In the gloomy sky, dark clouds loomed over Pramisburg. The moist water molecules in the air almost visibly formed patches of mist, shuttling back and forth through the city's streets and alleys, wantonly soaking the pedestrians' clothes.

  Two carriages galloped past on the street. The thick wheels squeezed and splashed the sewage mercilessly onto the pedestrians by the roadside. They glared angrily but dared not say a word. Someone muttered a curse under their breath, and a whip cracked down like lightning, striking the person.

  Looking at the golden thorn wreath emblem on the carriage, the ragged woman by the roadside tightly covered her child's mouth, fearing that he would say something disrespectful and anger the noble in the carriage.

  Glancing at the shabby streets outside the carriage, Arno's eyes shifted slightly before he turned to look at the man sitting opposite him. "I don't like it here, but I have to be here," he said, his tone filled with dissatisfaction and mockery. "Thieves, robbers, murderers, swindlers... This is truly a damned city!"

  The middle - aged man sitting opposite Arno was wearing a well - fitting dark red tailcoat. The white lace collar of his shirt, like green leaves, gently framed his stubbly chin. He had a very handsome face, with the charm that time had precipitated, exuding a captivating and mature aura. He smiled indifferently, snapped his fingers, and took out an exquisite silver cigarette case from his pocket. The cigarette case was inlaid with a circle of tiny gemstones, and the thumb - thick emerald in the middle sparkled with a bright green luster under the gentle light of the fixed illumination spell.

  He opened the cigarette case, used a delicate silver knife only as long as his palm to dig out a small piece of tobacco brick, and stuffed it into the pipe carved from dragon - blood wood. He lowered his head slightly and raised the pipe as a gesture. Arno shook his head; he didn't like this way of smoking. The man casually snapped his fingers, and suddenly a spark appeared out of thin air, igniting the tobacco in the pipe bowl. A rich fragrance immediately filled the carriage.

  This tobacco brick was a specialty from the half - dragon people and was a special - supply item only for the nobles. It was said that this tobacco was grown in the dragon's living area, where dragon saliva often dripped, creating this special aroma. Smoking this kind of tobacco didn't put any burden on the body; instead, it would enhance the physique and increase the mental power to a certain extent, and it was an essential part of the nobles' daily lives.

  "I understand what you mean, but you need to understand that this is the final result of the discussion between the Privy Council and the Imperial Parliament. You can be passive about it, but you must never resist the result," the middle - aged nobleman said with a smile. He pushed open the carriage window, and a stench of decay was blown into the carriage with the wind. "Although there are all sorts of problems here, it also has its unique advantages."

  Arno immediately showed a listening expression. The man opposite was one of the seventy - two permanent members of the Imperial Parliament, which could be said to be a representative of the upper - class figures in the entire empire. Moreover, he himself was one of the great nobles of the empire.

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  "Pramisburg may not be as prosperous as Alexandria or as wealthy as Wikiville, but it's easier to achieve something here. The biggest dilemma you're facing now isn't extreme poverty in terms of wealth, but the need to have your own power base," the middle - aged man said in one breath and then paused for a moment. He took a puff on his pipe, and the tobacco in the pipe bowl suddenly spat out a few sparks, and a wisp of gray smoke rose. "Govern Pramisburg well, take control of this place, and change it, and you'll have the capital to stand on your own feet. Look at those great nobles. Which one doesn't have a rock - solid fief? A fief can not only provide you with sufficient wealth but also a large number of troops and talents."

  "What is a noble? If you don't have hundreds of thousands or even more commoners under your feet, what makes you noble?"

  The middle - aged man advised earnestly, "Remember, this is both a test and an opportunity. As long as you govern Pramisburg well, I believe those who used to share weal and woe with the Thorn family won't mind giving you a hand again."

  Arno nodded and kept it in mind.

  The Orlando Empire had twelve Golden Families. Four of them had completely perished in the long river of history. Among the remaining eight, the Golden Lion family became the imperial royal family, the Golden Scepter family became the imperial prime minister, the Golden War - Bear family was enfeoffed as the imperial marshal, and the rest became vassals of these three. And he, Arno Alcania, was the last blood - related heir of the Golden Thorn family. In the Orlando language, Alcania meant a thorny stem, which was a thorn.

  As one of the twelve Golden Families, the Golden Thorn family originally had a hereditary dukedom and a large fiefdom. However, after generations of political strife and struggles, it was gradually weakened. Until now, there was only a hereditary baron title left, the fiefdom was completely a thing of the past, and even the fief had been revoked.

  In March this year, known as the Bloody March, a cruel political strife broke out again in the imperial capital. As a fence - sitter, the head of the Alcania family, that is, Arno's father, took the wrong side again. In a fit of rage, he went to see the God of Light directly, leaving all the mess to Arno. Fortunately, although his old father took the wrong side, he was still one of the twelve Golden Families. Out of respect for the family, the empire gave Arno a little face. After confiscating all his property, they kicked him out of the imperial capital and exiled him to Pramisburg.

  Pramisburg was located in the Weimar Corridor between the Orlando Empire and the Byron Empire. It was a very chaotic area where scoundrels from both the Orlando Empire and the Byron Empire gathered, making it a paradise for crime. It was said that eleven nobles who had been exiled here had died mysteriously during their tenure, and the empire's several attempts to arrest the culprits had ended up with no results.

  It was easy to imagine how bad Arno's mood was at this time.

  What made Arno even more unhappy was that he wasn't actually Arno himself.

  On the day his father died of anger, Arno was also assassinated secretly. Obviously, someone wanted to reduce the number of Golden Families. They succeeded and failed at the same time. The original Arno really died, but a new Arno was born.

  Thus, the greatest villain, executioner, racist, butcher, and tyrant in history was born.

  Of course, at this time, Arno didn't realize what kind of changes a transmigrated soul would bring to this world. He was just an unlucky guy who had been kicked out of the imperial capital and exiled to the border. Even more unlucky, apart from fifty gold coins and a fifth - level knight, he had no other help.

  The man in front of him could only make the local forces in the city choose to wait and see for the time being. The only one who could really help Arno was himself.