Wizard, I Have Another World

Chapter 1 Identity

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fire!

raging fire!

The flames burned everything.

Figures ran frantically and struggled helplessly in the flames, uttering shrill screams and wails.

finally,

Everything turned to ashes.

"call……"

Karl sat up abruptly in bed, breathing rapidly, his forehead covered in sweat, and his eyes still filled with fear.

The scene from a few days ago reappeared in my dream.

After calming himself down and wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he stood in front of the dressing mirror, dressed in a formal suit, accompanied by a rustling sound.

His slightly wavy black hair fell to his shoulders, and his brown eyes still held a hint of the confusion of someone just waking up from a deep sleep. His left cheek had suffered severe burns, and the scars marred his three-dimensional features, making his otherwise handsome appearance almost unbearable to look at.

Because I had something to do today, I specially changed into an expensive formal suit.

A long, blended garment similar to an old-fashioned suit combines the smoothness of silk with the texture of fur, and can accentuate the robust physique beneath the garment.

Carl Bergman was born in the Swick region of the Kingdom of Gondor and currently resides in the southern district of Signoria, where he serves as the city's inspector...

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

A fire a few days ago claimed my father's life, and he also suffered burns and psychological trauma.

then……

The soul was replaced by a transmigrator from another world.

That's right,

Karl is now a time traveler, and he is both strange and familiar with this world, including "himself".

"It's over."

"It's all in the past!"

After muttering a few words to himself in the mirror, Carl composed himself, went to the door, turned the handle, and opened the bedroom door.

living room.

The interior is decorated in a classic, dilapidated style reminiscent of medieval Europe.

A cabinet covered in reliefs stands on the left side of the room, its drawers featuring bronze handles that are similar in style to the door handles, suggesting they are from the same manufacturer.

Wooden floors, hardwood tables and chairs, an extinguished kerosene lamp, and the scent of vanilla and lemon permeated the air.

The pile of linen in the corner served some unknown purpose, becoming a temporary home for flour and dark bread.

……

"Your Excellency Baron Karl."

Jenny, carrying bread slices and milk, walked out of the kitchen with a beaming smile and slowly bent her knees towards him:

"You're awake. Please have breakfast."

This is a teenage girl, at the age of innocence and carefree joy. Her skin is as smooth as milk, and her voice is unique, clear, and melodious.

However, she clearly did not realize that her words were inappropriate.

"Jenny!" Landlady Mary's voice rang out behind her, filled with intense anger.

"Don't joke like that."

"Yes."

Jenny stopped smiling:

"Karl, I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Karl shook his head.

"You guys eat, I'm going to church first."

He is not a baron, or rather, not yet; inheriting his father's title requires going through certain procedures.

Inheriting a title means the death of one's father, which is not something to celebrate.

"Let's go to church."

Threepence.

"Give."

"Sir, please have a seat!"

As Karl sat in the carriage, his thoughts began to race.

Three pence was enough for an ordinary citizen to have a decent lunch, and the journey to the church was not far.

It seems that being a rickshaw driver is a good profession.

Driven by his past life as a working-class person and his unfamiliarity with this world, he habitually scrutinized everything around him.

The gaze shifted from the coachman to the horses.

The horses used to pull the carriages were a type of small horse called a "Du Ma," which was gentle and had a steady pace, making them very popular with noble ladies.

of course,

The price is also quite high.

Besides the carriages, there are also these meticulously decorated ones, which also cost a lot of money.

If you calculate it this way, becoming a coachman requires a large initial investment, so it might not be such a good job.

"Hmm... I'll be a baron soon, and the city inspector's income isn't bad, so there's no need to be as calculating as I was in my previous life."

Even without a barony, the title of baron is enough for me to live a decent life.

"It's a pity that this place isn't as convenient as modern society, and there are no clues to the emergence of technology; it's more like medieval Europe."

"On the contrary, the power of the Papacy is more secular; even the inheritance of titles has to go through the Papacy. How foolish..."

"It's not necessarily ignorance!"

The strange scenes in his memory made Karl shake his head slightly; this world was not that simple.

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

The church occupies a large area and has a solemn design. Devout believers are praying in the square.

The most striking feature is the spire, adorned with a wheat ear emblem that symbolizes a portion of the authority of the Lord of Dawn.

Abundant!

"By the Lord of Dawn..."

Carl bent slightly, passing the person coming from the opposite direction, and entered Father Vic's office through the side door.

"Father."

He stepped forward and spoke respectfully:

"I'm here to handle the handover of the baronial title."

"Karl Bergman?"

"it's me."

Father Vic had deep-set features and a solemn expression; his black uniform robe added an air of invisible authority to him.

Looking at Karl, he spoke slowly:

"Your father died fighting against the fire-stealers and protecting the civilians; he possessed noble qualities of courage and justice."

"Yes." Karl lowered his head, his voice low.

"I am proud of him."

"However..." Father Vic changed the subject:

"After discussions among several priests, it was decided that his title could not be inherited."

Ok?

Why?

Carl looked surprised, then quickly regained his senses:

"I did not question the priest's meaning; it's just that my father's bravery and fearlessness earned him the city lord's commendation."

"The spirit of nobility, besides courage and justice, also requires piety." Father Vic clasped his hands together:

"Unfortunately, we did not see any devotion to the Lord of Dawn in him."

"No!" Karl said solemnly.

"Before each meal, my father would lead me in prayer, and around the Holy Day, he would never touch meat or alcohol."

"His piety is beyond question!"

Whether it is true or not, this should be said.

The title of baron was of utmost importance to him; without it, he would be nothing more than a commoner.

Even the position of inspector might be precarious.

In this era, commoners were only slightly better off than serfs, and in his view, their living conditions were nothing short of miserable.

The thought of this made Karl's heart clench.

"Father, is there some misunderstanding?"

"Misunderstanding? There's no misunderstanding!"

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

"Karl, what month is it now?"

"Nine..." Karl changed the subject:

"The Moon of Abundance".

"Yes," Father Vic said with a sigh.

"During the month of abundance, even the serfs in the city would send black bread, but your father, who has been in Signoria for several years, has never contributed anything."

Karl opened his mouth.

Although they didn't send anything to the church, they always paid their tithes on time and never went short.

However, these words are probably of no use to Father Vic.

Karl's gaze lingered for a moment on the exquisite, obviously valuable bracelet on the priest's wrist, then he silently lowered his head, lost in thought.

(End of this chapter)