Decree

In a small town like Shrewsberry, all news filters through the tavern and the general stores. Thus, these are the prime locations for the well informed. This is simultaneously an opportunity and a dilemma for me. My best chance at obtaining or overhearing information is at those places. Unfortunately, the many angry farmers have doubtlessly slandered me at those places. Thus, the people there will be keeping an eye out to capture me.

A faint shifting sound directs my attention. It's my roommate, a small badger who wedged herself in an alcove of the cave. I can't see her through the darkness, but there's a good chance she's awake.

"I'll be leaving first. If I need to return, I'll make sure to bring you more rent."

The 'rent' was some food the children smuggled to me from their dinner before we parted. The children believe I left for home. I didn't tell them I'm staying in this cave, so I'll be safe even if they don't keep my presence a secret. The downside is I'll have to find all future food on my own.

"Chit Chit Chitter. [Bring something better next time or I won't let a smelly thing like you in.]"

Chuckling to myself, I exit the cave. How odd is it that this badger is like a stereotypical human landlord?

It's evening. The pain from the collar mysteriously stopped about 15 minutes ago. It may only activate during a forced laborer's working hours. Thus, it's probable that the collar was transmitting pain because this body wasn't at the worksite.

I wonder where that is?

Normally, I would expect the pain to continue as a punishment for missing work. Did they fail to notice my body's absence? Is the employer compassionate enough to wave the punishment? Will they investigate the cause of my absence and come for me?

Regardless, the lack of pain is beneficial.

The cave is part of the woods. It's across the road from the newer neighborhood the children are a part of. The town center is only about a mile away, but the landowners have yet to develop more than a few houses along the river.

I arrive at the edge of the town by traversing the forest on the shadowy side of the trail. Along the way, only a single man riding horseback passes by. I'm relying on a cloak for anonymity. The children borrowed it for me— 'in case I run into weather while returning.'

The buildings of Shrewsberry are composed of wood and brick, the common materials in the woodlands by the river.

Hopefully, the farmers are still describing me mostly as wearing leaves. I take the less traveled outer roads and countryside around the town once.

My recollection of Shrewsberry must be off. The town should be larger. It's also strange that there is no sign of the disaster at all. Could many years have passed since my death as Lord Mallory?

I sulk around the side of a smaller general store on the outskirts of town where a major road enters the town. I'm lucky because there's an open window. At first, the customer's words are brief, and they only buy a few items. Then a small contingent of knights enters the town, and a squire enters the store.

"Wanted posters and a decree from King Anton. We'll be announcing the decree in the town square shortly."

King Anton? When I died, the king of Shingo under my rule as emperor was King Harris. Has an entire generation passed since I died as Lord Mallory? At least the royal family is still doing well. They named their descendant after their grandfather, who was king when I was only a child.

I follow the knights to the square. A king's decree ought to draw a crowd and give me cover. I'll also have a reason to be there incurring no suspicion.

As the knight's march, they send their squires to inform various key points of town. The bell towers ring, signaling for the people to gather. Soon I'm on the fringe of a crowd over a thousand people strong.

The decree begins: "Here ye! Here ye! As decreed by the Great King Anton, Ruler of the land. Protector of its people…"

I disregard the flowery speech, which continues to praise the king until, "... has directed Lord Mallory…"

"What?" Is the king directing me? No, in this body I am no longer known as Lord Mallory and I had no children. When did a new noble Mallory family appear?

"to recruit and train a force to bring our homeland glory in the retaking of Alphonso's Plain. Talented men looking for adventure, glory, and ample rewards are encouraged to journey to Mallory City."

The retaking of Alphonso's Plain is an event I am all too familiar with… and the city of Mallory, my destroyed hometown, still exists?

Realization strikes me: I didn't reincarnate years later. I reincarnated into the past!

No wonder Shrewsberry is less developed, and there is no trace of the disaster. Also, if this is the past, then this body's slave collar isn't illegal. That's why the farmers showed no surprise and only think of handing me to the authorities.

The 'Lord Mallory' in the king's decree must be my previous self's late father and my family is intact?

In shock, I turn to a person near me who is leaning on a slatted wall. "Is what they say true? Does Mallory city still exist?"

The burly man in a blacksmith apron cocks his head and raises an eyebrow, "Boy, what do you mean still exists? Mallory city is the home of the local lord and his family. If it didn't exist, monsters would'a overrun Shrewsberry. None of us would be here. Be grateful to them for thinning out the monsters."

Oh right, how could I ask a question like that? Anyone who hasn't experienced the future will think I'm crazy. Also, this means when I cursed the lord and his family before dying to goblins previously, I was cursing myself...

I give myself an internal facepalm. To think I used to brag that my family was so fierce no monsters could ever find another of its kind inside our territory.

I quickly derive an excuse, "Apologies, this may sound crazy, but I had a dream where Mallory city was destroyed. Thankfully, that is not the case."

"Say, kid, why don't you lift your hood for me. I don't think I've seen a kid like you around town before."

Uh oh. I've attracted unnecessary attention to myself.

"I'm only a visitor from Red Terrace, no need to remember my face," I say before turning and walking down the street.

Red Terrace is a formidable military academy. I borrow its name to make the man hesitate, but as I walk, cold sweat runs down my back.

...