In the deep of night at two o'clock, the crowing of a rooster broke the desolate gray sky. The cold winter wind swept away all signs of life from the earth, leaving behind a multitude of withered remnants. The monks of the Gottingen Monastery rose from their beds, performed their morning ablutions, and left their communal dormitories, preparing for their 20-minute Christian matins.
Even though he had grown accustomed to it over the eight years, 20-year-old Horten Boden still harbored doubts about one significant reason why people in the Middle Ages had such short lifespans: their habit of treating deep of night as the early morning and reading the scriptures with a buzz in the dead of night.
Yes, Horten was a time traveler.
One day, while Horten was surfing the virtual waves in a war game aiming to unify the world, he inexplicably found himself transported back in time, becoming the new inhabitant of this body.
Horten Boden, a simple son of a knightly family in Gottingen County. Following the medieval noble tradition of sending younger sons to the church, Horten was sent to the Gottingen Monastery at the age of 12, becoming an ordinary monk.
The days of chanting prayers were excruciatingly monotonous.
Despite his noble birth, there were no special privileges for him within the monastery. They would rise at two in the morning for matins, read the Bible, sing hymns, study theology until eight in the morning, labor for four more hours, study again until three in the afternoon when they had their midday meal, and retire to bed after supper at five in the evening. They practiced abstinence and, in a monastery segregated by gender, temptation was nowhere to be found.
Such was the life of an ordinary monk. With such a rigorous schedule, it was no wonder their average lifespan barely reached 20 years.
The initial monks sought solitude and contemplation, but nowadays, most monks aimed to please the abbot and various officials in the hopes of securing cushy positions and a share of the lucrative trade in spirits and herbal remedies. Unfortunately, Horten was an honest man who refused to engage in sordid dealings, so he was often assigned to do the dirtiest, least profitable jobs. As a result, he found himself summoned by Abbot Scowke.
"Young son of a knight, you possess martial skills, and I know you can traverse the perilous wilderness. Please take this letter to the Countess of Gottingen Castle," Abbot Scowke instructed.
The abbot's expression was gentle, but anyone with a shred of common sense knew that beyond the town's borders, in the wilderness and forests, countless dangers lurked — bandits, marauding gangs, and deadly creatures like the Green Skins and wild beastmen. In the skies, there were scorpion-tailed lions and harpy-like creatures, while underground hid nameless and eerie creatures. Even routine mail deliveries required an armed escort.
And yet, the abbot wanted Horten to go alone?
Not only Horten but even his fellow dormitory mates displayed dissatisfaction, with someone challenging the abbot, "Forgive me for speaking bluntly, Abbot, but this is unfair!"
Abbot Scowke had always had a tarnished reputation. He cared little about raising the monastery's academic standards and focused instead on amassing wealth and promoting his cronies. During prayer gatherings, he always charged the highest fees while contributing the least. The priests he sent out were often illiterate relatives. Unfortunately, his brother held considerable power in Gottingen County, and no one dared to cross him.
Hence, Abbot Scowke arrogantly warned Horten, "Young man, do you think my orders are mere suggestions? Or perhaps you'd like someone else to go in your stead?"
The monastery was no ordinary school; it was a self-sustaining microcosm, and the abbot's privileges were absolute, deciding life and death for ordinary monks and the local populace. Horten's companions were intimidated, hastily retreating, as none of them wanted to be the sacrificial lamb.
At that moment, Horten, with an air of composure, declared, "I will go."
Surprisingly, he appeared entirely undaunted by the prospect of this perilous journey. Abbot Scowke, with a sly smile, remained unconvinced.
The audacity of this young lad, accepting the mission despite the grave risks?...
Horten did it on purpose.
In the medieval era, one's movements were heavily restricted, and leaving the monastery required a valid reason. Graduating from this place and going elsewhere was an even more challenging endeavor.
However, the abbot's intention to send Horten out was far from benevolent.
The village controlled by Horten Boden's parents sat on a vital trade route, generating considerable road toll revenue. The nefarious Scowke, along with his brother Howard, had repeatedly pressured Horten's father to yield the land. Now, Scowke had informed Horten that Howard was planning to launch an attack on the Boden village in the coming days!
As the gates of the monastery swung open, Horten excitedly mounted his donkey and bid farewell to his dormitory mates. "Make haste!"
But in this perilous era, how would Horten protect himself?
Arriving at the forest not far from the monastery, Horten stood still and silently invoked a "summoning" spell. Suddenly, a large group of figures appeared in the clearing before him.
That's right, Horten had inherited the system from the war game he played before his time travel!
In this game, one could unlock numerous units by continually advancing in ranks or titles to vie for supremacy.
Regrettably, Horten was still a "Nameless Novice" in his current status, with no rank or title, so he could only summon the most basic infantry units.
Of course, being a modern game, Horten could also spend a hefty sum of 250 gold coins to randomly draw lucky units. However, the drop rates were abysmal, and Horten had never received anything worthwhile from it.
Over the past eight years, Horten had earned a substantial number of points by completing various daily tasks, allowing him to exchange for rewards during the newbie protection period.
Now, he was ready to summon his own unit!
Basic Unit: Spearman Brigade (Basic troop count: 40, Monthly salary: 2 gold. A group of hapless peasants armed with spears. Who knows if they can withstand a knight's charge? Well, the nobles don't really care.)
Basic Unit: Peasant Archers (Basic troop count: 40, Monthly salary: 2 gold. Don't expect them to shoot very far, but at least they come cheap.)
Horten summoned two squads of Spearman Brigades and one squad of Peasant Archers. They were all peasants, with the Spearman Brigades wearing makeshift armor, thick cotton fabric, and sporting rudimentary helmets like small round ones or pot helmets. The archers, on the other hand, only had a bow, making them quite humble. As soon as they appeared, they instinctively gathered around Horten. Each squad consisted of 40 individuals but could be upgraded to 80 or 120 through advancements.
According to the knowledge the system had instilled in them, they were ordinary farmers following Horten. As long as Horten ensured their monthly salary and food supply, they would follow him loyally.
During the system's newbie protection period, they would receive a month's salary and food as a gift, but the rest would be Horten's responsibility. Maintaining three squads would cost him six gold coins every month, putting significant pressure on his finances.
However, Horten had a letter in his possession.
Upon breaking the seal and skimming its contents, Horten immediately grasped the situation.
This was not a letter from Scowke to the Countess; it was a plea for aid from the Countess, who was trapped in the mountains, addressed to the monastery.
The cunning and wicked Scowke intended for Horten to carry the letter, evidently aiming to shift the blame for the Countess's potential demise onto Horten's shoulders.
It was common knowledge that Scowke's elder brother, Howard, served as the right-hand man to the Countess of Gottingen and managed military affairs within the county, especially her security and travel. The timing was simply too coincidental for anyone to believe that there were no ulterior motives at play.
With the Countess's death, Howard could seize the opportunity to rally the nobles and secure his election to succeed her as the Count. It was indeed a well-scripted drama. The assault on Boden village appeared to be his appetizer before the main course.
"Too bad, Scowke, you picked the wrong guy!"
Horten clenched the letter, his eyes gleaming with confidence and determination.
After enduring eight years of hardship and waiting, he had finally seized the chance granted by fate. Whether it was unlocking units through system-required titles or saving this world, he was prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Horten had to spring into action, for the sake of rescuing Boden Village, it was essential to save the Countess first and gain her assistance to start.