Starting with the goblin extermination

Logan walked through the moonlit wheat fields, while villagers stumbled and ran alongside him.

Logan wasn't surprised that the world in his dream lacked a sense of distance. It was a scene from the past, the familiar fields appearing so vast until he finally found the person he was looking for—

Father.

He stood on the blood-soaked grass, with the dead white-clad warriors piled up like small mountains before him.

"Run south!" The father's face flickered in the firelight. "To the White Eagle Kingdom, as long as you're alive..."

Roar!

The enormous roar shook our eardrums.

Logan looked up, covered his ears with his hands, and a huge white shadow flew over his head—

A giant dragon.

The wind surged like a giant wave, blowing Logan about, and the arms of the corpses on the ground trembled slightly. The terrified screams of the crowd reached the sky.

A waterfall of frozen white light engulfed everyone.

Before people could scream, they heard the sound of their bodies freezing, the rough ice blocks like pebbles scattered on the ground.

His father shielded him with his body, and a tremendous force pushed him forward—

"run!!"

He started running forward...

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Arando 3563, Riverwood, Temple of Soma.

Logan took a deep breath and woke up from his dream, his head still buzzing.

He remembered yesterday's battle, and he also remembered the nightmare he had just experienced. It was something he had witnessed firsthand before his transmigration.

He coughed and shifted his muscles. His body felt heavy, as if it didn't belong to him; every muscle was protesting, especially his right shoulder, which itched like hundreds of ants were crawling on it.

He's still alive. This isn't North Nordland.

The mind was now calm, with two completely different yet strangely merged memories lying inside.

A chapter belonging to Logan. The sixteen years he spent living in the Kingdom of North Nordland, running through the villages and fields, the clanging of the blacksmith's hammer, and his father's warm embrace are all vivid in his memory.

Another chapter also belongs to Logan. His thirty-odd years living in modern society. Skyscrapers, extravagant lifestyles, and his lonely home—all are unforgettable.

Who am I?

The thought had barely formed when lines of semi-transparent text suddenly appeared before his eyes, interrupting his thoughts.

......

Name: Logan

【property】:

Strength: 5 (Muscle strength and physical strength)

Agility: 5 (Reaction time and physical dexterity)

Constitution: 5 (Endurance, Vitality and Resistance)

Intelligence: 6 (Memory and thinking abilities)

Perception: 5 (Intuition and Sensation)

Charisma: 6 (Charisma and Influence)

【Skill】

Thrust LV1 (94/100)

This thing was indeed still there. During his escape south across the border, his memories of his past life awakened, bringing with them this cheat code.

A simple proficiency system.

When the system appeared, Logan's first reaction was to turn back, but this naive idea was quickly dismissed.

He needs to be realistic; even with a cheat code, he's still too weak right now.

He knew nothing about his enemies or whether his father was alive or dead. In any case, in this world of swords and magic, he had to become strong before he could have a chance to talk about revenge and the truth.

So he continued south, fleeing until he reached this place—

Logan opened his eyes and was greeted by a huge stone dome with a silver balance scale suspended in the center.

This is the symbol of Soma, the goddess of order.

"You're finally awake."

A cold voice came from the corner.

Logan turned his head. The scent of laurel mingled with white smoke wafted from the corner, and a young girl stood quietly by the brazier, carrying a bucket of water.

She wore a white robe with gold trim and carried tiny silver scales, walking slowly along the golden light on the distant horizon.

"If you're awake, don't take up the bed." The priestess put down the bucket, picked up a rag, and wrung out the water. "You're very lucky to have run into a paladin."

She looked to be about Logan's age, but spoke in a cold tone.

"If someone else had found you, you would already be feeding the fish."

Logan opened his mouth, his throat dry as if he had swallowed a handful of sand: "...Thank you."

The priestess turned her head away, ignoring Logan's thanks, and pointed to the bedside table.

"These are your things."

After saying that, the priestess didn't look at him again and turned to wipe the jars on the shelf next to her.

Seeing this, Logan said nothing more. He remembered the life-saving grace from the Temple of Soma.

