Fairy Tale Survival with Ability Copying

"Found you at last, Ms. Barbara!" Levi said with a grin.

Of course, it wasn't that he had actually found the whereabouts of the White Wizard Barbara outside the village. What he had found was her spawn point.

If Levi's guess was correct, this was where the fairy tale began—the place where she first met the story's male protagonist.

By sheer coincidence, Levi had also discovered through Detection that Blackstone Fork Village was part of the domain of an old count within the duchy. One of the count's sons, Mykes, was currently staying in the village.

Mykes was the old count's eldest son.

Blackstone Fork Village was the territory the old count had assigned to him as training.

In this era, when high-ranking nobles chose an heir, they would often first entrust a son with a village or an estate.

The purpose was to teach him how to govern land, collect taxes, administer justice, organize military forces, and handle the affairs of peasants and tenant farmers.

These were essential skills for any noble.

If he performed well, he would be granted greater authority and larger territories. But if he failed, he could easily be pushed aside.

Normally, only the eldest son received this opportunity.

And Mykes happened to be that eldest son.

The old count had always believed his eldest son's personality was too soft-hearted. In their social circle, kindness was considered a flaw—one that made survival among the nobility difficult. So he deliberately gave him this territory to temper him, hoping to cure him of what he saw as that bad habit.

The land he assigned him—Blackstone Fork Village—was anything but prosperous. On the contrary, it sat near the Thorn Wasteland, making it an isolated and impoverished village.

Year after year, it failed to meet the tax quota demanded by its lord.

The old count hoped his son would finally impress him by proving himself in Blackstone Fork Village.

By "proving himself," he meant squeezing enough taxes out of the villagers.

But the young count's son was genuinely kind.

He simply couldn't bring himself to do such a thing.

As a result, despite having governed the territory for quite some time, he hadn't even collected one-third of the required taxes.

The villagers adored him for it.

The old count, however, grew more disappointed with him by the day.

But that was another story.

Returning to the matter at hand—

Mykes's presence gave Levi the feeling that the gears of The Goose Girl at the Well were about to begin turning.

If that was the case, then Ms. Barbara would soon appear and deceive the young count's son—assuming, of course, that the old witch from the fairy tale really was the White Wizard Barbara that Rapunzel's godmother had spoken of.

Considering that she was said to be a being who had surpassed a Third-Ring Wizard...

Although Levi possessed the gifts and weapon Rapunzel's godmother had given him, he still had no intention of appearing before such a powerful witch without warning. Doing so might offend her, which in turn could jeopardize everything he planned afterward.

So, from atop the Cloud Spirit, Levi set his sights on the count's son.

If he could appear before the powerful witch together with the young noble, the situation would be entirely different.

The problem now was...

How was he supposed to naturally cross paths with the young count's son?

Levi looked down at the remote village on the edge of the wilderness.

An idea suddenly came to him.

He snapped his fingers.

All kinds of odds and ends instantly appeared atop the Cloud Spirit out of thin air—a purse, a small knife, a belt, a hat, fine salt, and various other goods.

Then a large cargo crate appeared as well.

Levi looked at it and frowned.

It was far too new.

It looked fake.

With another wave of his hand, the crate crumbled back into dust.

He cast Synthesis once more, and this time an old, weathered wooden crate appeared before him.

Using Wizard's Hand, he packed all the merchandise neatly inside until the crate was completely full.

He glanced down at himself again.

His clothes were too clean.

So he snapped his fingers once more.

A set of well-worn clothes covered in patches—but still neat and clean—appeared out of nowhere.

After changing into them, Levi slung the battered wooden crate over his back.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.

Then he jumped straight off the Cloud Spirit.

"Mykes, here I come."

…

On a small hill at the edge of the Thorn Wasteland—

A flock of white geese grazed beside a lush green meadow.

Standing behind them was a woman as tall and powerfully built as an ogress, holding a tree branch in her hand.

Not far away stood a small wooden cottage.

Outside it sat a long wooden bench, where a hunchbacked old woman was resting.

She had been basking in the sun while rubbing her aching waist and legs.

Then, all of a sudden...

She smiled mysteriously.

The ogress-like woman noticed and asked curiously, "Mother, what made you think of something so amusing?"

"Oh, I was just thinking about a clown of a junior. He's dressed himself up as a peddler—like a wolf wearing sheep's clothing, convinced it makes him look gentle."

"Mother... what are you talking about?"

The burly woman froze, utterly bewildered.

"It's nothing, my beautiful daughter. There's no need for you to concern yourself with such things." The hunchbacked old woman looked at her towering daughter and smiled mysteriously once more.

"My, Mother... you're being awfully strange today," the ogress-like woman remarked.

The hunchbacked old woman merely smiled without answering.

Just moments ago, the wind had told her that an unexpected guest had suddenly stepped into her plans.

This wasn't an accident.

