Standing on the high roof, Chris had a bird's eye view of the entire castle. Surrounding him were thick city walls and flying black flags. Outside the castle were large wheat fields as well as forests and mountains further out.
He reached out and rubbed his forehead, because there was a dizzy and painful feeling like a hangover. He wanted to try hard to recall, how could he be here? And where exactly is this?
The fragment of memory was broken into a pair of exquisite leather shoes and crisp trousers. Chris remembered that he was standing on the top floor of a skyscraper before.
By the way, I remembered... I jumped off the building... I jumped from the top floor of my company... The memory fragments in Chris's mind connected together, 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 could only vaguely remember one name in his mind: Tangning.
Just when he was trying to recall more memories, it was like opening Pandora's box, and countless information appeared in his brain. This overwhelming information collided in Chris's mind, as if
The meridians are connected together.
The knowledge of forging, the knowledge of metallurgy...the various achievements and conclusions of modern industrial civilization are like fruits embedded in these veins that shine with golden light, turning into trunks and branches bit by bit.
In front of Chris's eyes, he seemed to see the entire history of mankind before he time traveled. The experience and methods, science and knowledge accumulated over thousands of years finally converged into a thriving golden tree, with lush branches and leaves in his mind.
Upright.
The industrial equipment he had never seen before, and the chemical knowledge he had studied for ten years, were all clearly engraved on the golden veins that made up the tree. Chris could touch them at will, just like in a library.
It is 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 crazily.
"Click!" The window behind him was pushed open from the inside, and a man in black armor stretched out his hand and shouted in horror: "My lord! My lord, don't jump!"
Chris subconsciously turned around and saw the man in armor behind him. Then he felt his feet were empty and his whole body leaned back.
He stretched out his hand to grab something, but couldn't catch anything. The moment 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 this Western style, which was cumbersome and impractical.
"Uh." He opened his dry lips and made a hoarse voice, alerting several anxious figures waiting beside the bed.
"My lord, wake up." The man in armor was the first to walk to Chris' bedside, followed by two middle-aged men in gorgeous robes.
"Where am I?" Chris asked weakly, feeling that his throat was about to catch fire.
The man in armor looked at a middle-aged man next to him, and then looked at Chris with some confusion: "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 traveled through time, and into a Westerner. It seemed that this was medieval Europe, and he happened to have extensive knowledge of medieval Europe.
Let it be what it is. Chris would never dare to jump off a building again. People who have committed suicide once often don't have the courage to die again.
What's more, catching up with such a fashionable thing as time travel, Chris now has no thoughts of death. He is ready to accept the benefits of time travel and enjoy a more exciting life journey here.
"Master Chris!" Just when Chris was thinking wildly, a middle-aged man who looked like a minister beside the bed said: "There is no disaster that cannot be overcome. You cannot commit suicide."
"Yes, sir, although we have to pay a heavy tax of 1,000 gold coins a year, there will always be a way to solve the problem." Another middle-aged man who also looked like a minister also comforted him.
These two minister-looking people were very interesting, and Chris looked at them curiously: one was bald but had a thick beard, and the other had long flowing hair but no beard.
Chris didn't know their names, so he thought for a moment and used the time traveler's most powerful weapon to pretend to have amnesia!
At this moment, he was possessed by Oscar, Golden Ball, Hundred Flowers, and Golden Rooster movie stars, and he said confidently: "I can't think of anything, my mind is blank."
The two middle-aged men looked at me and I looked at you, a little at a loss. The man in armor on the side spoke first. I saw him kneeling on one knee beside the bed in grief and crying: "Sir
!I am your most loyal general Waggron! Don’t you remember me?”
"I am your retainer Deans, Lord Chris." The long-haired middle-aged man introduced himself. As soon as he finished speaking, another bald man also introduced himself: "I am yours."
Retainer Strider...do you remember it?"
"I can't remember." Chris, who still looked confident, was very bachelor. Since he wanted to pretend to have amnesia, he had to pretend it to the end. He knew nothing about everything in front of him and had to start all over again.
He tried hard to awaken the memory in his mind, but he only saw the towering tree and the countless technologies with such powerful golden fingers. He must be able to prosper in this world.
Isn’t that what the novels say? Shooting cavalry with muskets, tearing down city walls with cannon, punching Germany, kicking England, lying drunk on the knees of a beautiful woman, and awakening to take over the world. This is a routine, full of farming literary routines!
Chris couldn't help but chuckle when he thought of this, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.
"Okay, uh... Wagron... I know this is a bit incredible, but I really can't remember anything." Chris tried to pretend to be very depressed: "Cough! I'm a little bit right now.
I'm hungry, can you prepare something to eat for me?"
Now that he has retainers and army generals, Chris feels that at least he won't have to worry about food. No matter how poor a lord is, he can still enjoy endless food.
Sure enough, after he mentioned that he was hungry, the waiter who came over prepared a sumptuous meal for him: chopped bread cubes, warm mashed potatoes, and a piece of half-cooked beef lying in the center of the plate.
It's a pity that there isn't even a decent bottle of red wine here.
Chris desperately used his knife and fork to deal with the unpalatable food in front of him, constantly complaining about the history of the development of Western food. Couldn't these Westerners transfer one thousandth of the cleverness they used in colonization to making delicious food?
What?
"By the way, what did you say about paying 1,000 gold coins?" Chris put down his knife and fork after eating some mashed potatoes and bread cubes.
The piece of beef with blood in it affected his appetite. In comparison, he still felt that the medium-rare steaks in the Western restaurants in his previous life were more tempting.
"Sir, the Arant Empire increased taxes a few days ago, raising our annual tax from 300 gold coins to 1,000 gold coins." Deans sat on Chris's left hand side and mentioned this troublesome matter.
"This income is almost all of Seris City. If we hand it over, we won't even have the money to feed the soldiers." Strider continued.
It seems that it is not easy to rise without overturning the mountain above your head. Chris sighed in his heart, and then realized another problem.
Wait! Which empire is this Arant Empire? He is familiar with European history, but he really doesn’t know the name of this country.
He even rummaged through the knowledge tree in his mind, and was even more certain that the Arant Empire definitely did not exist in the civilization of his previous life.
He... seemed to have thought this time-travel was too simple. After falling from the previous excitement, Chris realized that he was not traveling to a certain node in history, but to another world...
He raised his head, trying to relax his mood, and the huge mural above his head came into view. A giant dragon covered in unicorn armor was breathing fire among the crowd, and countless soldiers were destroying the monster.
"This mural... is really well painted." Chris subconsciously sighed as he was confused about his journey into another world.
"Yes, sir. What is painted here is the heroic story of your grandfather, the Lord of Elanthir Terrans, who led the army to slay the dragon." When mentioning this, Waggron, who commanded the castle army, finally became interested and spoke.
Echoed: "That was an amazing fight."
"Haha, this myth is really good. My ancestors were dragon-slaying warriors? Haha." Chris forced a smile and dismissed Wageron's statement.
Are the ancestors of this body slaying dragons? Are you kidding me? Making up mythological stories to increase the bloodline of your family is going too far. For example, if you slew a dragon five hundred years ago, how can you say that it was decades ago?
Did your grandfather slay a dragon?
etc!
"This...world...are there really dragons?" Chris, who suddenly realized something, widened his eyes and stopped laughing. He looked at his army commander Waggron and asked in a long voice in surprise.
.
"Of course." Wagron nodded and affirmed to his amnesiac master: "And there are many..."
