Chapter 1

"Thud" "Thud" "Thud"...

The continuous sound of chopping wood echoed from the Black Forest.

"Crack," the axe swung down again, and the hollowed-out tree trunk could no longer bear the weight of the branches, crashing to the ground with a loud thud.

The man beside the tree, axe in hand, swung it up and down, cutting off branches and collecting firewood, a task he had to perform every day.

As autumn approached, the entire duchy faced a growing shortage of supplies.

From the direct territories of the Elector Counts to the subordinate counties, baronies, and even the fiefs of lower-ranking knights, none could provide timely supplies to the soldiers stationed at the defensive outposts.

Especially this year in spring, the Northmen's longships sailed south, and large-scale invasions by raiders severely weakened the northern duchies.

A massive population was taken away, villages were burned to the ground, and the northern strength of the empire was greatly reduced. Ordinary people could not even afford a single day's sustenance, let alone weapons and armor.

The shortage of coal and firewood for heating was particularly noticeable.

Middenland, located in the northern part of the empire, had an average temperature ten degrees lower than the southern electorates, especially the outposts near the Drakwald Forest, where the weather was cold and damp day and night.

If one did not pay attention to keeping warm at night, the cold alone could render an adult male incapable of fighting, not to mention the dangerous creatures of Chaos lurking in the darkness.

"Phew," after finishing his work, Laren stood up straight, took a deep breath, and looked at the dense forest in the distance, his eyes squinting as usual. He stretched his back, and the brief relaxation invigorated his spirit.

The scene before him was different from the bustling cities he once knew. Nature grew freely, and the boundary between civilization and wilderness danced together.

This was the Old World, a world filled with despair and sorrow.

Laren, standing before him, was a part of the human empire of the Old World in body, but his soul and will came from a dimension beyond the Old World.

In simple terms, Laren's soul was a traveler from another world, possessing the body of an ordinary imperial soldier stationed at a defense outpost.

Strangely, all his past memories were intact, except for his name, which was lost in the past.

At first, Laren thought it was a deep sleep from which he could not wake up.

However, on the third day, during a night raid by Beastmen, he witnessed a Great Horned Beast tear apart a comrade beside him, the blood filling his nostrils. He fainted without warning.

No one could explain such a bizarre occurrence, and Laren had no chance to uncover the mystery of his own body. Anyone would be terrified by such a strange event, and Laren was no exception.

Fortunately, he often trained his mind and was a person with strong mental fortitude.

When he woke up after the battle, he lay on the hospital bed, the ward filled with a damp, moldy smell mixed with a pungent odor of urine.

Laren constantly pondered his life and what to do in the future.

He curled up in a corner of the ward, his back to the others at the outpost.

The other soldiers thought he was just overly sad, a common occurrence in the army.

In the Old World, the war against darkness was filled with despair. Every victory was just a temporary reprieve, waiting for the next life-or-death battle.

A week later, Laren gradually accepted reality. With the help of the original memories of the body he possessed, he understood his situation and location.

He was in Middenland, one of the twelve electorates of the human empire.

Home to the largest temple of the White Wolf God "Ulric" in the entire empire, Middenland stretched from the Reik River in the south and the Wissenland in the west to the Marienburg Free City in the east and Middenheim in the north.

The vast border rivaled that of the southern Talabecland.

Laren knew a lot about this land. The former emperor, Sigmar, once fought a divine battle on the summit of the White Wolf Mountain in Middenheim against the "Alpha Wolf" chieftain of the powerful Thuringians, a battle that determined the establishment of the great human empire.

After becoming the emperor, Sigmar made one of his most important decisions: to return the ruling rights of the twelve tribal territories to their chieftains, but required the electors to swear allegiance to the single human empire and provide aid when the empire was in trouble.

After that, the chieftain class disappeared, and the title of elector was inherited by the chieftain families.

Each territory operated like an independent duchy. Except in times of major crises or important meetings, the emperor would convene the Elector Council and the Imperial Parliament to call for the participation of the duchies in discussions or the recruitment of soldiers and the allocation of supplies.

In the year 2502 of the Imperial Calendar, the new emperor, Karl Franz, ascended the throne.

Laren also celebrated his 20th birthday in the same month, a warrior ceremony passed down from the Thuringians, symbolizing the emergence of a warrior worthy of the name "Ulric."

Although he was excited about being in the Old World, with countless epic battles and legendary heroes, and the fact that strength and power could make one a dominant force, reality was still cruel and suffocating.

Currently, Laren was just a minor imperial soldier stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of the Drakwald Forest, insignificant and often bullied due to his special appearance and weak personality in his past life.

After being possessed, Laren became silent and less easy to bully.