Whoever it was had come prepared.

So...

What was he after?

Whatever his purpose, he could not be allowed to interfere with her plans.

Otherwise...

A sharp glint flashed deep within the old woman's eyes.

…

The late autumn wind swept loose gray dust through the low, crumbling earthen houses of Blackstone Fork Village.

Nestled on the edge of the Thorn Wasteland, the village leaned against a range of dark gray rocky hills. Jagged stones littered its entrance, thorny shrubs surrounded it, and everything about the place spoke of poverty and desolation.

The dirt roads were rutted and muddy. The walls of the houses were cracked and peeling, the fences leaned at odd angles, and the crops growing in the fields were sparse and unhealthy. One glance was enough to tell that harvests here were meager and life was hard.

It was the sort of place even wandering peddlers rarely bothered to visit.

Yet today, a plainly dressed figure carrying an oversized wooden crate walked into the tiny mountain village.

It was none other than Levi, disguised as a traveling merchant.

He wore a faded coarse linen shirt beneath a worn brown cloak. A thin layer of dust rested on his shoulders, and an old pinewood crate was strapped across his back.

The crate was heavy—well over a hundred pounds—and he appeared to struggle beneath its weight, looking every bit like a wandering peddler who had spent years scraping out a living on the road.

After looking around the village, he stopped beneath the withered old oak tree at the entrance.

Setting the crate down, he slowly opened it.

Inside, neatly arranged, were all kinds of goods that were hard to come by in remote villages like this: sharp little sickles, sturdy hemp cloth, sewing needles and colorful thread for mending clothes, herbal sachets to repel insects, simple ointments for scrapes and swelling, dried fruit that kept well, clay cups, wooden combs, iron nails, hemp rope, along with small chunks of salt and cheap spices.

In short, Levi had used Synthesis to create everything he could think of that the villagers might need. Producing these items barely consumed any of his Magic Power.

Even if a villager asked for something he didn't already have, it didn't matter.

He could simply use Synthesis on the spot, then pretend to pull it out of the crate.

His goal was simple:

Have everything.

For this undercover trip, he had prepared thoroughly.

To be honest, wandering from village to village in this era under the identity of a traveling merchant—experiencing life firsthand and seeing the landscapes and local customs for himself—was surprisingly enjoyable.

Walking among the clouds had its own refined charm.

Walking through the mountains had a different kind of appeal.

Of course...

That only worked because Levi was a Third-Ring Wizard.

Otherwise, it wouldn't have been enjoyable at all.

It would simply have been a miserable way to make a living.

After all, the life of a real traveling merchant was anything but easy.

There was nothing romantic about it.

It was a life filled with physical hardship and constant mental strain.

First came the terrible roads.

Most roads in this era were nothing more than unpaved dirt tracks. In dry weather they filled the air with dust; after rain they turned into seas of mud. Merchants had to carry heavy cargo crates—or drive wagons—across these roads for countless miles. The hardship spoke for itself.

Merchants were only human.

They needed places to sleep.

Yet they rarely enjoyed the comfort of a proper inn. Most nights were spent camping in the wilderness or seeking shelter in crude villages while enduring freezing winters, scorching summers, and relentless swarms of insects.

Traveling as a merchant was also a lonely life.

Aside from organized caravans, many peddlers traveled entirely alone. Enduring such prolonged isolation and uncertainty was an enormous psychological burden.

And every journey was dangerous.

Bandits and highway robbers posed the most immediate and common threat. Whether on lonely country roads or deep within forests, merchants could be attacked at any moment. Traders being murdered and their goods stolen was an all-too-common occurrence.

Then there were wars and territorial conflicts.

Regional wars or feuds between lords could sever trade routes overnight. Merchants not only lost their cargo but could also find themselves caught in battles—or worse, executed as suspected spies. Given how nobles tended to behave, such incidents were hardly rare.

Disease and accidents were another major problem.

In an age with primitive medical care, even a minor illness or injury could prove fatal. The exhaustion of constant travel, along with contaminated food and water, made sickness a constant threat.

Then there were hostile lords and countless checkpoints.

Traveling merchants had to pass through the domains of innumerable nobles, and every checkpoint could demand hefty tolls. Some greedy lords even confiscated cargo on a whim or fabricated charges simply to extort money.

But that's another story.

Returning to the old oak tree...

The moment Levi opened the crate and laid out his wares, he quickly caught the villagers' attention.

Blackstone Fork Village was remote and isolated, far from the main roads leading to the towns. Few merchants were willing to risk coming here. The mountain paths were infested with wild beasts, and bandits frequently roamed the nearby wilderness, leaving almost no passing traders. The villagers had little choice but to rely on their own fields for survival, while everyday necessities such as sewing supplies, iron tools, spices, crude medicinal ointments, and pottery were often impossible to buy no matter how much money they had.

Of course...

Most of them didn't have any money to begin with.

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