Prologue

Proofread by Thomas F. 9th Feb 2025.

"They have appeared," I said with a quivering voice.

I attempted to conceal the fear in my tone, but I couldn't, as the massive swarm of undead approached the city like a tidal wave.

I had fought against the undead, but never at this scale; it seemed unending.

I knew this day would come. I knew the army of the dead did not lack bodies, but I could not have imagined this.

I fear my rag-tag army won't stand much of a chance against it.

It consisted of seasoned soldiers, mercenaries, adventurers, and individuals with little to no combat experience, some of whom had never held a sword before. I look down the lines of men and women, seeing fear in the eyes of veterans and amateurs alike.

What choice do we have but to fight in these circumstances? If we do not fight and repel the undead, every man, woman, and child will be turned by morning.

"Be truthful with me, Stone. What are our chances of making it through this?" I asked my general, my voice steady despite the weight of the situation.

"Less than 20%, Lord Governor," the towering man replied, his tone as grim as his expression.

Greater odds than I would have given us, but still... nasty, though.

I turned towards the docks. It was the first time I'd ever seen them empty. They had been thriving until yesterday, and now they are empty.

Count Darrow has escaped.

He abandoned the city that had brought him colossal wealth and influence. Instead of standing with his city, he ran away in the name of seeking aid and took with him the people and resources that could have been used to defend it.

Had he stayed, we would have had a real chance of victory.

It's been nearly two years since I arrived in Greltheaven, and the city has grown beyond anything I had imagined.

In that time, I've built my own success—more significant than my father ever did. Perhaps even more than the entire House of Silver, depending on how one looks at it.

Now, this horde will take it all from me, and the only one I can blame is that coward, Darrow.

If I survive this somehow, I will kill the bastard—no matter the consequences.

…

'I hope you enjoy Greltheaven, little brother.'

"Master Silver, we have arrived at Greltheaven," Hendriks said as he shook me awake. Even after waking up, my brother's snide words echoed in my mind, reminding me that it was not a dream but the harsh reality.

'I will have my revenge, you bastards,' I thought before turning to the small city by the river. The place where I will now live, all thanks to my dearest siblings, who will pay for what they have done to me.

It is an awe-inspiring sight. Although it was a newly built city, it had not yet been officially inaugurated. The city is a beautiful piece of architecture.

This is Greltheaven.

Named after the fourth prince of the empire. He had constructed this city in just two short years at a staggering cost. The city was a testament to the prince's vision and ambition, and it was a symbol of his power and wealth.

Building such a city was a huge gamble. Located in the newly conquered region. It would always be at risk of being destroyed by the empire's enemies. Yet, if it endured for even a decade, the wealth it produced could fuel the prince's ambitions and solidify his aspirations.

In short, the city was a high-risk, high-reward proposition for the prince, and its success or failure would significantly impact his future.

"Grandmaster Raldin deserves all the praise in the world for creating this pearl of wasteland," Hendricks said, awe-struck. "This city he designed is truly magnificent."

The city had an expansive inland port with room for further development. Its thick white walls, which looked like they had been carved out of marble, surrounded the port.

They looked beautiful and delicate, but looks could be deceiving. They were enchanted with powerful wards that could even stop multiple meteor spells cast by level 30 mages. I had heard they did the trial a few months ago, and the walls held, without a scratch

However, I have my doubts about the accuracy of this information—it's possible that it isn't entirely true.

Beyond the walls, the city was a sight to behold. It was a blend of beautiful structures, each built in a unique style that reflected the diversity of the empire's architecture.

Our ship navigated the Trollmouth River and eventually docked at the port. We disembarked and stepped into the bustling port.

In a month, the city would be officially inaugurated, drawing people from all walks of life—some seeking a new home, others arriving as tourists, and some with motives far less predictable.

Soon, we reached the carriage that was already waiting for us. The driver was a man who looked to be in his mid-sixties, with sandy brown hair.

"Mister Silver," he greeted as he took our bags from the porter and loaded them into the carriage swiftly before opening the door for us.

A few seconds later, we sat comfortably in the carriage, and it began to roll.

I watched the port through the glass window, and I have to say, I was impressed seeing the archaic beauty. It starkly contrasted with the modern ports back on Earth, which are filled with heavy machinery.

Instead of machines, Greltheaven ran on magic. I was fascinated by how magic was integrated into the daily lives of the people here, from manual laborers to chauffeurs. During this ride through the city, I could feel the driver activating a couple of his skills for our comfort.

It's incredible to see how magic plays such a crucial role in society's everyday functioning. For the people here, magic is second nature; they've seamlessly integrated it into their lives. It's fascinating to see how it has shaped the cultures, traditions, and even the architecture of this world.

There is a popular saying in this world. 'It is classes that make us,' and I can't help but see the truth of it. It is because of my class that I came here.

I would never have come here if I hadn't received this class. I might have even discarded the scraps my brothers left behind. But they had planned everything meticulously, ensuring that I would not only come here but remain for the rest of my life.

"A fitting end for a bastard," they said.

They had gotten everything while I got some scraps. I wouldn't have even minded the scraps, but they interfered with my class! My main class!

Once again, I steadied myself and turned my attention to the city. The carriage had just passed through the massive port gates, gliding smoothly over the wide cobblestone road—broad enough to accommodate several carriages side by side.

As we traveled deeper into the city, I took in the breathtaking architecture surrounding me. Each building, no matter its size, was uniquely crafted, displaying a diverse array of styles that blended tradition with innovation.

It is clear that the prince had grand ambitions for the city, which is good because now it is my home. I want it to flourish, as it is good for business.

I couldn't help but sigh when I think about my business. Those bastards have thrown something at me that I had no interest in. A business many would not look favorably on. None of that matters anymore; I'm forced to do it, as it's now connected to my base class.

I take solace that one day, I'll take revenge against those who have wronged me.

Soon, the carriage had reached the entertainment district, which was known for hotels, casinos, and much more.

Many business houses had invested in the city, not because they believed in its future, as most of them thought it would be destroyed within a decade, but because of the fourth prince, who was a strong contender for the throne, and nobody wanted to be his enemy. So they made a token investment, like my father, to benefit both sides.

The prince got the investments he needed for his new city, while the business houses got some time before they needed to choose sides in the inevitable war of succession.

Soon, the carriage slowed down and stopped at the gate of a beautiful mansion.