Cheng Yan felt someone calling him.
"Your Highness, wake up..."
He turned his head, but the voice did not disappear. Instead, it grew louder. He felt someone reach out and gently tug at his sleeve.
"Your Highness, Your Highness!"
Cheng Yan opened his eyes abruptly. The familiar screen was gone, the office desk was gone, and the walls that were plastered with paper slips were also gone. In their place was a strange scene — a low brick building, a circular square that was crowded with people, and a gallows that was erected in the middle of the square. He sat on the high platform opposite the square. Instead of a soft swivel chair, he sat on a cold, hard iron chair. There was a circle of people sitting around him, staring at him. Among them, a few women dressed like medieval ladies were covering their mouths and laughing.
What the hell is this place? Shouldn't I be working on the blueprint? Cheng Yan's mind was blank. Three consecutive days of overtime had pushed his body and mind to the limit. He could only remember that he could not take it anymore. His heart was racing, and he wanted to rest on the desk for a while...
"Your Highness, please announce the verdict."
The person who spoke was the guy who was tugging at his sleeve. He looked old, about 50 or 60 years old, and he wore a white robe. At first glance, he looked like Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings.
Am I dreaming? Cheng Yan licked his dry lips. Verdict? What verdict?
But he soon found out. The people in the square were all looking in the direction of the gallows, waving their fists and shouting. Occasionally, one or two stones would be thrown towards the gallows.
Cheng Yan had only seen such an ancient torture device in the movies — the two sides of the gallows were about four meters tall, and the top of the pillars was supported by a wooden beam. In the middle of the beam was a rusty iron ring, and a yellowish hemp rope was threaded through the iron ring. One end was fixed under the gallows, and the other end was looped around the prisoner's neck.
In this strange dream, he found that his eyesight had become surprisingly good. Usually, without glasses, he would not be able to see the words on the screen, but now, he could see every detail on the scaffold that was 50 meters away.
The prisoner was wearing a hood, and her hands were tied behind her back. Her coarse gray shirt was as dirty as a rag. She was thin, and her ankles looked like they could be broken with a pinch. Her chest was slightly bulging, and it seemed that she was a woman. She shivered in the wind, but still managed to stand straight.
Alright, what crime did this fellow commit that caused so many people to wait for her to be hanged with righteous indignation?
Just as he thought of this, Cheng Yan's memory seemed to have been connected, and the answer appeared before his eyes almost at the same time.
She was a "witch".
She was tempted by the devil and fell into depravity, the embodiment of impurity.
"Your Highness?" Gandalf urged cautiously.
He glanced at the other party. Well, it turns out that his name is not Gandalf. Barov is his real name. He is the assistant of the Minister of Finance. He was sent to deal with government affairs for me.
As for himself, he was the fourth prince of Graycastle Kingdom, Roland. He was here to guard this place. When the residents of Border Town caught a witch, they would immediately send her to the police station – no, to the court of justice. The warrant for the execution of a witch was generally issued by the local Lord or the Bishop. Since he was in power here, issuing the warrant was also part of his duty.
His memory presented the questions that he most needed answers to. He did not need to filter them or read them. It was as if he had experienced it himself. Cheng Yan was confused for a moment. No dream could be so detailed. So, was this not a dream? Did he travel to the dark ages of the Middle Ages in Europe and become Roland? From a drawing dog who worked overnight to become the fourth prince?
Although this territory of the kingdom seemed so barren and backward, he had never seen the name Graycastle Kingdom in history books.
So, what should he do next?
How such an unscientific thing like time travel actually happened could be researched later, but the farce in front of him had to stop. It was normal for an uncivilized civilization to blame disasters and misfortunes on some poor souls, but to hang them to satisfy the dark psychology of the onlookers, this kind of stupidity was unacceptable to Luo Yan.
He grabbed the warrant that Barov was holding and threw it to the ground. He stretched and said, "I'm sleepy. I'll pass the sentence another day. Today, everyone is dismissed!"
Cheng Yan was not acting recklessly. He was carefully recalling the way the prince behaved in his memory and reproducing the style of a spoiled brat. Yes, Prince Roland was such a jerk. He had a bad character and did whatever he wanted. Then again, how could an unruly prince in his early twenties be so well-mannered?
