Chapter 23: Meteor Grass

The grand library's first floor bore an immense wall, meticulously engraved with classifications of books available on each level. Each inscription was precise, a testament to the boundless knowledge housed within.

Hutson had a clear objective—world geography. A quick scan revealed that such books were located on the second floor.

As he ascended the staircase, he noticed a self-study hall on the first floor, a vast space lined with orderly desks and chairs. Numerous students were already engrossed in their readings, their quiet focus filling the chamber. The sight stirred a strange nostalgia within him, a fleeting echo of the libraries from his past life.

Upon reaching the geography section, Hutson quickly discerned the limitations of the collection. Most books focused solely on the Colson Continent, while information on the world beyond was scarce and fragmented.

"AI chip, begin recording the contents of every book I examine. Expand the database."

"Task archived. Executing now."

After scouring the shelves, he found only three books concerning world geography, each incomplete and riddled with speculative accounts. Their authors had traveled little, relying on secondhand reports that lacked verification.

"AI chip, compile and summarize all relevant world geography information from these books."

He flipped through the pages rapidly. There was no need for meticulous reading; as long as AI chip captured the data, he could analyze it later.

"Compilation complete."

Hutson reviewed the results and was met with a fragmented world map—a patchwork of the known lands. The Colson Continent spanned an estimated fifteen million square kilometers. To its northwest lay the distant Karag Continent, separated from Colson by an expanse of ocean. Accounts estimated the distance to be six thousand kilometers, though no concrete data existed.

The map of Karag was likewise incomplete—only a sliver of its coastline had been charted, leaving its interior shrouded in mystery. Beyond these two continents, the world stretched into an abyss of uncharted seas and scattered islands.

"The lack of knowledge is staggering." Hutson exhaled, gazing at the piecemeal map. The people of Colson were shackled in ignorance, their understanding of the world beyond their shores nearly nonexistent. With the continent's primitive infrastructure, long-distance voyages were nearly impossible.

Still, one certainty remained—ships carrying wizard apprentices sailed toward Karag.

Claude had once mentioned that these ships arrived from the east, passing through Colson before heading northwest toward Karag. But the lands to the east were a complete enigma—no maps, no records, not even the faintest notion of their size or location.

"This world needs a Columbus," Hutson mused with a wry smile.

Having exhausted the library's meager offerings on world geography, he turned his focus to another pursuit—Meteor Grass.

The botany section resided on the fourth floor. Determined, he climbed the stairs and scoured the shelves until his fingers brushed against a worn tome titled The Encyclopedia of Rare Flora.

"Found it."

His eyes traced the delicate ink strokes on the aged parchment:

Meteor Grass—its petals blaze a fiery crimson, found only near fallen meteors. Possesses ornamental value; medicinal properties unknown.

A flicker of intrigue crossed Hutson's face as he searched for records of meteorite locations. His efforts bore fruit—there was a renowned meteor crater just ten kilometers outside Swan City.

With a decisive snap, he shut the book and swiftly returned to his quarters. Equipping himself with a steel bow and longsword, he mounted his steed and galloped toward the crater.

The meteor crater outside Swan City was vast, a yawning wound upon the earth, spanning five hundred meters in diameter. The soil was unlike any he had seen—burnt red, devoid of lush vegetation.

Hutson dismounted, his boots crunching against the hardened ground as he advanced cautiously into the crater's depths. His keen eyes scanned the terrain for any trace of Meteor Grass.

Scattered pools of water shimmered under the midday sun, and patches of stubborn vegetation clung to the scorched earth. He spent nearly an hour scouring the terrain before finally spotting it—a single, brilliant bloom nestled against the rocky wall at the crater's lowest point.

A flame-red flower, its petals glowing like embers in the dim light.

Drawing a small spade from his satchel, Hutson carefully dug around the plant's base, ensuring the roots remained intact. Just as he secured the specimen in his grasp—

"Warning! High-energy magical source rapidly approaching!"

His heart pounded. Before he could react, an immense force slammed into him, sending him tumbling across the crater. Pain seared through his body, but he refused to let go of the Meteor Grass.

"Severe burns detected on the back. Immediate use of Holy Healing recommended."

Gritting his teeth, Hutson forced himself upright, turning to face his assailant.

A boy—no older than sixteen—stood atop the crater's edge, his crimson hair wild and unruly, a smirk playing upon his lips.

"You're still alive?" the red-haired youth mused, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"AI chip, analyze the opponent's physical parameters."

"Strength: 1.5. Agility: 1.6. Constitution: 2.1. Mental Power: 3.9."

Hutson inhaled sharply. Mental Power: 3.9—higher than mine by 0.4.

Another first-class wizard apprentice.

Pain throbbed along his spine. The burns were severe—some patches of flesh already charred beyond recognition.

"That flower belongs to me—" the red-haired boy began, but Hutson had no interest in idle talk.

His sword was already drawn.

The youth barely lifted an eyebrow before raising his right hand. A verdant ring on his middle finger shimmered ominously, pulsing with magical energy.

With a flick of his wrist, a fireball the size of a basketball materialized, streaking through the air with lethal speed, hurtling straight toward Hutson.

The battlefield was set.

Here's the cinematic, epic fantasy-styled translation of your passage:

A Duel of Fire and Steel

The distance was too great—Hutson had no chance to strike first. He had no choice but to retreat, dodging to the side as the fireball blazed toward him.

With swift reflexes, he adjusted his posture mid-motion, shifting his weight to alter his trajectory. A powerful leap carried him behind a mound of earth just as the fireball struck where he had stood mere moments before.

The explosion sent waves of heat and dust surging through the air.

"Not a tracking spell," Hutson noted, eyes narrowing as he analyzed the attack.

Wasting no time, he drew his steel-forged bow, nocked an arrow, and peeked from cover. In a fluid motion, he loosed the shot with deadly precision.

But his opponent was quick.

"Partial Petrification!" the red-haired boy shouted.

The skin on his left hand transformed, its once-flesh texture hardening into a stone-like surface of pale gray.

The arrow met its mark—only to ricochet off his petrified palm, sparks flashing in the dim light.

The boy hissed in irritation. "That actually hurt!" His tone was laced with both surprise and annoyance.

Hutson, still crouched behind cover, grimaced. This was troublesome.

He possessed ample magical power, yet lacked offensive spells, leaving him at a frustrating disadvantage in direct combat.

"AI chip, disable my pain receptors."

"Acknowledged. Pain blocked."

Ignoring his burning wounds, Hutson channeled his magic into his pocket watch, activating a healing spell. 

A soothing golden light enveloped him, knitting his torn flesh back together. 

The agony from his scorched back dulled instantly as fresh skin mended over charred wounds.

"Remaining mana: 70%."

Across the battlefield, the red-haired boy sensed the magical disturbance. His eyes gleamed with predatory excitement.

"Oh? You actually have an enchanted item? That's quite the unexpected prize."

A smirk curled his lips as he took a slow step forward. "So, you're a wizard apprentice after all. But tell me—why don't you know a single offensive spell? Is it because your talent is pathetic? Or is your teacher just that incompetent?"

His tone dripped with mockery as he continued. "Even a place as barren as the Colson Continent should at least offer the most basic spells.

 Yet here you are, floundering like a commoner. And worse… your enchanted item appears to be purely for healing."

His smirk widened into a sneer. "You're dead."