The flames burned everything.

Human figures were running wildly and struggling helplessly in the flames, emitting miserable screams and wails.

In the end, everything turned to ashes.

"call……"

Karl suddenly sat up from the bed, breathing rapidly, his forehead covered with sweat, and there was still fear in his eyes.

The scene from a few days ago appeared in my dream again.

He calmed himself down, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and with a rustling sound, he changed into formal clothes and stood in front of the dressing mirror.

His black hair with some natural curls fell to his shoulders, his brown eyes still had a bit of confusion as if he had just woken up from sleep, his left cheek had suffered a serious burn, the scar destroyed his three-dimensional facial features and made his handsome face unbearable to look at.

Because I had something to do today, I changed into some expensive formal clothes.

The blended long coat, which is similar to an ancient suit, has the smoothness of silk and the texture of fur, and can better highlight the muscular figure underneath the clothes.

Carl Bergman was born in the Swick region of the Gondor Kingdom and currently lives in the southern part of Signor City. He is a city inspector...

My grandfather followed the Marquis Lawrence in his battles and was awarded the title of baron for his bravery, which was inherited by my father.

A fire a few days ago killed his father and he also suffered some degree of burns and mental shock.

Then……

The soul was replaced by a traveler from another world.

That's right.

Carl is now a time traveler, and he feels both unfamiliar and familiar with this world, including himself.

"It's over."

"It's over!"

Muttering a few words to himself in the mirror, Karl calmed himself down, walked to the door, turned the handle and opened the bedroom door.

living room.

The European medieval classical shabby style layout comes into view.

A cabinet covered with reliefs stands on the left side of the room. The bronze handles on the drawers are similar in style to the door handles, and they must have come from the same manufacturer.

Wooden floors, hardwood tables and chairs, extinguished kerosene lamps, and the smell of vanilla and lemon filled the air.

The pile of linen in the corner had some unknown purpose, but it became a temporary home for flour and black bread.

…

"Your Excellency Baron Karl."

Jenny came from the kitchen with bread and milk, smiling and slowly bending her knees towards him: "You are awake, please have breakfast."

This is a teenage girl, at the age of innocence and joy, with skin as smooth as milk and a unique, clear and pleasant voice.

But she obviously didn't realize that her words were inappropriate.

"Jenny!" The landlady Mary's voice sounded behind her, with a strong sense of anger:

"Don't joke about that."

"yes."

Jenny put away her smile:

"Karl, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter." Carl shook his head: "You guys eat, I'll go to church first."

He is not a baron, or not yet, and there are some procedures to follow to inherit his father's title.

Inheriting the title meant the death of one's father, which was not something to celebrate.

"To church."

"Threepence."

"Give."

"Sir, please take a seat!"

Sitting in the carriage, Carl began to think.

Threepence was enough for an ordinary citizen to have a good lunch, and the journey to the church was not far.

It seems that being a coachman is a good profession.

Out of his instinct as a working class person in his previous life and his unfamiliarity with this world, he habitually examined everything around him.

His eyes moved down from the driver to the horses.

The horse pulling the carriage was a pony called Duma, which had a gentle temperament and a steady pace, and was deeply loved by the noble ladies.

The price is also quite high.

In addition to the horses, there is also this carefully decorated carriage, which also costs a lot.

If you calculate it this way, becoming a rickshaw driver requires investing a large sum of money, which may not be a good job.

"Well... I will be a baron soon, and the income of a city inspector is not low, so there is no need to haggle like in my previous life."

'Even without a barony, a baron's title is still enough for me to live a decent life.'

'It's a pity that this place is not as convenient as modern society, and there are no clues of the embryonic stage of technology. It is more like medieval Europe.'

"On the contrary, the power of the Church is more secularized. Even the succession of the title must go through the Church. How foolish..."

'It's not necessarily stupid!'

The strange scenes in his memory made Carl shake his head slightly. This world is not that simple.

The carriage stopped some distance from the church out of respect for the great Lord of the Dawn.

The church covers a vast area and has a solemn shape. Pious believers are praying in the square.

The pointed tower is the most eye-catching, with the wheat ear logo on it symbolizing part of the authority of the Lord of Dawn.

Abundance!

"Lord of the Dawn..."

Carl bent his body slightly, crossed paths with the people coming from the opposite direction, and came to Father Vic's office through the side door.

"Father."

He stepped forward and said respectfully, "I am here to handle the handover procedures for the baron title."

"Karl Bergmann?"

"It's me."

Father Vick has deep facial features and a solemn expression, and his black uniform robe gives him an invisible majesty.

Looking at Carl, he spoke slowly: "Your father died fighting against the fire thieves and protecting civilians. He possessed a noble character of bravery and justice."

"Yes." Carl lowered his head and said in a low voice:

“I’m proud of him.”

"However..." Father Vick changed the subject: "After consultation with several priests, his title cannot be inherited."

Hmm? "Why?"

Carl looked surprised, then came back to his senses: "I didn't question the priest's meaning, but my father's bravery was commended by the city lord."

"In addition to bravery and justice, the spirit of nobility also requires piety." Father Vic clasped his hands together: "Unfortunately, we did not see his piety to the Lord of the Dawn."

"No!" Carl said sternly, "Before every meal, my father would lead me in prayer, and around the Holy Mass, I never ate meat or drank alcohol."

"His piety is beyond doubt!"

Whether it is true or not, this needs to be said.

The title of baron was of vital importance to him; without it, he would be just a commoner.

Even the position of inspector may not be secure.

The status of common people in this era was only slightly higher than that of serfs, and in his opinion, their living environment was extremely miserable.

When he thought of this, Karl's heart ached.

"Father, is there any misunderstanding?"

"Misunderstanding? There is no misunderstanding!"

Father Vick shook his head, his expression solemn, and asked:

"Karl, what month is it?"

"Nine..." Carl changed the subject: "The Moon of Plenty."

"Yes." Father Vic sighed, "In the month of plenty, even the serfs in the city would send black bread, but your father has been in Signo for several years and has never donated anything."

Carl opened his mouth.

Although they did not send anything to the church, they paid the tithes on time and never had a shortage.

But these words may be of no use to Father Vic.

His eyes paused on the exquisite and obviously valuable bracelet on the priest's wrist, and Carl lowered his head silently, lost in thought.

(End of this chapter)