Death was swift... but it wasn't the end.
He opened his eyes slowly. A dim light filtered through a cracked glass window. The scent of damp wood and dusty earth filled his nose. He tried to sit up—the wooden bed beneath him creaked, and his entire body screamed in pain.
He raised his hand before his face and froze.
This wasn't his hand.
It was larger, rougher, and covered with old scars and calluses. Fingers built for war. His chest heaved as he touched his own skin, confirming what he feared.
"What… is this?"
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he glanced around the room. Straw roof, walls of dried mud, a small window with no curtains. A dusty wooden cabinet stood by the wall, a half-burnt candle melted over its edge. In the corner, a bucket of water covered with cloth. A cracked mirror.
He approached it. The face staring back was unfamiliar. A man in his mid-twenties with wild crimson-red hair and piercing violet eyes. Handsome, yes—but weary. A faint scar ran across his left eyebrow.
"This… isn't me."
And then it happened.
A translucent blue screen blinked into existence before him.
[System Activated]
Host: Alistair Darin
Title: Minor Baron – Verdell Territory
Soul Fusion: 100%
Shared Memory Integration: Complete
An overwhelming torrent of memories stormed into his head—flashes of a life he hadn't lived. A young boy training with a sword. A father who vanished. Betrayals. Starving villagers. Fire in the stables. A knife in the dark. Then... blackness.
He groaned, clutching his skull.
"So I'm… Alistair now? But I was Arian… I was Arian."
He opened the warped wooden door and stepped into a narrow hallway leading to a rustic kitchen. Cracked walls, dirt floor, old cooking tools. The scent of old bread lingered.
He walked past the fireplace and touched the rough stone wall, eventually finding a window. Outside lay a forgotten village—rotting wooden homes and distant barren fields.
"Here, huh? A new world… a new beginning."
The door burst open.
An old man stepped in, breathless, with pale eyes and a bald crown surrounded by silver hair.
"My lord!" the man gasped. "You're standing! The physician said… you might never wake again!"
Alistair turned to him. "Your name?"
The man blinked. "Me? I'm Garth, my lord. Your steward. I've served your family since you were a child… don't you remember me?"
Alistair shook his head. "My memory… is foggy. I need time. Where are we, exactly?"
"In your manor, in the village of Brixton," Garth replied gently. "It's part of the Verdell territory. You're the rightful baron here."
"And the territory… how bad is it?"
Garth's shoulders sagged. "Not good, my lord. The peasants are starving. Most of the soldiers deserted. Taxes haven't been collected in two seasons."
Alistair gestured toward the table and sat down. He took a cracked cup and drank half of the water in silence.
"Tell me honestly—who am I, Garth? How do the people see me?"
Garth hesitated, then answered softly. "You were… distant, my lord. Arrogant, perhaps. Not cruel—but detached. Your father was beloved. After his death… everything changed."
"When did he die?"
"Two years ago. He left for a winter hunt and never returned. No body was found."
Alistair's eyes narrowed. "And the surrounding lands? Are there threats?"
"South of us is Baron Kedrin—he's been sending spies. And the northern church is demanding old tributes. Our food stores are nearly empty."
Suddenly, a second screen appeared:
[Main Quest Unlocked]
Revive Verdell
Objectives:
– Restore order in the village
– Rebuild basic infrastructure
– Raise Popularity to 50%
Rewards:
– Basic Management Skill
– Access to Construction Menu
– Regional Mini-map
Alistair blinked. "A system… like a strategy game?"
He stood and walked to the door. Before stepping out, he looked back at Garth.
"Tell me, Garth… the people. What's their state?"
The steward sighed, voice laced with sorrow.
"They're broken, my lord. Hungry, afraid, tired. They've lost hope… even in you."
Alistair paused, his violet eyes glowing faintly under the morning sun. A warm wind swept through his red hair.
"Then let's give them a reason to believe again."