Sorcery Monarch

Chapter 1: Transmigration

Year 129 of the Netheril Era, March.

Western Continent, East Coast.

This region, newly brought under the rule of the Netheril Empire, is still filled with wilderness and danger.

The Seventon Council of the Netheril Empire issued a call for pioneering, which was met with enthusiasm by nobles across the land, sparking a wave of grand expeditions.

Many second sons and lower-ranked heirs of noble families were forced to embark on these perilous pioneering journeys.

A breeze blew, dispersing the hazy mist, revealing a muddy dirt road filled with water puddles.

A caravan of over a hundred people slowly moved along the winding dirt road.

The poor road conditions severely slowed their progress.

Stepping down, the faintly stinking, soft mud squelched aside, stubbornly clinging to the soles, making the boots heavier.

After just a few dozen steps, the soles would be thick with mud, forcing one to slow down to clean it off; otherwise, their stamina would quickly be drained.

Fortunately, the members of this caravan were all seasoned veterans, long accustomed to such roads, and their skillful movements in cleaning the mud off their soles allowed them to maintain a slow yet steady pace.

Most of them were young men wearing light, rough clothing, mentally prepared for the long journey ahead.

They pushed ten fully loaded wooden carts, aiding the hardworking mules at the front.

At the center of the caravan, ten soldiers in leather armor, wearing expressions of worry and uncertainty about the future, surrounded a carriage.

The carriage’s door frame bore the family crest of a white magic tower, now stained with spots of mud.

This was the crest of the Serre family, a well-known family of spellcasting nobles on the Carl Plains, though unheard of on the East Coast.

A faint stench entered his nose, and Matthew, somewhat dazed, glanced out the window.

Matthew was a transmigrator, having been playing a game called “Arcane Emperor” before his transmigration.

The kingdom he established was under siege by the gods, on the brink of collapse.

In his final despair, he activated the “Destruction Spell,” bringing down the most hateful Death God Yegg, the Great Evil God Lathander, and the Goddess of Fate Taji along with it.

Depressed, Matthew, at the moment of his kingdom’s destruction, thought he would enter the character creation screen for a new game, but instead, he found himself transmigrated into the world of “Arcane Emperor,” becoming Matthew Serre.

Matthew acquired Matthew Serre’s memories, only to discover that the reason he was reborn in this body was that it had once died.

Poisoned to death!

In his soul state, Matthew Serre, unwilling to accept the fate of an early death, used a mysterious magical artifact to pray to the River of Fate, seeking a second chance.

Fate played a joke on him.

Matthew Serre got his second chance, but at the cost of his soul!

Over the next few days, Matthew came to terms with his transmigration to this world, continuously absorbing memories to ensure he wouldn’t reveal any flaws.

Because this was a dangerous world filled with spells, dragons, elves, dwarves, gods, and other fantastical beings.

Possession by evil spirits or soul usurpation was not uncommon, and even slightly higher-level spellcasters or priests could detect that Matthew’s soul was foreign!

Therefore, he had to be extremely careful!

Of course, there was another, more important reason why Matthew had been hiding in the carriage these days: to protect his own life!

To prevent himself from “committing suicide” again!

Fortunately, the inside of this carriage was equipped with spatial magic, accommodating a resting bedroom, with all necessary facilities, allowing Matthew to live comfortably within.

It was only today that Matthew successfully absorbed all the memories and fully merged with this body.

At the same time, Matthew also gained control of the inheritance left by his predecessor.

Matthew Serre was 18 years old this year.

His father was Count Serre, André Serre, an 18th-level near-legendary arcanist.

His mother was from the Eastern Empire, and after giving birth to Matthew, she returned to the Eastern Continent.

Matthew Serre was originally extraordinarily gifted.

At the age of 2, he could already cast minor spells.

At 6, he became a 1st-level arcanist.

He was a super genius on par with Carl Sass of the Carl family!

Matthew Serre should have, like Carl Sass, become one of the most powerful beings in the Netheril Empire—the Great Arcanist!

However, just a month after Matthew Serre’s “genius” reputation spread.

A bizarre attack severely damaged Matthew Serre’s soul, depriving him of the opportunity to advance in his profession!

Before he could soar to the skies, he had already fallen into obscurity!

In the days that followed, Matthew Serre and the Serre family tried everything, using all means to heal the soul injury, but all efforts failed.

Gradually, Matthew Serre lost the full support of his family, becoming the “eternal 1st-level arcanist.”

Disheartened, he grew up in mediocrity until he was 18.

He should have spent his life under the protection of his family, with his greatest contribution being the production of a few bloodline heirs.

Just when Matthew Serre had lost all hope, a mysterious figure approached him.