However, except for the kind Captain Hanni, who occasionally showed concern for his life and training, the others treated him like air, assigning him all the dirty and tiring tasks, such as chopping wood and feeding horses every day.

Laren did not mind. A person with great ambitions could endure temporary humiliation, and he was glad that others did not pay attention to him.

He carried three bundles of dry wood on his back and returned along the river that flowed through the forest.

The area for chopping wood was inside the forest, and within a hundred meters of the outpost, no trees were allowed to obstruct the view, both to prevent Beastmen and to ensure a clear line of sight for defense.

The river meandered toward the southwest, and the Central Mountains, located in the heart of the northern electorates, provided nearly 90% of the water for the rivers in Middenland, Hochland, Nordland, and Ostermark through the melting snow on their peaks.

Laren had only been transferred from a southern electorate to the northern garrison two months ago, missing the summer floods.

Now, the river's water level had dropped significantly, exposing many muddy areas on both banks.

The vast human empire was not short of land, but the amount of arable land where serfs and free farmers could cultivate and receive protection was very limited.

Due to the vast territory of the empire, millions of people were scattered across the vast expanse, forming villages and towns.

Similarly, every forest in the empire was home to countless Beastmen, and the mountain passes were filled with camps of Greenskins. In the southeastern corner of the empire, there was even the threat of the Midnight Nobles...

Laren had the most distinctive features of the Thuringians: a tall stature. A thousand years ago, Thuringian berserkers fought naked against Beastmen with only their physical strength, before the advent of iron weapons.

However, the body Laren possessed, though strong, was overly weak in character, and everyone at the outpost could bully him.

Unlike others, Laren had black hair and eyes that were not the common brown of Middenlanders.

Not only in appearance, but over time, Laren discovered a special ability within his body...

After resting for a moment, Laren looked ahead, and with a thought, a transparent panel appeared before his eyes. At the top of the panel, a pure white skull with a golden double-tailed comet embedded in its forehead was displayed.

【Host: Laren】

【Race: Human】

【Level: lv1】

【Equipment: None】

【Luck: 94/100】

A panel that Laren could summon at will, like most travelers, came with a "golden finger" to the other world, but after two months, nothing significant had happened.

Laren noticed a small line of text below the level:

【Experience: 487/500】

"At least I gained 3 points of experience, not a waste of effort," he sighed.

After a month of observation, Laren gradually understood the meaning of the values on the panel.

Experience was similar to points, and daily training in various skills, such as sword fighting and chopping, could increase experience. Experience was tied to level, and only by accumulating enough experience could one level up.

Before he could examine it further, a pale gray light appeared, and another panel popped up.

【Recruit Task: Reach level lv2 (1/2)】

Laren was about to look away, but this was the first time the system had responded. Staring at the new panel, he felt a bit dizzy.

Recruit task? So the system knew his current situation? A minor, insignificant soldier who could be sacrificed for the empire at any time!

In an instant, Laren felt the urge to curse the system. Why did he have to be a traveler? Even being a common knight in Bretonnia would have been better, with a fief and serfs to support him, living a carefree life. Maybe one day, if he was lucky, a goddess would take a liking to him, allowing him to drink a sip of her foot washing water and become a loyal knight...

Taking a deep breath, Laren patted his forehead to clear his mind, suppressing the feeling of "humiliation," and read the reward description carefully.

【Reward 1: Unlock personal attribute panel, host can use "skill points"】

【Reward 2: Increase luck by 3 points】

Skill points?

He had no idea what options the system would give for skill points, but it was a good thing. The second reward, increasing luck, was a bit confusing.

Since arriving, the biggest confusion was the luck value on the panel, with no description or daily reminders, making it quite mysterious.

He thought it might be a luck bonus, and in the Old World, the God of Luck was the most popular deity.

For a while, Laren would go to the forest to walk around, hoping to find a knight's sword or some coins, but he found nothing, only stepping on dried Beastmen feces.

The system's luck value increased by 1 point daily, and over time, Laren let it be, allowing it to change.

"Since I'm here, I might as well make the best of it. I'm about to level up, and with 3 more points of luck, I can reach 100. I wonder what good things I'll get." Laren cleared his mind and quickened his pace toward the outpost.

The forest in the afternoon was also dangerous, and to avoid others noticing, he deliberately went deeper into the forest to chop wood.

Laren wore a worn, wrinkled blue and white soldier's uniform, the color almost faded, and a dirty black felt hat on his head.

His boots, with severely cracked edges, were barely shoes, and walking in them was no different from being barefoot.

Though his clothes were "patchy" and full of patches like most imperial soldiers, Laren's uniform was always clean. Whenever he had time, he would wash his clothes in the river beside the outpost.

Hygiene was necessary; if he contracted a disease, Laren did not dare to rely on the "famous doctors" of the Old World.

