A Crossing

Standing on the high roof, Chris had a bird's-eye view of the entire castle. There were thick walls and flying black flags around him. Outside the castle, there were large fields of wheat and forests and mountains beyond.

He reached out and rubbed his forehead, because there was a hangover dizziness there. He wanted to try hard to recall, how could he be here? And where is this?

Fragments of memory snapped over a pair of delicate leather shoes and crisp trousers, and Chris remembered that he was standing on the top floor of a skyscraper.

By the way, I remember... I jumped off the building... I jumped on the top floor of my company... The memory fragments in Chris's mind were coherent, reminding him of many things.

In his memory, he was already dead, but now he was standing on the roof of a castle, and he only vaguely remembered one name: Tangning.

Just as he tried to recall more memories, it seemed like he had opened Pandora's box, and countless information appeared in his brain. The overwhelming amount of information collided in Chris's mind, connecting like meridians.

The knowledge of forging, the knowledge of metallurgy... The various achievements and conclusions of modern industrial civilization are embedded in these golden veins like fruits, turning into trunks and branches little by little.

In front of Chris's eyes, he seemed to see the entire history of mankind before he crossed. The experience, methods, science, and knowledge accumulated over thousands of years finally converged into a thriving golden tree, with luxuriant branches and leaves standing in the sky in his mind.

The industrial equipment he had never seen before, the chemical knowledge he had studied for ten years, were all clearly engraved on the golden veins that formed the big tree, and Chris could touch it, just like in a library. It's as convenient as flipping through a monograph.

"Ah!" This process gave him a splitting headache, Chris subconsciously hugged his head, his body twisted and struggled in pain, and even made him retching frantically.

"Crack!" The window behind him was pushed open, and a man in black armor stretched out his hand and shouted in horror, "Sir! Don't jump, my lord!"

Chris turned his head subconsciously and saw the man in armor behind him, and then he felt that his feet were empty, and the whole person leaned back.

He stretched out his hand to grab something, but couldn't catch anything. When he fell, he really wanted to shout loudly to the bastard behind him, "I didn't want to jump..."

...

When Chris opened his eyes again, he saw the top of the bed covered with silk. He didn't like the Western style, cumbersome and unpractical.

"Uh." Pulling off his dry lips, he made a hoarse voice, which aroused several anxious figures waiting there by the bed.

"My lord is awake." The man in armor walked to Chris' bed first, followed by two middle-aged men in gorgeous robes.

"Where the hell am I?" Chris asked weakly, feeling that his throat was about to catch fire.

The man in the armor looked at a middle-aged man beside him, and then looked at Chris with some doubts: "Sir, you are in your bedroom."

Because he had read countless time-travel novels when he was bored, Chris was still very calm at this time. He knew that he was not dreaming and that everything in front of him was real.

He transmigrated, and transmigrated to a Westerner. It seems that this is medieval Europe, and he happens to be familiar with medieval Europe as well.

It's safe to do so. He would never dare to ask Chris to jump off the building again. People who have committed suicide once often don't have the courage to die again.

What's more, to catch up with such a fashionable thing as time travel, Chris doesn't have any thoughts of death now.

He is ready to accept the travel benefits and enjoy a more exciting life journey here.

"Master Chris!" Just when Chris was thinking about it, a middle-aged man who looked like a minister said by the bed: "There is no disaster that can't be overcome, you can't commit suicide."

"Yes, my lord, although we have to pay a heavy tax of 1,000 gold coins a year, there will always be a solution." Another middle-aged man who also looked like a minister also comforted.

These two minister-like people were very interesting, and Chris looked at them curiously: one was bald but had a thick beard, the other had long flowing hair but no beard.

Chris didn't know the names of the two of them, so he thought for a while, and resorted to the strongest killer of transmigrators - pretending to have amnesia!

At this moment, he saw Oscar, Golden Ball, Hundred Blossoms, Golden Rooster possessing all kinds of movie stars, and he said confidently: "I can't remember anything, my mind is blank."

