The cart rattled along the dirt path until the towering walls of the city came into view.
Asiel's eyes widened. This… this wall… It rose high into the sky, so tall it seemed to pierce the clouds themselves. Taller, even, than the Great Wall of China he had once seen with his own eyes in his past life. Stone upon stone, perfectly fitted, a fortress of might that seemed impossible for human hands to build.
As the gates opened with a deep groan, he entered the city of Lagunica for the first time.
Bustling voices, the creak of wooden wheels, the neigh of horses—all mixed together in a symphony of life. The streets were paved with cobblestones, and the air carried the scent of bread baking, leather tanning, and fruits freshly picked.
Asiel helped Grandpa Harold unload the carriage, carrying baskets of fruits and vegetables into a small market shop. The old man spoke with the shopkeeper, exchanged goods, and pocketed a small pouch of coins. Then, turning back to Asiel, he held it out.
"Here, boy. Take some."
Asiel shook his head. "Grandpa, you already gave me a free ride here. I can't take any more from you. It's alright."
Harold smiled, his weathered face softening. "You shouldn't refuse a greeting from your grandpa, should you? You showed me respect, even helped me unload the carriage. And… you said you don't have money on you, right? Then take it."
He pressed fifty bronze coins into Asiel's palm.
"This is an offering. And if you ever have time, come visit our village—it's three days south from here."
Asiel tightened his grip on the coins, warmth filling his chest. "Thank you very much, Grandpa. I'll definitely visit once I settle down here."
"Good." Harold chuckled. "And if you want to settle here, go visit the church. They work as the administration system. For ten bronze coins, they'll register you as a citizen of Lagunica."
With that, they parted ways—Harold to his quiet farmer's life, and Asiel to the unknown.
Asiel walked slowly down the cobblestone streets, his eyes darting from one sight to another. Every house seemed as if it had been pulled straight from a medieval painting. Stone walls, brickwork, mud plaster, and wooden support beams formed charming little homes. Curtains fluttered from open windows, and children laughed as they chased each other between stalls.
The market was alive. Shops stacked with fruits, barrels of grain, shimmering cloth, and weapons glinting in the sunlight. Men with strong builds walked openly with swords strapped to their backs, some carrying massive longswords that looked heavy even for warriors. Others bore curved blades like katanas, while a few had strange staves with glowing gems atop them. Cloaked figures moved silently among the crowd, giving off an aura that made Asiel's instincts stir uneasily.
So weapons are allowed in public here…? he thought. This world… really is different.
He stopped briefly before a chemist's shop, shelves lined with glass bottles of colored liquids. Alchemy? Medicine? Or both…? The possibilities spun in his mind as he continued deeper into the city, asking passersby for directions.
Finally, he reached the heart of Lagunica.
His breath caught.
The church towered before him—majestic, massive, easily five stories high. Its stonework gleamed like polished ivory, and stained-glass windows painted scenes of angels and warriors in dazzling colors. At its center, a great bell hung in the tower, silent yet commanding respect. The enormous double doors, carved from dark wood, seemed older than the city itself.
"Wow…" Asiel whispered, awe filling his voice.
The church of Lagunica stood like a gateway—not just to faith, but perhaps, to his new life in this world.
With a heavy push, Asiel opened the great wooden doors of the church. They groaned as if protesting against the outside world.
The moment he stepped in, his breath caught.
The interior was far beyond what he had imagined. Towering stained-glass windows stretched toward the heavens, their colors a dance of blues, purples, and reds. The morning light pierced through them, scattering across the polished floor like fragments of divine fire. High above, the vaulted ceiling curved like the inside of a cathedral of stars, every arch filled with intricate patterns that glowed in shades of indigo and violet.
It was as though the heavens themselves had descended into this place.
At the very center, beneath the cascade of light, stood a man clad in flowing white robes embroidered with golden thread. His slim frame seemed unshaken by the vast emptiness around him, his presence commanding yet gentle.
Behind him loomed a golden statue—a man with four radiant wings, his expression serene yet overwhelming in its majesty. The light caught on the statue's gilded surface, making it seem almost alive, as if ready to take flight at any moment.
Asiel took a step closer and bowed deeply.
The man's voice carried across the chamber, smooth and calm.
"There is no need to bow before me, child. I am but a High Priest. The one you should bow before is the great Lord Angelic Veron—the savior of mankind, who delivered this world from calamity and restored its harmony twenty thousand years ago."
Asiel raised his head, his eyes steady.
"Then I should bow before you as well, for your faith, your knowledge, and your connection to the Almighty Lord are greater than mine. To me… bowing to you is no different from bowing to Him."
The priest's lips curved into a faint smile.
