Chapter 2: Mysterious Place
"Damn Echidna, greed is the original sin. Even if you're a servant of God, you'll be expelled from the kingdom of God after death."
After walking out of the church, Karl cursed in a low voice. When he saw someone approaching, he bowed his head and muttered, "Merciful Lord of the Dawn…"
The Lord of Dawn is kind to His believers, and so Father Vic had given Karl time to show his "piety."
Thirty gold coins!
This was no small sum.
The Bergmann family had never been skilled at managing money.
On the contrary, they were quite adept at squandering it.
Karl's grandfather, also a baron, sold off his territory to maintain a wealthy lifestyle. His father had moved Karl to Signo City many years ago, but they hadn't been able to secure any property and had been renting in a less prosperous neighborhood.
In fact, to get his current job as a city inspector, Karl had nearly exhausted all of their savings.
"Well," Karl sighed. Rather than taking a carriage, he walked towards the bustling streets of Rouen.
This was the city's largest champagne market, the biggest trade hub in several surrounding marquisates. It was September, the Month of Plenty.
Even the serfs would have a little extra money now, and the market was lively with people.
But where there are crowds, there's often filth.
The streets were littered with dirty water and waste, the air thick with a mixture of smells, and the noise of merchants hawking their goods.
"Seafood from the Gulf of Puglia, all kinds of sea fish…"
"Flower cakes and soft bread with cheese, only six pence a portion, a favorite for children and the elderly."
"Fresh vegetables and fruit, affordable for everyone!"
"Bordeaux wine for the noblest of banquets—once you've tasted it, you'll never forget it…"
Karl moved cautiously through the throngs, his eyes darting around as he clutched his pockets. Thieves were common in places like this, and he, well-dressed and without an entourage, was an ideal target.
It wasn't until he reached a familiar shop that he relaxed a little.
"Udyr, is your father around?"
"He went to get some stock," replied Udyr, a dark-skinned boy of fifteen or sixteen, his voice shy.
"Give me a bucket of milk," Karl said, pausing. "The cheapest kind."
"Um?" Udyr hesitated. "Mr. Karl, that kind of milk isn't really... suitable for you. I mean, people do drink it, but…"
When times are tough, even dirty water can be swallowed. Low-quality milk is a luxury in comparison, but still not something someone of Karl's status should be buying.
"I know," Karl smiled. "And give me ten pounds of salted meat, the cheapest you have."
"This…" Udyr hesitated, then shrugged. "Alright."
"That'll be two crowns and three pence."
The "crown" had once been called a silver coin, though it wasn't pure silver. One crown was equal to twelve pence. A pound was ten crowns, also known as a gold pound because it contained some gold. And above that, there were the rare, pure gold coins valued at ten pounds each, with the portrait of the first king of Gondor on them. Beyond trade, they had great collectible value.
As a city inspector, Karl earned just over twenty pounds a month, a little more than two gold coins. Thirty gold coins wasn't an impossible amount, but it was still a daunting sum—especially with his usual expenses.
Karl had never been a saver, and now all he had to his name was a little over one gold coin. Thirty gold coins felt like a fortune.
…
After a quick bite to eat, Karl returned home to find Mrs. Mary already out at work—she had a long-term job at a bakery. Jenny was practicing her singing, her voice soft and clear, like a lark's call.
If she passed the test for the Barrow Singing Group, her future would change dramatically. In a world where common people had little access to education, singers could transcend social classes.
Mrs. Mary had insisted Jenny focus solely on her singing practice, knowing how important it was.
Karl listened for a moment, allowing the music to ease his troubled mind, then quietly went to his room.
"Thirty gold coins…" he muttered, setting down the milk and salted meat. He hesitated for a moment before taking the sword down from the wall.
It was a knight's broadsword, meant to be wielded with one or both hands. The blade gleamed coldly, and the weight—nearly three kilograms—meant it wasn't just for decoration. Swinging it for long periods took strength that only trained knights or squires had.
"Hah!"
Karl grunted, swinging the sword down with both hands. The blade stopped just a foot above the ground. A perfect vertical slash. Basic, but it showcased his skill.
The Bergmann family had risen to nobility through military service, and the Wind Sword Technique passed down through the generations was powerful knight-level swordsmanship.
Sadly, his grandfather, though he became a baron, was illiterate and never obtained the breathing technique that activated the "seed of life" and transformed the body. Without that, Karl had never had the chance to become a knight squire.
Maybe… there was still a chance.
In this world, knights held power and status far beyond ordinary men.
Karl practiced swordsmanship for a while, stopping when his forehead glistened with sweat. He spoke through gritted teeth, "If I'm pushed too far, I'll do anything."
Lying down on the bed, his sword still in hand, he closed his eyes.
If he were backed into a corner, he wouldn't resort to highway robbery. But he wasn't against less honorable methods to get those thirty gold coins.
He felt a strange sensation. A faint halo of light appeared, and when Karl opened his eyes, he found himself in a mysterious place.
Endless stars surrounded him, and beneath him was a stone chair carved with ancient patterns. The sword was still in his arms, and the milk and salted meat were still in his hands. But the environment had changed.
It felt as though he had arrived in outer space—or on the throne of a god, looking down on the stars.
Not only had the environment changed, but his emotions—his anxiety, worries, and excitement—were now completely under control.
His face was solemn, his brown eyes calm. His every thought was precise and rational.
At this moment, Karl felt like a god.
"Swish!"
He swung his sword again, the same vertical slash. This time, it was even more precise, powerful, and steady—at the level of a knight's squire.
'It's true...' Karl thought.
'In this place, I have absolute control over my thoughts and even greater control over my body.'
'What is this place?'
Taking a step forward, the scene around him shifted once again.
Time travel.
Not only had Karl traveled from his original world to this one, but he could now enter a mysterious place.