Two middle-aged people, you look at me, I look at you, a little overwhelmed. The man in the armor on the side opened his mouth first—I saw him kneeling on one knee beside the bed in grief and crying: "My lord! I am your most loyal general, Vagron! You don't remember me. ?"

"I'm your retainer Deans, Lord Chris." The middle-aged man with long hair introduced himself. As soon as he finished speaking, another bald man also introduced himself: "I'm your retainer Stryd... Do you remember?"

"I can't remember." Chris, who still had a confident face, was a bachelor. Since he wanted to pretend to have amnesia, he had to do it to the end. He didn't know anything about what was in front of him and had to start all over again.

He tried hard to wake up the memory in his mind, but he only saw the towering tree and the countless technologies-with such a powerful golden finger, he would definitely be able to get along well in this world. Bar.

Isn't that what the novel says? Fighting cavalry with muskets, demolishing city walls with cannons, punching Germany, kicking England, drunkenly lying on the knees of beauties, waking up and taking control of the world—this is a routine, full of farming routines!

Thinking of this, Chris couldn't help but chuckle, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

"Okay, uh...Vagron...I know it's a little weird, but I really can't remember anything." Chris tried his best to look depressed: "Cough! I'm hungry, can you prepare me something to eat?"

Now that he has retainers and generals in the army, Chris feels that at least he won't worry about eating. No matter how poor a lord is, he still has endless delicacies to enjoy.

Sure enough, after he mentioned that he was hungry, the waiter who arrived prepared a sumptuous meal for him: chopped bread, warm mashed potatoes, a half-cooked piece of beef lying in the middle of the plate, Too bad there isn't even a decent bottle of red wine here.

Chris desperately dealt with the unpalatable food in front of him with a knife and fork, and kept complaining about the history of the development of Western food in his heart - can't these Westerners transfer one-thousandth of the cleverness used in colonization to making On the food?

"By the way, what exactly is the matter you said about paying 1,000 gold coins?" After Chris ate some mashed potatoes and bread cubes, he put down his knife and fork.

The bloodshot beef affected his appetite. Comparatively speaking, he still felt that the medium-rare steaks in the western restaurant in his previous life were more attractive.

"My lord, the Arrant Empire raised taxes a few days ago, increasing our annual tax from 300 gold coins to 1,000 gold coins." Deans sat on Chris' left hand and mentioned this troublesome thing.

"This income is almost all of Serris City. If we hand it over, then we won't even have the money to support the soldiers." Stried continued.

It seems that it is not easy to rise up without overthrowing the mountain above. Chris sighed in his heart, and then realized another problem.

and many more! This Arlantean Empire... Which Empire is it? He is familiar with European history, but he really does not know the name of this country.

He even rummaged through the knowledge tree in his mind, and then became more certain that the Arlantean Empire definitely did not exist in the civilization of his previous life.

I... seem to have made this time-travel simple. Falling from the bottom of the previous excitement, Chris realized that he had not crossed a certain node in history, but had crossed to another world...

He raised his head and wanted to relieve his mood. The huge mural on the top of his head came into his eyes. A giant dragon covered in scale armor was breathing flames in the crowd, and countless soldiers were destroying this monster.

"This mural...the painting is really good." Subconsciously, Chris, who was confused about his journey through another world, sighed.

"Yes, my lord. This is the heroic story of your grandfather, Lord Alanhir Terrance, who led the army to slay dragons." Speaking of this, Vagron, who was in command of the castle army, finally became interested and spoke. He echoed: "It was an amazing battle."

"Haha, this myth is really good, my ancestors were dragon slayers? Haha." Chris squeezed out a smile and dismissed Vagron's statement.

The ancestors of this body slaughtered dragons? What a joke, it would be a bit too far to make up myths and stories to increase the bloodline of one's own family. For example, if you slaughtered a dragon five hundred years ago, how can you say that your grandfather slaughtered a dragon a few decades ago. ?

and many more!

"This...world...is there really dragons?" Chris, who suddenly realized something, widened his eyes and stopped smiling. He looked at his army commander, Vagron, and asked in a long voice in surprise. .

"Of course." Vagron nodded and affirmed to his master who had lost his memory: "And there are many..."