The air was still, carrying a faint breeze across the vast grassland. The blades of grass were so short and delicate that they seemed no taller than a man's fingers, fluttering gently under the caress of the wind. The sprawling field stretched endlessly in every direction, devoid of life or movement, except for a single tree standing atop the highest point of the meadow. It was a magnificent tree—massive and commanding, its thick trunk rooted firmly into the earth as though it had been there since the beginning of time. Its branches spread outward like the arms of a giant, creating an umbrella of shadow over the ground beneath it. The sunlight poured down unrelentingly from the clear blue sky, high above—the sun's position marking the heart of midday. Yet, under the tree's canopy, the ground was cool, serene, and untouched by the harsh rays of the sun. And there, lying directly beneath the sprawling tree, was a boy. He appeared to be about fifteen years old. His black hair was thick and slightly disheveled, as though it had been tousled by the wind itself. His eyes—completely black—were closed, as if he were deep in slumber, unaware of the world around him. For a moment, the meadow was perfectly silent, save for the rustling of grass and the occasional whisper of leaves from the solitary tree. The perspective began to shift, closing in on the boy as his consciousness stirred. Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, his vision was filled with the sight of the tree's intricate branches, twisting and reaching towards the sky like the fingers of an unseen artist. He stared for a moment, his expression etched with confusion, trying to comprehend where he was and what he was seeing. His gaze dropped from the branches to his surroundings. He realized that he was lying in the soft grass, with the earth firm yet oddly comforting beneath him. He turned his head slightly, only to see the enormous trunk of the tree looming behind him. Its bark was rugged and ancient, lined with cracks and crevices that spoke of countless years weathering the elements. The boy's face contorted in surprise. How is this tree so enormous? he wondered to himself, blinking rapidly. Trees of such size were rare, almost unreal. As the thought lingered, he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking down at his own body. The sight of his clothes brought another wave of confusion. "Why am I wearing leather clothes?" he said aloud, his voice soft but edged with disbelief. His eyes dropped to his pants—brown and made of thick leather, stopping just at his knees. The material looked rough, durable, and completely unlike anything he remembered wearing. His shirt was no less strange: a loose, black tunic that hung off his frame, the fabric flowing slightly with every movement. "What is this?" he murmured, his brows furrowing as he stared at himself. His voice seemed to vanish into the open air, swallowed by the quiet stillness of the meadow. With a sigh, he shifted his weight and sat fully upright. The moment his gaze lifted, his eyes widened in shock. Before him lay an endless expanse of green. The field sloped gently downward, creating a vast incline that led into the horizon. There were no rocks, no obstructions—just an unbroken sea of vibrant grass. There was a whole grassland here which was spread far and wide. Seeing this even Adam got very surprised and he was not able to take his eyes off it. The wind swept through the meadow, and the grass swayed like waves on a calm ocean, their green hues shimmering beneath the sunlight. The boy stared in silence, mesmerized. The sound of the wind rushing through the blades was strangely soothing, like a soft hum resonating through the earth itself. For a long time, he simply watched, unable to tear his gaze away. Finally, a thought escaped his lips, a hushed whisper carried on his breath: "How beautiful..." He didn't know why he said it, but the words felt right. This place—this endless field—was unlike anything he had seen before. It was tranquil, untouched, and pure, as if it had been carved out of a dream. As his eyes followed the downward slope, they caught sight of something even more breathtaking. At the far edge of the meadow, where the incline seemed to meet the horizon, there was a river. Adam had never seen such a clear river in his life and he saw the water of the river as clear through it as if it were a glass. Wide and gleaming, its waters reflected the sunlight like liquid silver, flowing lazily through the landscape. The river's presence was calming yet imposing, a reminder of nature's quiet strength. Beyond the river, the meadow gave way to a forest. At first glance, the trees seemed sparse and evenly spread apart, their trunks rising like sentinels in a perfect rhythm. But as the boy looked further into the distance, the forest grew denser. The trees huddled closer together, their branches intertwining to form a shadowy canopy that obscured the view of whatever lay beyond. The boy's gaze lingered on the forest, his heart pounding faintly in his chest. There was something about the scene before him that felt both inviting and foreboding. It was as though the meadow, the river, and the forest were calling to him, asking him to step forward and discover their secrets. "This is incredible," he thought to himself, his mind racing with questions. Where was he? How had he come to be here? And why did everything around him feel so… alive? He squinted into the distance, trying to see further, but the forest grew darker and more impenetrable the longer he stared. The wind continued to hum, carrying the faint smell of grass and earth, as if the world itself was urging him to explore. And yet, for now, he remained still—lost in the beauty of the scene before him, uncertain of what lay ahead. Adam's gaze remained fixed on the vast meadow before him, its rolling green expanse stretching out endlessly. It was as though he had been swallowed by an entirely different world—one so serene and untouched that it almost felt unreal. Beyond the