Chapter 001: Transmigration

The azure sky stretched endlessly, like a boundless sapphire. Not a single white cloud in sight.

A few black birds screeched as they flew by.

Below was a vast expanse of lush green forest. Between the trees, a winding path snaked its way through. A horse-drawn cart loaded with golden straw moved slowly forward, the rhythmic sound of hooves echoing along the trail.

On top of the golden straw, a young boy of about thirteen or fourteen lay down. He had short brown hair, neither handsome nor ugly—just very ordinary.

The boy's eyes were tightly shut, as if he were sleeping.

Up front, the coachman carefully guided the old horse, trying to keep the ride as smooth as possible, seemingly worried about disturbing the boy in the back.

Bang!!!

A loud crash from the cart—the wheel had struck a sharp stone, jolting the entire carriage. It came to an abrupt stop.

Edward Scott jolted all over, waking up instantly from his sleep.

His somewhat sallow face scrunched up before he slowly opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" the boy asked weakly, his voice lacking strength.

He sniffed, catching the fresh scent of grass.

Only then did he look around in confusion.

"Sorry, Second Young Master Andrew, the cart hit a stone and disturbed your rest." The coachman, a sturdy middle-aged man, was dressed in plain, grayish linen clothes.

Seeing Edward Scott awake, he quickly turned around and apologized, then took out his tools to check if the cart's wheel was damaged.

"Second Young Master Andrew?" Edward Scott was stunned, looking around to make sure no one else was there. He pointed at his own nose and asked, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes." The coachman nodded honestly as he checked the wheel. "You just fell off the horse and were badly hurt. You need to rest more. I'm the only one left in town, and I couldn't find a better cart for now, so I have to trouble you with this one." The dark-skinned man gave a simple, honest smile.

Edward Scott's expression changed instantly, as if he realized something.

"No... that's not right..." he muttered, quickly glancing down at himself.

The black hunting suit fit perfectly, a red belt wrapped around his waist, with a black whip tied to the side.

A thin body, fair hands. Pain throbbed from his knees and the back of his head.

Suddenly, a sharp pain surged into his mind. Scenes of memories flooded his brain.

Edward Scott's eyes rolled back and he collapsed, lying stiffly on the straw. Vaguely, he heard the coachman's anxious, panicked shouts...

※※※

He didn't know how much time had passed.

Edward Scott slowly woke up again.

There was now a set of memories in his mind that didn't belong to him.

They belonged to someone named Andrew Reed, the second son of a rural noble family—an utterly ordinary young noble.

During a break, he had gone riding with friends and fallen off his horse, which gave Edward Scott the chance to take over.

At the same time, some memories of his own life also flooded into Edward Scott's mind.

This was a world very similar to medieval Europe.

He was in a country called the Kingdom of Rudin—a very large nation. The Lio family was a relatively wealthy rural noble house in the kingdom. Not the best, but better than most.

The family territory was located on the edge of a vast forest in the Yara Province.

In Andrew's memory, he only knew that his father, Baron Lio, ruled over three knight's fiefs, including five villages and towns, with a yearly population count of at least five thousand. Riding a horse from one end of the territory to the other at full speed would take at least an hour. It was a very large domain.

Andrew Reed, the second son of Baron Lio, was now the highest-ranking youth in the Lio family. The eldest son had left to join the army and hadn't returned, so the legitimate inheritance of the family was likely to fall to Andrew.

"A minor noble... actually transmigrated..." Edward Scott rubbed his head, only now realizing he was lying on a small bed, his clothes changed into a white nightgown, covered by a thin white blanket.

It was a spacious, bright bedroom.

A bed, a white-painted writing desk, and two high-backed chairs, all white.

The window facing the bed was open, letting in faint sounds of bustle, as if from a street.

A gentle breeze carried the aroma of pancakes inside.

Edward Scott took a deep breath and immediately felt a pang of hunger.

"Is anyone there?" Edward Scott checked Andrew's memories and confirmed this was the family's residence in town.

Creak—the door opened.

A stern-looking, middle-aged man in red noble attire strode in, carrying a small silver bowl. The enticing aroma of meat wafted from the bowl.