At midnight, while everyone in the rundown village slept, lights still shone from the lord's castle in the center. Mrs. Erin anxiously paced beside a patient's bed, mumbling to herself. Suddenly, a movement from the patient alerted her.
"Ra... Erin?" Her son was waking up.
"Where... where am I? Ah, why does my head hurt so much?" Ra hugged his head and cried out as if he had a splitting headache. It felt as if a hot iron had been suddenly inserted into his head, and memories of his current life flashed before him.
Yes, he wasn't from this world. In his previous life, he was a normal, lazy student who liked to play games—nothing special. One day, he collapsed, and now he had woken up with a severe headache and the memories of this new body. In this life, he was the son of a lord, Kris Erin, who had inherited a rundown village near the border. This village was connected to a large grove and redwood forest.
During a nearby lords' gathering, as they were returning, rampant bandits ambushed them. His father and one of his attendants sacrificed themselves to protect him and his mother, allowing them to safely return to their castle.
As Ra tried to clear his head, his mother's voice suddenly sounded in his ear. "Ra, Ra, are you okay? Say something! How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?" His mother was gently shaking him, fearing he might faint again.
"Mother, I'm okay. My head just hurts a little, but it's fine now. Where is Mr. Smith? How is he? What happened to me? How is Father, and where is he?"
Hearing him ask about his father, Mrs. Erin replied sadly, "He's dead. He was stabbed with a fork at his neck joint—a place where a knight's armor can't cover it." The bandits took his body and killed his horse and attendant. "Thirteen of our twenty guards are dead. Three are severely injured and unable to fight again, and two are lightly wounded. The rest are okay."
Hearing the current situation from his mother, Ra became worried again. In his past life, he wasn't overly bright. He had thought that in this life, he could live like a nobleman. Even if he was a small knight, it was still a noble life. There was a greater difference between a lord and a commoner than between a person and a dog. But given his current situation, he might not even survive a month. He had to do something to survive, or he might die at the hands of bandits.