Back in the keep, the castle was located to the south of the border town, he dismissed the anxious Minister Barov outside the door to his chambers, allowing him to finally breathe a sigh of relief now that he was alone.
As a person who’d spent ninety percent of his time dealing with people through a computer, facing everyone like he just had already surpassed his comfort zone. Cheng Yan found the location of his bedroom from his new memories, took a seat on his bed, and got a moment of real rest as he tried to suppress his violently beating heart. At the moment, the most important matter was to clarify the situation. Why was the prince, who couldn’t stay in Wimbledon City, the capital of the kingdom, sent to this barren land?
The unexpected answer he came up with left him stupefied.
Roland Wimbledon was actually sent here to fight for the right to succeed the king.
Everything had originated from King Wimbledon III of Graycastle’s wonderful proclamation to his children saying, “You want to inherit the kingdom? The first-born prince doesn’t necessarily have the right to become king, only the person who proves themselves as the most capable of governing can inherit the country.” He placed various territories under the rule of his five children, and after five years he’d decide who would become his successor based on the level of skill they displayed in governing their respective territories.
While turning the decision of who should inherit the throne into a meritocracy and providing equal opportunity regardless of gender might sound like very enlightened concepts, the real problem was with the actual implementation of said ideas. Would there be any guarantee that all five of them received the same starting conditions? This wasn’t like playing a real-time strategy game. To his knowledge, the second son had been given a better territory than this border town. Actually when he thought about it, it seemed that among the five regions they’d been given, none of the others were worse than his frontier town. His starting point was simply inferior.
Also, Cheng Yan wondered, how was one to assess the level of governance? By the population? Military power? Economic standing? Wimbledon III hadn’t mentioned any standard, nor did he put the slightest restrictions on their methods of competition. In case someone secretly assassinated the other candidates, what would he do? Would the queen stand by and watch her children kill each other? Wait. …… He carefully recalled the next memory, all right, another piece of bad news; the Queen had died five years ago.
Cheng Yan sighed. Obviously, this was a barbaric and dark feudal era he had found himself in. Just the way they seemed to wantonly kill witches was enough to give him a few hints. Also, Cheng Yan thought, why would he want to become king? With no Internet and none of the comforts of modern civilization, he’d have to live the same life as the native people. Burning witches for fun, living in a city where everyone dumped their excrement wherever they wished, and finally dying from the Black Death.
Cheng Yan being a prince could already be considered a very high starting point. Even if he didn’t become king he was still of royal blood and had already been knighted. As long as he managed to stay alive he would be considered as one of the Lords of the Realm.
Cheng Yan suppressed his wandering thoughts and went to his bedroom mirror. The man looking back at him in the mirror had light gray hair, which was the royal family’s most distinctive feature. His face was slightly pale and with his regular facial features, he seemed to be completely without personality traits. He appeared to be lacking in physical exercise and as for wine and woman, he recalled indulging in both with some regularity. He had had several lovers in the King’s City, but all had been willing participants, he hadn’t forced anyone.
As for the cause of his own crossing over… Cheng Yan guessed that thanks to the company’s inhuman urging to progress forward, his boss had arranged for him to work overtime, which in turn actually led to the tragedy that was his sudden death. The victims of cases like these were usually coders, mechanical engineers, and programmers.
In the end, no matter what, at least I got the equivalent of an extra life. I really shouldn’t complain too much, in the coming days, I might be able to slowly improve this life, but my first task is to play a convincing 4th Prince, so that other people don’t find something amiss with my behavior and think I’m possessed by the devil, leading to my being burned at the stake, Cheng Yan thought to himself.
“So, in order to live well…” Cheng Yan took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, and whispered, “from now on, I’m Roland.”
Chapter 2 The Witch Named Anna (Part I)
For a period of time Roland locked himself in his room as he carefully reviewed the memories of this new world, such that dinner had to be sent directly to him by his servants.
Roland suppressed his fear of the unfamiliar environment he found himself in under his strong will to live. He was very clear that if he wanted to blend in and avoid being suspected by the people around him he needed to get more information as soon as possible.
Roland had to say that the fourth prince had, apart from fooling around with some other sons of the nobility, no additional things in his brain. Over and over again, Roland was unable to remember any valuable information such as knowledge of the aristocracy, the political situation in his own country, or the diplomatic situation with his neighbors. As for basic common sense, such as city names, or the years of significant events, they were completely different than the history of Europe he knew.
It seemed that based on his memories, the old Roland had had absolutely no chance of obtaining the throne. Perhaps the King of Graycastle was aware of this, and because of that, the prince had been thrown into this hellish place, even if he made a mess of things in this border town, it wouldn’t result in much damage to the kingdom.
The next memories Roland looked at were of his brothers and sisters, and what he found left him unsure whether he should laugh or cry.
Roland’s eldest brother, the First Prince, had an above average military power, his second brother was scheming and horridly treacherous, his third sister was afraid of death, and his younger sister was brilliant. This was the entirety of the former fourth prince’s impressions of his siblings. Roland felt a little awkward, after more than a decade of living with them the old Roland’s knowledge had been summed up in a few words. What forces they’d developed, who their competent subordinates were, what they were experts at, what their plans were and so on…he knew nothing at all.
It was only three months ago that the fourth prince had come to this frontier town, but the nobility had already stopped hiding their contempt for him. It was obvious that the fourth prince wasn’t cut out to be a leader. Fortunately, when the King had left Roland this territory, he had sent along two of his more capable subordinates to provide assistance so the townspeople wouldn’t suffer under the old Roland’s inept rule.
After Roland woke up the next morning one of his maids, Tyre, repeatedly mentioned that the Assistant Minister wanted to see him. When it seemed that he could put it off no longer Roland acted according to his past memories and reached out to cup the maid’s ass before sending her to fetch Barov, who had been waiting in the drawing room.
Seeing the flushing Tyre exit the room, Roland suddenly realized that, since he had reincarnated, shouldn’t he have a system or something like that? At least in many tales that was the standard formula, but the arrival of a system never happened.
Sure enough, what Roland had read in those novels was all fiction.