“Just 5% more, and my Boar Form core will reach a full 100% fusion…”

Olive had a hunch that once the fusion was complete, there would likely be a significant power boost. However, those final 5% might not come easily.

He could clearly feel that after reaching 90% fusion, the amount of Life Essence required for further increases was rising steadily.

"This time, I've made significant progress," he mused.

"My strength has grown again."

“Although I’ve only been at the academy for a few days, I should already be a match for most of the weaker noble students.”

Moreover, Olive felt that with his increased magical potential, his mental strength had also improved.

This meant he could possibly capture another pet.

After catching the big tiger, he realized that if he wanted to add more core forms, his mental strength would soon become insufficient.

In other words, to expand the forms of his magical core, he needed to continually grow his mental strength.

Maybe he could even explore psychic magic in the future.

----------------------------------------

By nightfall, the big cat had once again helped him catch a few goats and rabbits. Olive took his haul back to the village.

He had to pretend he’d just been hunting.

The animals could be sold for money to cover his hefty expenses at the magic academy.

Upon arriving at the tavern, the owner, Gavin, looked puzzled. “Olive, I haven’t seen you around lately. Haven’t brought any game in—found a new buyer, have you? Our Oak Barrel Tavern offers the best prices in town!”

Olive had been a good supplier of game, and it had brought Gavin quite a bit of profit. His absence had left Gavin feeling somewhat disappointed.

"Haha, no new buyers. Just been hunting less because I started attending Oakridge Academy," Olive chuckled.

“You’re learning magic now?” Gavin asked, his voice tinged with surprise. “Ah, it’s great to see a young man chasing his dreams.”

Gavin had actually attended a magic academy in his youth but had never made much of a name for himself in the magical world. Still, he kept a set of academy robes as a memento.

“Learning a few spells could be useful for hunting, too,” Gavin laughed. “When you catch something big again, be sure to bring it here!”

It seemed that Gavin still believed Olive would continue as a hunter, despite attending magic school.

Not that he looked down on Olive; it was just that magic wasn’t something anyone could master. Many people dreamed of becoming wizards, but even fewer became apprentices.

Olive was still the son of a farmer—how could he ever become a proper wizard?

Gavin didn’t even think Olive could make it as a magic apprentice.

Olive would likely just learn a few spells to make hunting easier, perhaps bringing in better game to sell.

And that would be a good thing. Gavin was pleased and even more eager to treat Olive warmly.

Olive saw through Gavin’s thoughts but said nothing. He quietly took the money for the game and left the tavern without offering any explanation.

With the money in hand, Olive headed back to the village.

For the next few days, he planned to skip the academy.

Having just used Aqua Bubble to boost his power, he was concerned that someone might notice the sudden increase.

Besides, he had already memorized the two basic magic books. He could practice magic just as easily in the village.

However, as soon as he arrived, he spotted a villager sneaking toward him, eyes wide and signaling with a furtive wink.

“Run, Stark! Eirik’s hiding near your house, looking to cause trouble!”

Eirik?

The name wasn’t unfamiliar to Olive.

This guy was one of the local thugs. It was Eirik’s gang that had caused trouble with Grik, leading the latter to flee into the woods.

Olive had seized the opportunity to deal with Grik and kill him.

Now, Eirik had his sights set on Olive?

This guy was even worse than Grik, and had a few lackeys of his own, slowly taking on the vibe of a small-time gang.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Although Olive had gained some notoriety in the village recently, he was still a lone figure, and Eirik clearly saw him as an easy target.

“They must have their eyes on the 300 silver coins you made from selling slimes,” the villager whispered, then ran off quickly, clearly hoping not to be seen by Eirik's crew.

“A few punks think they can mess with me?” Olive sneered, continuing toward his house.

The villager, seeing Olive walking calmly toward the thugs, was momentarily stunned.

“Didn’t he hear me? Why isn’t he running? Is he out of his mind?”

When Olive reached his door, he found the lock had been broken and his house ransacked.

His dishes and bedding were thrown around, and the wine barrels were overturned.

However, the silver coins he’d hidden under the floorboards were untouched.

If they had found them, they wouldn’t be standing here waiting for him.

Five thugs were standing outside, led by a towering man with a thick beard and a jagged scar across his face. This was Eirik.

“Fuck you! You little bastard, didn’t know you’d be back this late? We’ve been waiting forever!”

Eirik sneered as he cracked his knuckles, staring at Olive.

His four lackeys quickly surrounded him, advancing step by step.

Five burly men, closing in from all directions.

Any normal villager would have been intimidated into submission by such pressure, handing over their money without a word.

But Olive remained calm.

He didn’t bother with words, stepping forward with a casual stride and landing a powerful punch right in Eirik’s face.

The blow barely used any effort, yet the force was enough to send a shockwave through the air.

The Boar Form magical core had given him an astonishing power boost.

Even a casual punch from him was more than any regular person could withstand.

Eirik was sent flying, his face disfigured and blood gushing.

He slammed into a nearby tree with a loud thud, leaving a deep crack in the trunk.

“You—”

Before the rest of the gang could react, Olive raised his fist again and struck another thug in the gut. The man doubled over in agony, clutching his stomach and howling in pain.

