Leaves slowly fell from the almost withered tree, indicating the winter was already there.
People were rushing from one place to another, their feet leaving imprints on the newly settled snow.
In this hustle-bustle setting of the old city, the gasping of people could be heard from a dark alley, dozens of people sitting in a line while suffering from cold.
"Hah hah", A child's hands trembled as the cold wind of extreme north blew, brushing past his reddened skin and rough hair.
His body was covered in tattered clothes that couldn't even protect him from a bit of the chillness.
Clutching his hands tightly around his knees, he tried not to let even a small bit of heat leave his body.
'It is too cold.'
His feet had already turned cold and frosty due to no footwear in the snow.
Lucien was lost in his thoughts, amidst the unbearable cold.
It had been three weeks since Lucien had been in this world. After dying in his old world, he had transmigrated into this world.
It was a medieval world with nothing much to speak of.
Humanity hadn't developed steam engines and electricity, but it wasn't all that bad…
Until he found out he had reincarnated into the body of a young boy, not more than twelve years old.
He had no capital to speak of nor any roof over his head.
Wasn't reincarnation all about reincarnating into the body of a wealthy young lord or similar, but who could Lucien even rant to?
"From a world infested with zombies, I reincarnated into one where…hah, I would die of cold."
"Though having no food in both worlds is common haha,"
Hypothermia was slowly starting to take effect on his body, the temperature was starting to drop as his eyes flickered.
Suddenly an uproar erupted around him as people started running here and there, adding to the hustle and bustle of the city.
Their erratic behavior caught the eyes of everyone as one beggar with some better clothes got up and stopped one of the people who was running.
"Brother! What happened? Did some noble come down from the capital or something?"
"Who is your brother? Keep your hands to yourself! Hmph"
With a look of disgust, the man pushed the beggar causing him to fall.
"As for what I was running for, a heretic has been caught. People are running to see him burn at the stake!" The man's eyes held a tint of madness.
"Ah, I see."
Listening to all this from the side, Lucien slowly got up. His feet made creaking sounds yet he persisted, passing the beggar he kept on walking.
His steps were slow but firm, after all, to survive he needed fire, and what better way was to get it through a bonfire.
Just..that this one wasn't fueled by wood but instead by a person…
The wind was still fiercely blowing but he shielded his face with his bare hands, huffing on them to keep them somewhat heated.
From the distance, Lucien saw a huge stake, at least around a two-story house in the middle of the town square.
The closer he got the less wind he felt due to a huge amount of people ahead shielding him, but more than that he heard screams.
Horrifying screams that bellowed something deep inside him, and ignited a fear that took its roots deep down his being.
But he kept going, passing between people's legs due to his small height.
Finally, he was at the forefront, but the sight before him was horrifying, to say the least.
Blood flowed down the wooden stake, as the man's palms, thighs, and chest were pinned on the blackened wood with nails.
The stake was already charred, indicating this was not the first it was used for burning someone.
People kept throwing stones at the man while they held torches in the dark night.
The barrage of stones was endless, dyeing the ground crimson red but the crowd didn't care.
Hell, on one end of the crowd, someone was even selling stones just for today's night, going as low as two for one copper coin.
But the person in the spotlight kept on muttering words endlessly, either pleading to get saved or to kill him faster.
Lucien took his bets on the latter when he suddenly had to move out of the way.
It wasn't just him but everyone around him, they gave way to the person who seemed to be some sort of priest.
The man wore a white gown outfit with laces of golden all over while on his head rested a biretta.
In the man's hand was a torch burning in crimson flames, his eyes focused solely on the stake.
Nearing the stake, he shouted in a charismatic voice. "In the name of our holy faith, we cast out this heretic who dares to defy the divine order!"
"In the name of our sacred duty, we cleanse the heretic's corruption." He said as he raised his voice to the highest decibel.
He recited the man's crime and more preachings of the great church, while people became enamoured by his sermon.
His hands moved like an orchestra conductor, directing people in unison.
"May god have mercy on his soul!"
With the chorus as the signal, the priest threw a torch onto the man.
A sizzling sound erupted as the crimson flame latched onto the heretic, consuming him completely.
His screams echoed all around the square but no one gave a shit. They were engrossed in their doctrine and their religion.
"I curse you to death! YOU AND YOUR DAMN GOD" The heretic's blood-curdling sound came from the flames.
"SOMEDAY YOU AND YOUR GOD WILL BE DRAGGED DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS, CRAWLING IN HELL FOR ETERNITY."
For some reason, Lucien felt that the man's eyes were on him but he couldn't be sure.
Why would a dying man look at a beggar for no reason?
And a heretic at that.
Instead of the warm feeling he had come there to feel, he felt chills, far greater than the northern winds.
"THROUGH THE GREAT DAO THEY PREACH, YOU WILL DRAG THEM DOWN TO THE RUGS!" The man's hands tore off his flesh from the stake and pointed to where Lucien was standing.
But before anyone could notice, the life in his eyes vanished as his body became limp.
The sound of flame was all over the place but Lucien only felt a sense of dread the more he looked at the ongoing scene.
Suddenly a dark gooey substance flowed out of the man's remains and rushed towards Lucien.
It was something ethereal and nobody could notice it, except him.
The sky darkened as his vision blurred the more the substance wrapped around him.
He had just come here to get warm, and maybe get food.
After all this world celebrated the death of heretics and he was wrapped up in it.
Biretta: A long-ass cap that priests wear. Usually white.