For the lower-class poor, if they encountered a serious illness, they either waited to die or were sent to the Temple of the Goddess of Mercy, Saphenia, for healing by priests, but this was only available in large towns.

Due to the shortage of supplies, most soldiers' weapons and equipment had not been replaced or maintained for a long time. The most serious issue was the dwindling food supply in the outpost.

Laren had accidentally overheard a conversation between Captain Tock and a vanguard squire, where Captain Tock was worried about the food supply, though he was more concerned about the silver coins he would receive to enjoy in Brey.

The short sword hanging from his waist, a standard weapon for provincial soldiers or conscripts, was a minor weapon but a significant means of survival for countless imperial soldiers.

In the Old World, wars were frequent, and surviving against various monsters was no easy task.

Laren carried the wood eastward. Though not muscular, his young, strong body did not feel the weight of the heavy wood.

After a while, he emerged from the Drakwald Forest. The sun was about to set behind the western mountains, and the orange glow bathed his body.

The outer layer of the forest was flat, cultivated land, and the surrounding terrain was open, with vast expanses of black soil.

In another world, the fertile soil and easy irrigation along the river would have been enough to develop vast fields of fertile land, but in the Old World, it was only a beautiful dream.

At the end of the river, a small hill rose, and a 6-meter-high watchtower stood majestically within the outpost, which was semi-circular.

The outer perimeter of the outpost was about 70 meters, built with 2-meter-high wooden walls, with the northern wall, built along the river, reaching 3 meters.

A moat surrounded the outpost, with sharp wooden stakes at the bottom, and only the drawbridges on the east and west sides allowed entry.

If one was not careful, they would be impaled, making it easy to defend but hard to attack.

This was the defense outpost where Laren was stationed, one of the four outposts under the Barony of Dravencourt in the southwest of Middenland. There were 23 imperial soldiers stationed here, including 11 close-combat sword and shield soldiers and pikemen, 8 archers, and 4 vanguard squires. Laren was one of the close-combat sword and shield soldiers.

The northern part of Middenland was mostly the Drakwald Forest, and the threat of Beastmen and Greenskins forced the northern electors to build many outposts for defense.

Every 5 miles, there was an outpost, and in some critical areas, there were one or two hereditary baronial castles, with significantly increased defensive forces. A baronial castle could have over 100 soldiers, and the elector's garrison could reach up to 600.

The outpost occupied the entire hill, with a high vantage point.

Though located in a dangerous border area, the 50 meters of land around the outpost was still cultivated by the soldiers, growing vegetables like lettuce, carrots, and chickpeas, all enclosed by fences.

With a nearby water source, the fields around the outpost were easy to irrigate, but only within the 50-meter radius, as the outpost's alert range did not extend further, leaving much fertile land uncultivated.

Laren quickened his pace and soon reached the moat outside the outpost's walls.

The western side, facing the Drakwald Forest, had a wooden gate, about 4 meters high, with a shield depicting a standing white wolf and a castle, symbolizing Middenland, hanging in the center of the highest part of the gate. The soldiers entering and exiting the outpost relied on the drawbridge.

Laren avoided several hidden traps and walked to the moat, shouting up to the gatehouse, "Lower the drawbridge! I'm back!"

After calling three times, someone finally poked their head out of the gatehouse. Seeing it was Laren, the person grinned, "Hey, little coward, back from chopping wood! How come the Beastmen in the forest didn't skin you and eat you?"

Laren knew this person was "Nasty" Mace, who often followed Captain Tock, acting arrogantly and treating the captain with a smile, as if he wanted to stick to him 24/7.

However, he treated the other soldiers at the outpost differently, bullying the new recruits who had been there for only a few months. Laren, in this world, had been mocked by him many times, so he had no good feelings toward him.

Ignoring the taunt, Laren simply shouted, "Lower the drawbridge!"

Mace, feeling embarrassed, usually Laren would turn red and be unable to speak, which was quite amusing. Recently, it seemed like a different person. Just as he was about to say more, he caught a glimpse of the veteran guard Abbot, who he did not get along with, walking over from the other side of the wall with a stern face.

Mace's mouth twitched, and he coldly snorted, "What's the rush? You're only fit to feed the horses!"

He cursed as he turned the rope to lower the drawbridge and shouted into the outpost, "The coward is back, everyone come and welcome him!"

Soon, the outpost was filled with noise, and four ragged guards gathered behind the gate. One of them called out, "This Laren kid doesn't listen to the veterans, looks like he can handle anything now!"

"Is that him? The one who faints before even getting to the battlefield? Hahaha..." Mace slowly walked down the gatehouse, mocking.

The others joined in, laughing at Laren's figure outside the gate.

Laren, carrying the wood, stepped on the creaking drawbridge, his face dark, and walked forward on his own.

...

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