"You have an elegant tongue, young one. Tell me—what brings a kind child such as yourself here today?"
"I am here… to become a citizen of Lagunica."
"Oh?" Isendor tilted his head. "Does your village not have a church of its own?"
Asiel hesitated. "No, I actually—"
But before he could finish, the priest's eyes softened with sorrow.
"I understand. You must be one of the survivors… of the last war between the Lionheart Clan and the Archlenorm Clan. A village destroyed, a life lost in flames. That look in your eyes… you have brushed hands with death itself."
His words pierced deeper than Asiel expected. A part of him wanted to deny it, but another part realized the misunderstanding worked in his favor.
"Yes, sir… you've read me correctly. I lost everything."
The priest clasped his hands together, his voice resonating with compassion.
"Then worry not, my child. I shall help you in any way I can. You need not pay ten bronze coins—you have already paid enough in suffering."
Asiel's heart trembled at those words. …Free? Even when I have nothing?
"Come here," Isendor said gently. "Bow before our Almighty Lord, and join your hands in devotion."
Asiel stepped forward.
The priest raised his voice slightly, calling into the quiet hall:
"Sister Elara Wynne."
From the side of the cathedral, a young girl emerged. She wore soft white robes that flowed as she walked, her presence quiet but serene. In her hands she carried a silver plate upon which rested a glass filled with shimmering holy water and a small bronze plate.
Her voice was as soft as a bell when she spoke.
"High Priest, I have brought the offerings."
"Stand up, my child," the priest said gently.
Asiel rose slowly, opening his eyes—and the first thing he saw was Sister Elara, a girl about his age, her presence radiant like sunlight piercing through the church windows. For a moment, his gaze lingered, but unwilling to appear rude, he quickly turned back toward the priest.
The priest dipped his fingers into a bowl of shimmering holy water placed on a glass stand. With a solemn motion, he pressed one finger against a small rectangular bronze plate resting on the altar.
"My child, answer truthfully. What is your name?"
"Asiel," he replied.
"Your date of birth?"
Asiel hesitated—until his eyes darted toward a calendar carved into one of the marble pillars. "23rd February, 1007," he answered calmly, fabricating the date.
The priest's finger traced across the bronze, glowing faintly as letters carved themselves into the metal. Asiel's name and birthdate etched themselves cleanly with nothing but water.
His mind reeled. What kind of miracle is this? Just water... inscribing metal?
The priest handed him the plate. "With this, child, you are now registered as a citizen of Lagunica."
Asiel turned the bronze piece over in his hands, his name on one side, his date of birth on the other. A strange weight filled his chest. So this is my new beginning…
"Do you have any questions, child?"
Still shaking from the miracle he had witnessed, Asiel managed, "Yes, Sir Priest. I wish to learn more about the world's history… and this town. Where can I find such knowledge?"
The priest smiled warmly. "A rare wish for one so young. If knowledge you seek, then visit the town's library. Its doors are open to all. And remember—our church will always welcome you whenever you desire peace."
With gratitude, Asiel bowed deeply. "Thank you, Sir Priest."
As he stepped out of the grand church, the enormous bell above him tolled once, as though marking a new chapter of his fate.
The library, huh? He smirked. Guess I'll get my answers there. Ah… forgot to ask the directions again.
After asking a few kind townsfolk, he finally arrived before a wide, three-story building with carved pillars and tall windows—the Lagunica Library. Pushing open the heavy doors, he stepped into a world of parchment and silence.
Behind a counter sat a short young woman with thin-rimmed glasses and a green coat over a white blouse. She looked dreadfully bored until he approached.
"Hello, miss. Could you tell me where I can find books on world history… and this city's records?"
The woman blinked in surprise, studying him carefully. Few people his age asked for such things. "The books you seek are on the second floor, section C13," she answered crisply. "Oh, and I'll need your name for registration before you leave. Protocols, you see."
"It's Asiel," he replied.
She wrote it neatly in a large A4-sized register and closed it with a soft thump. "Welcome to the Lagunica Library, Asiel. I hope you find the knowledge you seek."
With a nod, Asiel climbed the stairs, his eyes tracing the architecture. The wooden beams and carved railings gave a sense of both grandeur and comfort. From the second-floor balcony, he could look down at the ground floor, where the silence of knowledge ruled.
He walked along the shelves. "C10… C11… C12… ah, C13." His hand brushed over the spines until he found it. The World History.
Carrying the tome to a corner table, he sat by the railing, opened the book, and began reading. The world's secrets, laid bare on parchment.
He devoured page after page, the candlelight illuminating ancient tales of kingdoms, wars, and strange powers. Until—
On the 54th page, his eyes froze.
"What… madness is this…?"
thank you for reading...