Ray had apparently robbed some wealthy household, because he currently looked the part—a self-made merchant, more or less.

Ray sat in a tavern, listening to the other patrons argue about the fighting between the Amberbands and the imperial army, until someone finally mentioned the year.

The fifth year of the Peaceful Reign.

What the hell year was that on a real calendar?

Ray quietly pulled out a book.

His otherworldly storage space held every book imaginable, on top of a million years' wort