The other nobles sitting on the platform did not seem surprised. Instead, a tall man in armor stood up and said, "Your Highness, this is not a joke! Once a witch's identity is confirmed, she should be executed immediately. What if other witches come to kidnap her? The church will not sit back and do nothing if they find out. "
Carter Lannis, this decent looking man, was actually his Chief Knight. Cheng Yan frowned and said, "Why, are you afraid?" The naked mockery in his words was not entirely an act. A strong man whose arms were thicker than the other party's body was actually worried about being rescued by the other party. Did he really think that the witch was the devil's advocate? "Wouldn't it be better to have a few more of them?"
Seeing that he did not say anything, Cheng Yan waved his hand and asked the guards to take him away. Carter hesitated for a moment, but he still followed the group and walked beside Prince Roland. The other nobles stood up and bowed to show their respect, but Cheng Yan could see the undisguised contempt in their eyes from the corner of his eyes.
When he returned to the palace, which was located in the castle south of Border Town, he ordered the guards to stop the anxious assistant minister outside the hall. Only then did he feel a little relieved.
As a person who spent 90% of his time dealing with computers, it was already an extraordinary performance to be able to put on such a show in front of so many people. Cheng Yan found his bedroom according to his memory, sat on the bed and rested for a while before he suppressed his violent heartbeat. The most important thing now was to figure out the situation. As a prince, why did he come to this desolate land instead of staying in King's City?
It would have been better if he did not think about it, but as soon as the idea came to him, he was shocked by the answer.
Roland Wimbledon actually came to fight for the throne.
The origin of everything came from the strange decree of the King of Graycastle, Wimbledon III: If one wanted to inherit the kingdom, it was not the prince who was born first who had the highest right, but the one who was most capable of governing the country. He sent his five adult children to various territories under his rule, and after five years, he would decide who would be the crown prince based on the level of governance.
The one who was capable would be the one to rule, and the equality of men and women sounded very advanced, but the problem was that the actual implementation was completely different. Who could guarantee that all five people would have the same starting conditions? This was not a real-time strategy game. As far as he knew, the second prince's territory was much better than Border Town's. Well, in that case, among the five people, there seemed to be no place worse than Border Town, which was simply a bad start.
In addition, how to evaluate the level of governance? Population? Military? Economy? Wimbledon III did not mention any standards, nor did he put the slightest restrictions on the competition. What if someone secretly tried to assassinate him? What would happen then? Was the Queen going to watch her sons kill each other? Wait … He carefully thought about it. Well, another bad news, the Queen had passed away five years ago.
Cheng Yan sighed. Obviously, this was a barbaric and dark feudal era, which could be seen from the wanton hunting of witches. Dressing up as a prince was already a very high starting point. Besides, even if he did not get the throne, he still had the blood of the King of Graycastle. As long as he could survive, he would be granted a title and be considered a lord.
And … what could he do if he became the king? Without the Internet, without the nourishment of modern civilization, he would also be like these natives, burning witches for fun, living in a city where feces were casually dumped, and finally dying from the ravaging Black Death?
Cheng Yan suppressed his chaotic thoughts and walked to the full-length mirror in the bedroom. The person in the mirror had light gray curly hair, which was the most distinctive feature of the royal family of Graycastle. His facial features were good, but his face was not proper, and he looked like he had no temperament. His face was slightly pale, indicating that he lacked exercise. As for whether he was addicted to wine and women, he recalled that he seemed to be fine. He had a few lovers in King's City, all of whom were voluntary, and he had never forced anyone.
As for the reason for his time travel, Cheng Yan could roughly guess — it should be that the client inhumanely urged the progress, and the boss arranged for him to work overnight, which led to a sudden death. The protagonists of this kind of case were most likely code farmers, mechanical dogs, or engineering lions.
No matter what, at least this was equivalent to an extra life, and he really should not complain too much. In the future, he might be able to slowly change this life, but at present, the most important task was to play the role of Prince Roland, and not let others find out that he was possessed by the devil and directly tied to the stake.
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