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Chapter 1: The Prodigy of the Vineyard

After dying in a hit-and-run accident involving a golden-colored Matiz, I found myself reincarnated in a fantasy world.

“Wow, a Matiz can actually kill someone,” was a thought I postponed dwelling on.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder—if the car that hit me had been a Genesis instead of a Matiz, would my reincarnated status have been different?

Unfortunately, I was reborn as the son of a serf.

The memories of drowning in student debt during my previous life lingered deeply, and I had secretly wished to live as a silver spoon in my next life. But fate dealt me the “son of a serf” card instead.

Life really had a way of kicking you when you were down.

“Status window,” I mumbled when I was finally able to speak coherently, as if following some cliché script.
But nothing appeared.

It seemed I was fated to remain an extra in this world—a mere serf’s son with no grand narrative awaiting me.

Given the state of my family and the bleakness of our circumstances, I figured I’d resign myself to farming and eventually pass away in obscurity.

Farming, in a romantic fantasy world—how utterly pathetic.

From a modern person’s perspective, my life would be a tragic waste:

  • “Why bother when you could wield a sword wrapped in aura and slice through the heavens?”
  • “Why not conjure an Ice Age like Aokiji with magic?”
  • “Honestly, wouldn’t getting incinerated by dragon breath at least be an achievement?”

Even I could admit that. But there was nothing I could do about it.

As a newbie to this world, I knew medieval peasants had no options. Being a serf meant you barely scraped by day-to-day, let alone pursued dreams of becoming a knight or mage.

Just yesterday, we had so little food that I survived on a single potato.

If I had some special reincarnation perk or cheat, I could’ve at least chopped vegetables with a knife by now.

But I had no status window, no basic education, and no grandiose destiny to chase. It was all a pipe dream.

Besides, would the lord even allow me to leave the estate? A serf’s son was essentially his property.

For all these reasons, I concluded it was safest to stick to farming.

It wasn’t like I possessed the kind of extraordinary talents one might find in a shonen manga. Not that I expected to, anyway.

“Man, I feel like regressing already, and it’s only morning,” I muttered.

As usual, I was helping out with the farm work. My entire body ached from head to toe.

No matter how much I worked, I just couldn’t adapt to this life.

I’d been doing farm work under the scorching sun since I was ten years old.

It had been five years, yet I still hadn’t gotten used to it. Every day felt fresh—freshly miserable, that is.

‘Maybe I should just fake being sick today and rest?’

The idea tempted me momentarily, but I quickly chastised myself.

“Get it together!”

I had to farm diligently. Slacking off for a day might bring fleeting happiness, but it would make tomorrow that much harder. Better to suffer through it now than starve later.

Farming rewards you based on your efforts. The fruits of your labor will eventually ripen… or so I hoped.

“Damn it. Am I a farmer or a reincarnator?”

Overwhelmed by frustration, I stretched my aching body and took a moment to catch my breath.

“Hah, what a life.”

As a cool breeze brushed past me, I enjoyed a brief but sweet respite. Then, something caught my eye—something peculiar.

“What’s that?”

For a moment, I doubted my own eyes.

A group of unfamiliar elders, dressed in colorful robes, strolled casually through the estate.

Their unusual attire and white beards made them look every bit the part of wizards from a fantasy story.

Each held a staff-like object, adding to their mystical appearance.

“Are they really mages?”

Whether it was their looks or the aura they exuded, they didn’t seem ordinary at all.

‘This is the first time I’ve seen mages in this world. Did someone discover a mana stone nearby or something?’

As I pondered and watched, I figured I should get back to work. But before I could, they suddenly surrounded me.

“Huh? What’s going on?”

My mind froze in shock.

The robed elders studied me intently, their eyes filled with curiosity. Finally, one of them, dressed in a red robe, spoke up.

“It’s you! Your innate mana reserves are extraordinary for someone so young—how fascinating!”

“Indeed,” another chimed in. “One glance, and I can tell you’re a genius destined for our tower.”

“Stop it, Black Robe! Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“By the way, kid, do you like oak trees?”

I couldn’t follow their strange conversation. Just as I grew more bewildered, a white-robed elder stepped forward and began to explain things patiently.

“…Is this true?”

“I swear it upon the honor of all magicians.”

“Oh my, how adorable. Do you not believe us?”

“It’s not that… It’s just…”

I was too dumbfounded to respond. What kind of nonsense was this?

According to their story, these magicians had eaten green grapes that I had personally harvested and felt something extraordinary—what exactly?

A fragment of a Great Mage’s essence.

Apparently, that’s why the leaders of the mage towers had personally come all the way to Tantar, a remote village at the empire’s edge.

When I asked how that was possible, they explained that traces of unrefined, high-quality mana had seeped into the grapes.

Upon consuming them, they witnessed the fragment of the Great Mage. Or something like that.

It all sounded dubious, but since this was a fantasy world, I decided to roll with it.

Still, a Great Mage… through green grapes? Was this some kind of “creative economy”?

The fact that green grapes were a delicacy among magicians was surprising enough, but to think I was some kind of prodigy.