Logan got up and started packing his belongings.

The items were pitifully few: the longsword his father had left him was still there, and in good condition; a leather armor that had been washed but was still tattered from the fall; and a damp money pouch containing three silver coins.

He quickly dressed himself. A large tear in his leather armor had been roughly stitched up.

Logan glanced at the priestess beside him, who was still focused on cleaning the cabinet. Although she spoke coldly, she had done something extra, and Logan took note of it.

Stepping out of the house and through the temple's bright hall, a few scattered worshippers were kneeling before the statue of the goddess of order, praying softly.

Logan didn't linger and walked out of the temple.

Sunlight streamed down from the high heavens, its slanted beams piercing the shadows of the courtyard and reaching the stone pillars at the entrance.

Logan blinked and walked along the marble floor, the town of Riverwood unfolding before him.

The air was thick with the smells of horse manure, pine wood, and grease, filled with the cries of vendors and the clanging of metal. Everywhere you looked, you could see adventurers carrying weapons and with various expressions walking the streets. They weren't all human; there were tall orcs with green skin and sturdy dwarves with brown skin.

This is Riverwood.

An important town on the northern border of the White Eagle Kingdom, it is adjacent to the provincial capital Wolf Howl City to the west and faces the Kingdom of North Nordland across the distance.

This place is situated in a low-lying basin where rivers converge, making it easily accessible by both land and water, and attracting a constant stream of merchant caravans. However, as one of the important towns in Bailang Province, the fundamental reason for its prosperity lies in—

Ash Forest.

The low-level labyrinth [Tallinn Ruins] deep in the forest is full of magic, which has not only given birth to countless monsters, but also nurtured countless precious materials, attracting wave after wave of adventurers to chase wealth, and of course, also attracting wave after wave of speculators to make money off the adventurers.

goo—

Logan's stomach interrupted his observation. He was hungry; after all, he hadn't eaten all day.

A strong, oily aroma wafted into my nostrils.

On the street corner, a burly vendor stood in front of a griddle, using a spatula to flip the sizzling meat patties.

The murky mutton fat, combined with the aroma of charred scallions, might be a bit pungent on ordinary days, but for Logan right now, it was just right.

In any case, we need to fill our stomachs first.

"Give me one."

The vendor didn't even look up, skillfully scooping up a meat pie and putting it into a paper bag.

"10 copper coins."

Logan didn't think much of it and took out a silver coin to hand over.

It was a silver wolf coin from the Kingdom of North Nordland, with a howling winter wolf printed on the front. In the past, one of these coins would have been enough to buy ten of these meat pies.

The vendor took it, but then stopped.

Instead of handing over the meat pie, he squinted and examined the silver coin repeatedly in the sunlight before taking a bite.

"This guy is no good."

He threw the silver coin back onto the wooden platform like trash, making a crisp sound.

"It's silver," Logan frowned. He had acted too quickly, not considering that this was a foreign country, but logically speaking, no matter where it was, even if it had been damaged, the silver coin should still be usable. "The purity is fine."

"The quality is definitely fine, but," the vendor poured the meat patties back onto the griddle, looked up, raised an eyebrow at Logan, "kid, you just crawled out of the mountains in the north, didn't you? North Nordland is finished. The old king's head was hung on the city wall last week, and now it's split into dozens of city-states, complete chaos."

Logan's fingers froze in mid-air.

The country has fallen?

As he fled, the country where he had lived for sixteen years became history.

This means that all the documents he had kept for the past sixteen years have become worthless paper and scrap metal, and his three remaining silver coins are likely to become useless as well.

"Nobody dares to accept Wolf Coins now," the vendor waved his hand impatiently. "Who knows if they'll be ordered to melt them down tomorrow? If you want to eat, go exchange them for White Eagle Coins and come back later."

"Where can I change it?"

Adventurers' Guild.

The vendor pointed to the fortress-like building at the end of the street:

"There are money changers over there who specialize in making money this way, but don't expect the exchange rates to be great. Next!"