meadow, his eyes traced the line where the grassy slopes dipped into a shimmering river, and further still, the shadowy outline of the dense forest loomed on the horizon. For a long moment, Adam simply stared, his dark eyes unblinking as his mind tried to catch up with the bizarre reality around him. Slowly, his lips moved as he muttered to himself, his voice shaky and uncertain. "What… what am I even doing?" His voice, soft and disoriented, echoed faintly in the empty space. Adam blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of a fog. He looked around, his gaze sweeping over the endless meadow in every direction. There was nothing—no buildings, no people, not even a hint of familiarity. It was only grass, the tree, and the sound of the wind. Confusion turned to unease, and Adam frowned deeply. He hesitated before speaking again, his voice louder now, laced with suspicion and frustration. "Did someone kidnap me? Is this some kind of joke?" The words left his mouth, sharp and accusing, though he had no one to direct them at. The thought unsettled him further—was this all part of some cruel game? Had someone abandoned him here, in the middle of nowhere? Adam pushed his hands against the ground, preparing to stand. The grass felt soft beneath his palms, but just as he began to rise, a searing pain shot through his skull. "Ahhh!" The cry of pain tore from his lips as his hands instinctively flew to his head, gripping it tightly. The agony was unbearable, like someone had struck him with a hammer. He fell back immediately, collapsing onto the grass with a dull thud. Lying flat on his back, Adam clenched his teeth, his jaw locked as he tried to endure the excruciating pain. The world seemed to blur around him, and then— Images. Memories. They flooded his mind like a broken dam. Adam saw flashes of a small, simple village surrounded by dense forests. There was a house—a modest, humble home where a family lived. He saw himself there, a young boy, the youngest in his family. He had an older brother and sister, twins who were both seventeen. The two of them stood together, their faces familiar yet distant. Their voices echoed faintly, as if reaching him through a veil. His father appeared in the vision next, a sturdy man with hands calloused from years of hard work in the fields. He was a farmer, toiling daily under the sun to provide for the family. Beside him stood Adam's mother, her expression gentle and warm as she bustled about their home. She was the heart of the household—a housewife who held everything together. The memories felt so real, so vivid, as though they had been his all along. Adam saw the village—his village—surrounded by towering trees that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky. He realized he had never left that village, not once. His entire life had been spent within its bounds, and he had only ever heard stories—legends—about a place called the Magus Tower, and the great deeds performed there by powerful heroes. The images began to fade, and with them, the pain in his head started to subside. The throbbing dulled to a faint ache until, finally, it was gone. Slowly, Adam released his grip on his head and let his arms fall to his sides. He lay there for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. When he finally opened his eyes again, he whispered, half in disbelief: "What kind of joke is this? I've transmigrated… into a fantasy world?" The realization hit him hard. He stared up at the sky, his mind reeling as he processed the truth. He wasn't just dreaming—this was real. Somehow, someway, he had ended up in this strange world. Adam sat up again, more slowly this time, and sighed heavily. His thoughts drifted to his old life, his real life. There, he had been happy. A simple life, yes, but a good one. He had been a college student, balancing his studies with a part-time job that gave him enough money to meet his extra needs. His parents had supported him, paying his tuition fees and giving him the freedom to live without constant worry. His voice broke slightly as he whispered to himself, "I wonder how worried my parents must be… when they realize I'm not there anymore." The thought weighed on him like a stone. What would his parents do? Would they search for him? Would they ever understand what had happened to him? Adam let out a small, humorless laugh, pressing a hand to his forehead as he continued to sit in the grass. "I'm such a fool…" he muttered bitterly. For as long as he could remember, he had fantasized about something like this—about escaping his normal life and finding himself in a world full of magic, adventure, and endless possibilities. It had been a silly dream, one that he had clung to on difficult days. But now that it had actually happened, now that he was here, he felt a pang of sadness and regret. "This is exactly what I always wanted," he said softly, shaking his head. "And now I'm upset?" Adam took a deep breath, forcing the thoughts from his mind. With a determined grunt, he pushed himself onto his feet. The meadow stretched around him as far as the eye could see, but now it looked different. Instead of fear or confusion, there was something else—something like hope. Clenching his fists tightly, Adam raised both arms to the sky, his fingers curled into triumphant fists. His black tunic flapped slightly in the wind, and his voice rang out with newfound determination: "I'll live this life to the fullest! I'll fulfill all my dreams—no one will tell me what to do!" The resolve in his voice was unmistakable, and it burned in his chest like a fire. He threw his head back and let out a loud, exuberant shout that echoed across the meadow: "Hurray!" The sound carried on the breeze, as though the world itself acknowledged his declaration. Adam stood there, his fists still raised, his heart pounding with excitement. In that moment, the confusion and regret were gone. This was a new beginning, and Adam intended to make the most of it. --- End of Chapter One

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