway, her face a mask of alarm.
“Isabella?”
Isabella Alstan, the daughter of the neighboring farmer. The Alstans were just as impoverished as he was, toiling daily for their meager sustenance.
“I—I came out to find some water. What about you, little Isabella?”
Oliver panted, forcing the words out.
He longed not just for water but for food. Yet remembering the indifferent faces from earlier, and knowing the Alstans were just as destitute, he held his tongue.
“Nonsense! You must be starving!”
Little Isabella shot him a stern look, her eyes flashing with compassion.
Oliver’s gaunt figure was alarming, like a specter of malnutrition. As she stepped closer, she realized something was seriously wrong.
“Wait here; I—I’ll bring you some rye bread…”
Before she could finish her sentence, she hurried off.
Moments later, she returned, clutching a hard piece of rye bread in her small hands.
Though it was the cheapest food, costing only seven or eight copper coins, to a family like hers, it was a crucial lifeline for survival.
As the daughter of a farmer, she understood the value of food. Offering it made her heart ache.
She had stolen this bread from her home; if her father found out, she would surely face a beating.
Isabella’s father had a penchant for drinking, and though it was only the cheapest ale, he became violent after drinking. Oliver often heard cries and screams from next door.
At that moment, Isabella instinctively touched a bruise on her arm, hesitation flickering in her eyes as fear of her father crept in. Yet she still extended the piece of rye bread toward him.
“Little Isabella, I—I can’t…”
Oliver couldn’t help but swallow hard. What once seemed to him a tough, unpalatable crust now appeared as a delicacy beyond measure.
He had intended to refuse, but before he could voice it, his trembling hands reached out instinctively, accepting it and shoving it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing with urgency.
The starch mixed with saliva burst forth with a faint sweetness in his mouth, mingling with the original sour and salty flavors of the rye bread. The taste was far from delightful, even somewhat repulsive.
But in that moment, Oliver’s only thought was of survival; he couldn’t care less about the flavor.
The bread was gritty with bran and even contained bits of wood, making it rough and difficult to swallow, but he forced it down without a sip of water.
“Eat up, and hurry home; don’t just lie here at the door.”
“Mm…”
Oliver wanted to respond, but Isabella stood up, turning to leave, her face pale, still grappling with how to handle her father’s inevitable questions.
And it was autumn; given how starved he was now, how would he survive the coming winter when food would be scarcer?
Would she dare to steal more food for him in the future?
Yet their family was not well-off either, and if her father discovered it…
With these worries weighing heavily on her, Isabella’s figure gradually faded from view.
Oliver fought to swallow the last remnants of the rye bread, wishing he could express his gratitude but found no words in time.
Life as a farmer was anything but easy.
The Alstan family comprised five members, and just the cost of rye bread alone amounted to eighty copper coins daily.
While the Alstans’ harvest translated to about one hundred copper coins a day, seemingly enough at first glance, household expenses went far beyond just bread.
Food, clothing, shelter—these all required coin.
Moreover, much of the farmers’ land wasn’t theirs.
It belonged to the lord, and taxes had to be paid.
There were various other dues, bribes for selling grain, costs for renting tools, and even obligatory service.
Not to mention the potential for famine or illness striking family members.
A piece of rye bread may seem insignificant, but for families like theirs, it held immense value.
Though only fifteen, Isabella had already been helping her family with work; she understood the worth of food, yet still chose to share a piece with Oliver.
She would undoubtedly face her father’s wrath tonight.
Oliver wished he could help her, but he was utterly powerless in his current state.
As darkness enveloped the land after he finished the rye bread, he gazed up at the unfamiliar night sky.
The stars shone brightly, yet they were unlike anything he had known before.
A gust of night air washed over him, and Oliver felt adrift in confusion; he had never been a farmer in his past life. Although he had inherited some memories of this body, he lacked the skills to till the land.
How was he to survive in this world?
Moreover, and perhaps more crucially, this world was unlike any other!
He recalled stories of people from the neighboring town who could punch through iron walls and tales of those who could form so-called mana cores to wield elemental magic.
Yet these seemed leagues away from him now.
He couldn’t even secure the most basic necessity—food for survival!
But just then, something unexpected occurred.
A strange chill surged through his mind, roiling within, and pain shot through his head as if it were being pierced by needles, while his lungs felt like they were engulfed in fire, almost suffocating him.
Fortunately, this sensation subsided quickly.
In its wake, a series of words appeared before his eyes!
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Oliver Stark
Mana cores:
* [Mana core 1 – Red –Elysian Nexus Core – Enhances magical growth based on creature cultivation. This core can transform into different forms based on the captured creature, granting unique abilities associated with each form. ]
* [Mana core 2 – ???]
Bloodline:
* [Beastmaster’s Lineage] – Grants the ability to cultivate and control magical creatures, enhancing their growth and abilities as the bloodline matures.