The mysterious person claimed they could heal Matthew Serre’s soul and even demonstrated by curing a soul-wounded professional, restoring their sanity and giving them hope to advance again.

Naturally, Matthew Serre could not refuse such “help” and unhesitatingly followed the person’s guidance to become a pioneering lord.

The reason Matthew Serre gave to the outside world was: to contribute to the Serre family’s pioneering efforts and to try another path.

Having endured countless praises and mockery, Matthew Serre left the family with unspeakable hope and the ridicule of others.

He was to travel several hundred kilometers eastward to the agreed territory with the mysterious person—Bay Village!

There, Matthew Serre thought he would embrace a new life, but the mysterious person who had been following him suddenly disappeared.

The next night, Matthew Serre was poisoned to death, with a half-drunk bottle of poison beside him and a very thoughtfully written “suicide note.”

The poisoner was so meticulous that even the handwriting was almost indistinguishable from the real thing, leaving the “awakened” Matthew utterly shocked.

Matthew had spent decades in “Arcane Emperor.”

He had grown from an ordinary mage to a 39th-level Great Arcanist, ruling over a magical kingdom, with vast experience and knowledge.

He had defeated countless powerful enemies, hunted dragons, slaughtered demons, defeated demigod liches, and even brought gods down with him.

He knew and mastered various resurrection methods, but none were as bizarre as what Matthew Serre had experienced.

He smelled something very familiar.

The scent of conspiracy!

“Who wants me dead?”

“It definitely can’t be the other heirs of the family because while they’re stupid, they’re not foolish enough to target someone as non-threatening as me.”

“Nor should it be the mysterious person’s accomplices...”

“Based on the abilities shown in the memories, the person must be at least a high-level professional, and there’s no need for them to go through such trouble to kill me.”

“Could it be that the person who wants me dead is related to the attacker from when I was six?”

“And they’ve arranged everything so perfectly, even more ‘considerate’ than a son!”

Over the past few days, Matthew had been carefully pondering and secretly observing everyone in the caravan, identifying some suspicious individuals but ultimately ruling them out as threats.

“Crack,” came a sound.

Then, a mule’s neigh echoed.

Matthew snapped out of his thoughts, gripping his staff, then slowly relaxing his hold as a cold glint flashed in his dark eyes:

“Oh? It’s happening again?”

“It seems the other side is already growing impatient.”

“Since they haven’t chosen to attack outright, it means they must have some reservations, which means I still have a chance to survive...”

The unknown danger and dire situation did not crush Matthew; instead, it gave him a sense of the thrill of returning to a fierce battle.

“Come on, let me see who wants to kill me!”

“And who will be whose prey!”

Outside, the cart pushers cursed inwardly, stopping in their tracks as they anxiously looked over.

Sure enough, a bad situation had occurred: one of the cart’s wheels had sunk into a mud pit, nearly toppling the mule that was dragging it.

Fortunately, the cargo was tightly secured and did not fall onto the muddy road—no one wanted to taste mud-scented black bread again.

“What are you standing there for? Quickly bring some stones to fill it, then spread a layer of gravel, and finally tamp it down with the millstone. Don’t even think about slacking off!”

“Old John? Where did you go? Hurry up and take a look.”

Mr. Ralph, the steward, was very displeased and immediately began directing the repairs.

Old John patted the mule’s neck, smoothed its mane, and calmed the long-neighing mule.

Once the large stones were placed in the pit, followed by some smaller ones, Old John directed a few young men to lift the wheel using levers from the cart’s side.

At the same time, he tugged the mule’s reins, using its strength to pull the cart out of the mud pit.

The steward, Ralph, anxiously glanced at the sky and spoke to Old John in an impatient tone:

“You’d better be careful; if there’s another problem on the road, forget about lunch!”

Bending down for a closer look, the wrinkles on Old John’s face deepened, and after shaking his head, he said:

“The axle is cracked. It’ll need to be repaired before we can move on; it’ll take about two hours.”

“Two hours? Then we won’t make it to Sweetwater Town by noon. That’s not acceptable!”

Ralph shook his head hurriedly, displeased. He bent down to inspect the crack in the axle, clenched his teeth, and walked towards the carriage in the center of the convoy.

The steward suppressed his nervous thoughts, gently knocked on the door, and whispered:

“Master Matthew, the cart ahead has some issues and needs two hours of repair.”

“Should we continue to Sweetwater Town so that we can arrive by noon and have lunch with Baron Carlisle?”

Matthew was just about to open the door when a flash of light appeared in his vision, and a familiar interface popped up in front of him.

“Activate the choice of fate: Choose to leave (Misfortune 5), Choose to stay (Fortune 4).”

A slow-paced farming novel.

A brand new story of an arcanist.Chapter 318: Refugee WaveChapter 456: Authority in Words