"I hereby name you a King of Poland, Grand Prince of Lithuania, Prince of the Prussia, Livonia, Mazowia..."
Hearing a long and boring list of the various titles bestowed upon the new head of the state, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of feeling it would be... To sit on the throne while feeling the gazes of the crowd on your back as the highest priest of the state lays the crown on your head... Instead, I was forced to watch the show of this fucking bastard who was going to run away in a matter of months!
Henry Valois, infamous King of Poland with the shortest real reign in the history of the entire country, better known as the Henry the third, the last of his household to rule France.
The ongoing event was this close to making me forget that my situation was actually quite peculiar.
Because either this new game had some insane and age-breaking solutions to all the problems with the VR that plagued the industry since its conception, or it somehow managed to achieve what was already cliche enough to earn a name for itself - transmigration. After all, so far, the only moment where I could think about the game... Was when I was straining my eyes to look at the very corner of my field of view!
But how the heck did this even happened?
Thrilled by the release of the completely new title from the company that established itself as the leader of grand strategy simulators through the years, I made sure to stock on all sorts of snacks and food, to make sure no hunger nor thirst would stop me from enjoying myself with the fresh copy I just got from the online store.
By the time my quick scavenging run towards the closest grocery finally could be concluded as I reached the steps leading to my apartment... By the time all I could think about was finally launching this age-changing, market-shattering, jaw-dropping and long-downloading game... By the time I was about to reach the floor I was living on... I tripped.
Stop laughing right fucking now! I wonder if you could maintain stability while running on the stairs! Okay, let's add your heart pumping more adrenaline into your veins than an average sportsman could ever receive without the use of forbidden drugs during his last game in his career!
But that tripping was what started this entire madness.
Living rather fulfilled life, working a proper job and, for the most part, taking care of my body needs I managed to fall on my knee in order to regain my stability. And everything would be all right, if not for the fact that when I raised my head in hopes of seeing the doors of my apartment... I saw this entire coronation ceremony!
By the time I somehow managed to organise my thoughts, I, at last, noticed the flashing screen that was painfully close to how the game window was teased to look like. With no other sensible way of understanding the situation I suddenly found myself in, I decided to just observe the events just as the coronation ceremony concluded. Or a small part of it at least.
"Rise, Henry of the house Valois!"
With the bishops approaching the soon-to-be-King with holy oils, he proceeded to smear it on Henry's shoulders, chest, back and forehead. The moment it was done, the Royal swordsman made his way over while carrying the ancient sword said to be wielded by the very first king that ever ruled the country.
Recalling the bits of ceremonial knowledge I once learned, I realised that the whole process was nowhere near the true end. As everyone here was only about to enter the painfully long period of traditional moves and actions, I decided to use this time to make any sense of my situation.
With how limited the historical resources about this age were, even if one of the legendary figures of the period were to be kneeling right beside me, I wouldn't be any wiser. The only thing I could learn by looking around started at how men wearing a cap inside the church was already considered faux pas and ended at the realisation that crimson clothes have yet to become as popular as they would be with the rise of magnates.
Kneeling down and unable to spot any clues about my current situation, I could only focus on the flashing window hidden in the corner on my view... Only to learn that the moment I thought about it, it moved right in front of my eyes!
I only needed a few seconds to recognise how to move around the menu, quickly recognising familiar names, buttons and walls of text. Years of wasting my time away on playing the previous iterations of the game didn't go to waste after all! Even the ledger option was still there, albeit limited only to the neighbouring countries in the nation map mode and nearby provinces in the local map.
Before the new King managed to make a sign of the cross in the air with the traditional three swings of the treasured sword, I already learned that I was apparently a lord of a small town of Tarnow, with the entire area and villages surrounding it.
At least this bit was nice. Being a part of the landed nobility in one of the most important provinces of the country, that is. Thinking about the prospects of my privately owned land, I couldn't help but turn greedy. Located right in the middle of a major road that connected the current capital of the country - Krakow - with one of the five major hubs that would be later called a heart of the country in the far-off future - Lwow.
Just this fact alone would guarantee insane wealth, as long as I would be able to bank on it properly!
But the state of the country wasn't as great as I would like it to be.
Within the next two years, this state would be struck by the escape of the king -sic!-, interregnum, a rebellion of the most important trade hub in the north, war with the powerful Muscovy or rather a newly established tsardom of Russia...
I read too many novels about being transmigrated to another world, life or timeline to even bother trying to get back to my normal life. Wasting my time as the spectator of the coronation ceremony, if I were to act out of the line, I would be swiftly ostracised and all prospects for the future would be gone.
And to be fair, if I were to choose between making a place for myself as a damned noble during the golden century of my country or working nine to five, five days a week and pretending I'm not wasting my life away...
Even if given the choice, I would not decide to return!
Fuck cars! I can enjoy riding the horses without appearing as a freak to others! Fuck the internet! I won't have to endure trolls that think they can say anything to anyone! Fuck the democracy, where I'm nothing more than a minuscule gear in the system for others to exploit!
It's time to start this new life as a fucking noble!
But first, I need to stop myself from sleeping through the rest of this lengthy and pointless ceremony!