Wizard of another World

"Damn hedgehog, greed is the original sin. Even servants of gods are banished from divine realms after death if consumed by it."

Exiting the church, Carl muttered angrily under his breath. Spotting someone approaching, he quickly lowered his gaze and softly murmured,

"Merciful Morning Lord..."

The Morning Lord was kind to his devotees, so Father Vick had granted Carl some time to prove his "piety."

Thirty gold coins!

It was no small amount.

The Bergman family lacked financial acumen.

Instead, they excelled at squandering wealth.

His grandfather, despite being a baron, sold off their lands to maintain his luxurious lifestyle.

Carl's father, after relocating to Signo City, failed to leave behind any real estate and spent years renting in a modest district.

Carl himself had drained nearly all their savings just to secure the position of a city inspector—a respectable job.

"Ugh..."

Carl sighed, deciding against taking a carriage, and instead walked to the bustling Rue de Rouen.

This was the city's largest champagne market and the biggest trading hub across several marquessates.

September, the Month of Abundance.

During this period, even serfs occasionally found themselves with extra money. The market buzzed with life.

Where there were crowds, cleanliness was scarce.

The streets were muddy, littered with debris, and filled with mixed odors and loud hawking:

"Fresh seafood from Puglia Bay—variety of fish!"

"Flower cakes with cheese-topped soft bread, only six pence per serving! Kids love it!"

"Fresh vegetables and fruits—cheap and fresh!"

"Bordeaux wine, a noble banquet essential. Just one sip and you'll never forget it!"

Carl carefully navigated through the throng, his gaze sweeping warily across the surroundings, clutching his pocket tightly.

This place was a haven for pickpockets, especially individuals like Carl—well-dressed and unguarded.

Only when he reached a familiar shop did his vigilance ease.

"Udil, is your father around?"

"He's gone to restock," replied a boy of about fifteen or sixteen, his dark complexion tinged with shyness.

"One bucket of milk, please," Carl gestured. After some thought, he added,

"The cheapest kind."

"Huh?"

Udil froze, then hesitantly said,

"Mr. Carl, this milk isn't fit for drinking... though, of course, some might still drink it."

During hard times, even dirty water could suffice. Inferior milk was no exception.

"I know," Carl chuckled.

"Also, give me ten pounds of salted meat strips—the cheapest ones as well."

"This... sure." Udil shrugged.

"That'll be two crowns and three pence."

In the kingdom's currency system:

One crown equals 12 pence.One pound equals 10 crowns.Above the pound were gold coins (pure gold), which carried significant value beyond mere currency.

Carl earned roughly 20 pounds per month as a city inspector—equivalent to two gold coins.

But he had expenses.

The old Carl never saved money, spending his entire income while relying on his father's occasional support. Currently, Carl's total savings barely surpassed one gold coin, making 30 gold coins a monumental sum.

After grabbing a quick bite on the street, Carl returned home to find Mrs. Mary out for work at the bakery. Jenny was practicing her singing.

Her voice was uniquely clear, akin to a lark's melody—a rare talent.

Mrs. Mary had high hopes for Jenny, urging her to practice for an audition with the Barrow Choir, a gateway to a brighter future.

For commoners in this era, education was nonexistent, and singing could transcend class barriers.

Carl paused to listen, letting the music soothe his frustrations before quietly retreating to his room.

"Thirty gold coins..."

Placing the milk and meat aside, he removed a sword from the wall.

A knight's broadsword—dual-wieldable, its wide blade gleaming menacingly. Weighing nearly three kilograms, it was no mere decoration.

"Haah!"

With a low grunt, Carl swung the sword, halting it precisely a foot above the floor.

This simple vertical slash showcased solid fundamentals.

The Bergman family had risen through military merit, passing down the fierce Wind Swordsmanship—a knight-tier technique.

But...

Without a written manual for the accompanying breath technique to awaken a "life seed" and enhance physical prowess, Carl had only ever remained an ordinary swordsman.

Switching to padded training gear, Carl practiced until sweat beaded his brow. Staring at the blade, he muttered darkly,

"Push me far enough, and I'll do whatever it takes."

Even so, robbing carriages seemed beyond him. Instead, he had another plan—

Dimensional travel.

With a soft flash of light, Carl opened his eyes and found himself in an extraordinary realm.

Endless stars surrounded him, while beneath him lay a stone seat carved with ancient, mystical patterns.

Still clutching the sword, milk, and salted meat, he stood in awe of the drastic transformation.

It felt as though he'd stepped into the domain of the gods.

More astonishingly, the moment he arrived, his emotions—fear, anxiety, and excitement—were subdued, replaced by absolute clarity and control.

Carl gazed down at his body, flexed his grip on the broadsword, and swung it once more.

This time, the same vertical strike achieved perfect balance, speed, and power—approaching the level of a knight's squire.

"So, this place... enhances both mind and body?"

Carl pondered as he ventured deeper into the mysterious domain.

Here, he wasn't just a mere man—

He felt like a god.

In one bold step, Carl shifted to a completely new scene, confirming his suspicion:

He could traverse worlds.

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