While his consciousness was still a little hazy, a crisp birdsong made him slowly open his eyes, but because of the dazzling sunlight, the boy immediately closed his eyes in disgust.

"What ...... to do"

After complaining unconsciously, as if thinking of something, he was suddenly startled and opened his eyes violently again. He looked at the unfamiliar scene in front of him, and was almost speechless in astonishment, so he got up suddenly, but because his lower body could move freely, he fell out of bed in fright.

He opened his mouth wide in astonishment, rubbed his head, and slowly leaned back against the wall, speechlessly looking at where he was. A small, simple wooden house, except for a dirty bed covered with white sheets, only a row of small bookshelves, a round table, and two chairs. The windows were wide open, and the torn tulle curtains floated leisurely.

But before he had time to think, there was a sharp pain in his mind, he covered his temples in pain and lowered his head, but the pain did not abate, and the memory fragments flashed in front of him as quickly as a marquee. This pain that he had never experienced before couldn't help but make him scream.

After about ten minutes, the swelling pain slowly dissipated like the ebb tide of the sea, and he slowly raised his head with a rough pant, his eyes still had a look of fright, his face was covered with sweat, and his back was also wet.

Unhurried footsteps came, and the door to the room was slammed open, and a tall figure appeared in front of him.

"What the hell are you called, when you wake up, hurry up and work for me...... Well? Are you drenched in the rain? Why is your face full of water? ”

“……”

What appeared in front of him was an old man in a black robe, he was skinny, with a hooked nose, and his eyes were sunken, but he was shining, and he was touching his beard and looking at him with a hint of doubt.

Gurba. The name came to mind. He had recently become a handyman for the old man's family when he was looking for a job. This seems to be a highly respected alchemist, and he originally applied with the idea that he might be able to learn some alchemy from him.

But who knows, this is a strange old man with a short temper and a strange personality. Not to mention stealing teachers, even the talkers are reluctant to say a word to themselves.

Depending on the situation, it seems that he has traveled to a magical world. If that's the case, he needs time to understand and adapt to the current situation. But the top priority is not to let this old man see any clues.

Keeping his frightened expression, he looked at Gurba blankly, and stammered, "Gu, Mr. Gurba, there are ghosts, ghosts...... A large group of ...... Ran after me, tried to rip off my clothes, and almost finished. ”

Gulba listened, snorted disdainfully, and cast a disdainful look.

"Don't be long-winded, hurry up and get to work! It's really a useless fellow, you can be scared of this virtue by having nightmares......" After dropping these words, the old man waved his hand impatiently and slammed the door.

He let out a long sigh of relief, and he had escaped. Leaning against the wall, he looked at the ceiling in a daze, when suddenly a birdsong came from the window. He turned his head to see a small, chubby sparrow with bright fur falling by the window, tilting its head and staring at him curiously.

Perhaps it was a sense of immediacy, and he felt that this sparrow had been seen somewhere. He unconsciously smiled a somewhat tired smile at the sparrow, which stared at him silently for a moment, then turned his head and flew out of the window without hesitation.

He got up and walked to the window, trying to find the sparrow, but saw a strange sight.

Outside the window is a vast green prairie, the clear blue sky extends infinitely with the vision, and at the end of it is a continuous series of green peaks. And looking down, the large and gorgeous town is there, like a giant dragon lying around the mountain, alive.

This is the Ironclad City, the city ruled by the Count of Verus. A vibrant place. It is the place where the dreams of the brave, the adventurer, the alchemist, and countless young people begin. That's why it's also known as the "City of Dreams".

"Finally, I don't have to rely on books to see the world anymore......"

His heart was beating faster, he took a deep breath, the smell of earth and flowers moistened his heart and lungs, and a smile unconsciously spread on his face, and he laughed out the window, laughing heartily with tears.

"In this life, I will set sail with my dreams from today! My dream ...... My dream is, of course, the sea of stars! ”

The spring breeze is pleasant and the scenery is pleasant. The sky, which is almost piercing, is transparent, with a faint blue on the stretched edges. In the corner of the plateau, a three-story tin wooden house was blown and hunted, and the faded flags on the roof seemed to wave their hands pitifully.

Ransell, trembling his arms and gritting his teeth, carried a large wooden barrel full of greasy sewage, and staggered out of the hut in three steps, finally pouring the sewage into a swarthy well. Regardless of whether his hands were dirty or not, Aransell let out a long breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead with satisfaction.

A gust of wind blew, and Alansel couldn't help but smile, looking at the mountain in the distance and the magnificent ironclad city below, the physical exhaustion seemed to be blown away with the wind.

"Little bastard! Don't be lazy with me! Hurry up and get to work! ”

"Yes, yes! Mr. Gurba, I'm going! ”

Aransell got out of bed before 6 a.m. and worked until 5 or 6 p.m. This life has been going on for a week for Aransale, and his face has noticeably lost weight from its round appearance, and the contours of his jaw have become much more defined.

Alransell was tired, but he didn't hate it at all. For him, exchanging rich labor for food and a meager salary was something he had thought about in his previous life but had not been able to do once until he died.

As always, Aransail worked diligently, cleaning sewage, sorting out waste, sweeping the house, washing metal tools, washing bed linen and clothes, all tasks that Aransell had been given to him when he first arrived at Gulba's residence.

Recently, Gurba discovered that Aransail was still quite a cultured little fellow, so he was given the job of sorting the books on the shelves according to language type and content type.

Aransell took the job without complaint. Gulba crouched in front of his workbench, on which were lined with transparent prismatic crystals.

He wore round-rimmed cyan metal glasses, his fingers stained, and he was frowning as he was writing something on parchment. His eyes were sharp, with the concentration of a craftsman.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Gurba frowned and said enter, but he didn't look at the door. Aransell walked in, silently lifted the barrel full of sewage, and left the cabin as lightly as he could, closing the door quietly.

As Aransail left, Gulba glanced at him without a trace, his eyes full of doubt, but he couldn't help but feel a little relieved when he looked at his hard work.

"Maybe you won't have to bother going to the town to find a working kid this time......"