While others obsessed over status windows in reincarnation novels, I was being acknowledged for my farming skills.

Was this what they meant by “destined for greatness”?

‘Could I actually be the protagonist of this isekai?’

The corners of my mouth lifted into an involuntary smile. The bleak future I had envisioned suddenly seemed much brighter.

“Do you know how to use magic?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then watch closely.”

The elder in the red robe began tracing a magic circle in the air while softly chanting an incantation.

“Fireball.”

A flicker of flame ignited at his fingertips, quickly growing into a fiery orb before hurtling forward and exploding into a blaze.

It was Fireball, one of the basic spells of the Red Tower.

‘Wow, that’s amazing.’

My immediate thought? That’d be great for roasting meat.

Followed by, I wonder how long it would take to cook something with that?

The fireball dissipated after a brief moment, leaving me somewhat mesmerized.

“Now, try replicating what I just did,” said the Red Tower leader.

“…Excuse me, what?”

I was utterly taken aback.

Hold on, isn’t that a bit much?

These tower masters had shown up out of nowhere, hyped me up after eating some grapes, and now they were expecting me to perform magic like it was no big deal.

Their eyes brimmed with anticipation, as if I were about to perform a miracle.

The problem? I had never used magic before. Not once.

I couldn’t even remember the magic circle the Red Tower master had just drawn.

All I had seen was him scribbling in the air like a madman.

If someone could memorize that at first glance, they’d have been called a genius back on Earth.

Aren’t magicians supposed to rely more on intellect than physical skill? Is that why they’re treating this like it’s so easy?

‘Mom, Dad.’

The thought of publicly humiliating myself in front of these mages made my vision blur.

A wave of homesickness washed over me, and I suddenly missed my parents for no reason at all.

After hesitating for a moment, Evan reluctantly began scribbling nonsense in the air and recited the incantation.

“Fireball.”

Zzzzzap!

BOOM!

…?

A glowing, straight laser beam shot out from his fingertips, tearing through the air and exploding with a deafening noise.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

‘Did I… just do that?’

Evan doubted his own eyes. And for good reason—he hadn’t even memorized the magic circle for Fireball and had absolutely no expectations of success.

A laser beam? That wasn’t even on the table.

His original plan was simple: go through the motions of drawing a magic circle as a performance to satisfy the mage tower leaders.

A little flair, a bit of theatrics. That was it.

Having lived his entire life with no connection to magic, Evan thought the best-case scenario would be conjuring a tiny spark.

But now? He’d inadvertently fired off a laser straight out of a superhero movie.

‘Is this some kind of genre mix-up?’

The absurdity of the situation left him feeling awkward beyond words.

“Haha… ahem.”

Evan coughed to hide his embarrassment and turned to look at the mage tower leaders.

To his surprise, they were staring at him with wide, sparkling eyes—expressions that didn’t match their ages at all.

Their faces resembled those of children discovering a new toy for the first time.

‘What the heck?’

Evan was baffled by their unexpectedly positive reactions.

‘I don’t get it.’

Even if the magic he cast was a higher-level spell than Fireball, wasn’t it still off the mark? Casting a futuristic laser beam instead of a basic fireball seemed less like talent and more like a misfire.

It felt akin to answering “What’s 1 plus 1?” with “Zero, you idiot!”—bold but utterly wrong.

But that was a modern perspective. From the viewpoint of these fantasy world magicians, Evan was a prodigy blessed by the heavens.

“Ohhhhhh!”

“My goodness… what is this?”

“Amazing! Simply amazing!”

“Hololololo!”

The mage tower leaders, clad in their colorful robes, began dancing in excitement.

Dum-chit, dum-dum-dum!

Their movements resembled an animal courtship dance during mating season.

Evan, thoroughly disturbed, averted his gaze.

He’d heard rumors that the higher one climbed in the ranks of magic, the more their sanity deteriorated.

Judging by their behavior, these mages were quite advanced in their craft.

In other words, they were completely nuts.

“This is getting out of hand.”

Before leaving Tantar, the mage tower leaders flooded Evan with offers to join their respective towers, each trying to outdo the other.

However, despite their enthusiasm, none of the towers appealed to Evan.

“Not feeling it.”

It wasn’t that he’d developed high standards out of arrogance.

Even at the peak of his self-esteem, this was purely a matter of personal taste.

The leaders passionately described their towers’ specialties—manipulating elements like darkness, light, water, and fire.

“Boring.”

In his previous life, Evan had spent half his days engrossed in subculture: comics, anime, web novels, you name it. Generic elemental magic?

Snooze.

The same old flavors didn’t excite him anymore. That didn’t mean he’d resign himself to the life of a serf, though.

News of the mage tower leaders’ visit spread like wildfire, and Evan, despite being a farmer’s son, received permission from the lord to leave the estate.

This was an opportunity he couldn’t ignore.

“I’ll take my time and decide.”

Then, one day…

“I am the master of the Colorless Tower and the Fourth Princess of the Empire, Ayra Blondia.”

…???

The princess had arrived.

 

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