“Ah!” One of the thugs screamed, turning to flee.

But flee?

“You break into my house and now you think you can run?”

Olive stepped forward, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him to the ground. He then stomped down hard on the thug's hand.

The bones in his fingers cracked with a sickening crunch.

The entire village was filled with the thug's agonized screams.

Within moments, all five men were on the ground, writhing in pain.

----------------------------------------

"Get lost."

Oliver coldly muttered as he rifled through the pockets of the thugs, collecting 20 silver coins from them.

When Eirik and his crew heard that, they scrambled to get away, stumbling over each other in their haste. They couldn't help but scream in pain as they ran.

After all, Oliver had made sure to break at least one bone on each of them. The blood was flowing freely, staining the ground.

These bullies, who had terrorized the town for so long, had finally met someone they couldn’t mess with.

When they first arrived, they swaggered with arrogance, spouting profanities. But now, after being thoroughly beaten, they scampered away as if Oliver had granted them a great favor, not daring to say a single harsh word. The contrast was stark and shocking.

Outside Oliver’s small house, a small crowd of villagers had gathered. They watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"Is this really the same Oliver?" one of them whispered.

Not long ago, this was the boy who had been starving, nearly dying from hunger, and had even asked them for bread.

Now, just a few days later, he had grown so strong that he could take down someone like Eirik with ease.

And Eirik wasn’t just any thug—he was feared in the town. The bully Grik had once been forced to flee to the forest's edge after crossing Eirik. Yet Oliver, by himself, had taken down five thugs without breaking a sweat.

"Stark, how did you get so strong all of a sudden?" one of the villagers asked, amazed.

"He is good at hunting, but who knew he’d be so tough in a fight?" another murmured.

The villagers were thrilled. They had long hated Eirik and his gang, many of them having been extorted or harassed by him. Seeing Oliver take down these bullies filled them with a sense of vengeance and satisfaction.

"I heard Oliver went to Oakridge Academy. Did he learn something there?" one person asked, lowering their voice to a whisper.

The others immediately became envious.

Oakridge Academy was a renowned institution, and Oliver, a boy who had once been starving and homeless, was now enrolled there.

They couldn’t help but wonder if he might one day become a knight or even a magician—perhaps a noble lord.

"Stark, now that you're so strong, if you ever become a noble lord, don't forget about us!" someone called out.

"Oliver, my son always liked playing with you when he was younger. Maybe you could help him see if he has what it takes to become a knight?" another person asked.

"What's happening to our little village lately? First, little Isabella from the Alstan family inherits her aunt's fortune and becomes a noble, and now it seems like Oliver is on his way to nobility too..."

The crowd continued to chat excitedly, congratulating Oliver.

But Oliver wasn’t interested in indulging them. When he was at his lowest, nearly starving to death, he had asked these same people for help, but they hadn’t lifted a finger.

There was no real hatred between them—just indifference. Now that he was on the rise, he had no intention of extending a hand to them either.

"With Eirik and his gang taken care of, I shouldn’t have to worry about any more troublemakers around here," Oliver thought to himself, his face darkening as he turned back to his home.

Once the crowd dispersed, Oliver returned to his house.

The first thing he did was retrieve the silver coins hidden under his bed and check them. After confirming that nothing had been stolen, he finally felt a sense of relief.

He still had plenty of expenses coming up, especially with tuition fees at the Academy.

And, counting the days, he knew it was time for taxes to be paid. The tax collector from the kingdom would soon arrive in the town, and all the villagers would have to gather in the square to pay their dues.

Oliver had a variety of taxes to pay—head tax, hunter’s tax, and even a labor tax.

Riverhaven Kingdom imposed heavy taxes on hunters, and all of it combined could easily amount to over 70 silver coins.

Oliver had 360 silver coins in total, but after paying for his tuition (120 coins) and other daily expenses, he only had about 100 left. Once the taxes were paid, he’d have even less.

For the next few days, Oliver stayed home and practiced magic in the yard, not attending the Academy. But then, the day for tax collection finally arrived.

"Tax time! The tax collector’s coming!" someone shouted from the village.

The villagers gathered together and made their way toward the town square.

The noble tax officials never came to their remote village, so the villagers had to bring their taxes in the form of silver coins or produce.

When Oliver arrived at the square, he saw that the area was already packed with people, huddled together to escape the biting cold wind.

The lines were long, and the villagers’ faces were grim with worry. The taxes were too high, and many couldn’t afford to pay.

From time to time, there were cries of despair as soldiers dragged people away. Those who couldn’t pay were often sent to build walls on the kingdom's border or were used as cannon fodder in the fight against magical beasts.

One person even tried to resist, shoving a soldier aside and attempting to flee. He was quickly shot in the knee by an archer, and the man screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground.

"It’s good to be a magician... they don’t have to pay taxes!" a familiar voice sighed behind Oliver.

He turned around to find James standing there, shaking his head. In Riverhaven, magicians enjoyed many privileges, one of which was exemption from taxes.

James had been looking for him, eager to catch up, and as they chatted, he suddenly pointed to someone in the distance.

"Oliver, look! Isn’t that Isabella from the Alstan family? I heard she became a noblewoman, but I thought that was just a rumor. Who would’ve thought..."