Chapter 1: (Edited)

Chapter One: A New Throne.

The rain was relentless, soaking Dorian Veylan to the bone as he stumbled through the empty streets. His steps were uneven, his breath fogging in the cold night air.

Loneliness weighed on him, pressing down with every step. He had spent his life chasing meaningless goals—working aimlessly, avoiding connections, and drowning in an endless cycle of regrets.

There was no family waiting for him. No friends who would notice if he disappeared.

"What's the point?" he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse.

The blare of a horn startled him. He looked up just in time to see headlights barreling toward him. Pain exploded through his body, and the world turned black.

---

Dorian woke with a sharp gasp, his lungs heaving as though he'd been pulled from the depths of the ocean.

The room around him was dimly lit, its wooden walls unfamiliar. The scent of smoke and faint perfume lingered in the air.

"Where...?" he muttered, his voice rasping.

A shadow moved near the window, drawing his attention. A woman stepped into the light of a flickering lantern, her auburn hair glinting like polished copper. She was stunning, with sharp green eyes and a regal bearing that spoke of power and authority.

"You're awake," she said, her voice low and measured.

Dorian blinked, struggling to focus. His body ached, his arms wrapped in fresh bandages. "Who... are you?"

The woman frowned, her gaze hardening. "Your wife."

The words hit him like a blow. He stared at her, trying to process what she'd just said.

"My... wife?"

"Don't pretend you've forgotten," she said coldly. "This was your idea, wasn't it? Charging into the borderlands to prove yourself as a 'king.' Now look at you—half-dead and useless."

---

The pieces began to fall into place as Dorian's foggy mind cleared. He wasn't in the modern world anymore. Somehow, he had woken up in a new body—a younger, stronger body that bore the scars of battle. And he was a king.

Not a powerful king with armies at his command, though. No, his kingdom was little more than a handful of villages clinging to survival on the edge of civilization.

Lyria, his wife, regarded him with disdain. Their marriage had been arranged to secure an alliance between their families—nothing more.

"I thought you'd finally gotten yourself killed," she said, folding her arms. "It would've made things easier for everyone."

Before Dorian could respond, a small voice interrupted them.

"Papa?"

He turned to see a young girl peeking around the doorway. She had bright blue eyes and messy auburn hair—features that mirrored Lyria's but with a softness that was all her own.

"Aria," Lyria said sharply. "Go back to bed."

The girl hesitated, her eyes darting between them. "But I heard Papa—"

"Now," Lyria snapped.

Aria's face fell, and she retreated without another word.

---

As the night wore on, Dorian learned more about his situation. His kingdom—if it could even be called that—was on the brink of collapse. The villages were starving, bandits roamed unchecked, and neighboring lords eyed his lands with greed.

The weight of it all was suffocating.

"Why are you even here?" Lyria asked, her tone cutting. "You don't care about this kingdom. You've made that clear."

Dorian met her gaze, something sparking in his chest. The old Dorian—the one who had wasted his life in a drunken haze—might have backed down. But this was his second chance.

"I'll fix it," he said quietly.

Lyria's laugh was bitter. "Fix it? You can't even fix yourself."

---

As the first rays of dawn broke through the window, Dorian sat alone in his chambers. He had spent the night poring over maps and reports, trying to understand the full scope of his kingdom's problems.

A sharp ping echoed in his ears. He froze as a glowing blue screen appeared before him.

> Welcome to the Kingdom System

You have been chosen as a Kingdom Builder. create, expand, and rule a kingdom that will stand the test of time. In this world, anything is possible—immortality,—if you rise to the challenge.

Dorian stared at the words, his mind racing.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered.

The screen flickered, displaying a new notification:

> Starting Quest:

Construct your first farm.

Requirements:

50 Wood

30 Stone

"Of course," he said dryly. "Because food's exactly what I'm worried about right now."

But as the screen lingered, an idea took root. This system—whatever it was—might be the key to saving his kingdom.

---

The next morning, Dorian summoned Garrick, the captain of his guards, and Calder, the kingdom's lead mason.

"We're building a farm," Dorian said without preamble.

The two men exchanged confused looks.

"With what resources?" Calder asked.

Dorian raised a hand, silencing him. "We'll gather them. Garrick, I want you to organize a team to cut wood from the eastern forest. Calder, take some men to the quarry and bring back stone."

"What about the bandits?" Garrick asked.

"I'll deal with them if they show up," Dorian said firmly. "Just get me what I need."

---

Three days later, the materials were gathered. Dorian stood at the edge of an empty field near the main village, the blue screen hovering before him.

> Construct Farm?

Yes / No

He tapped Yes, and the system flared to life. Golden light enveloped the field, and the gathered wood and stone dissolved into shimmering particles. Before the villagers' astonished eyes, a small but sturdy farm appeared—complete with tilled soil and a water wheel.

> Farm Constructed: Food Production: +20 per day.

The villagers murmured in awe, their fear replaced with hope.

"Is this... magic?" one of them asked.

Dorian allowed himself a small smile. "Something like that."

---

End of Chapter One.