When Isaac Wesk opened his eyes that morning, the world didn't feel new — it felt borrowed.
He didn't remember his old name, only that it was gone, buried under the weight of two lifetimes now tangled together. One belonged to a man from another world — a vague, misty life of screens, noise, and warmth. The other belonged to a young noble, heir to a small, forgotten territory on the edge of the Copper Rank Monster Zone — a borderland between civilization and chaos.
Both sets of memories were his, both sets of regrets too.
The boy named Isaac Wesk had died alone, orphaned by a monster raid that devoured his parents and their guards. The man who woke up in his body… didn't have the luxury to mourn.
He had too much to do, and too little to do it with.
The morning sunlight crept through the cracked window shutters of his bedroom, glinting off the worn silver crest of House Wesk — a tarnished emblem showing a tower standing against waves. Once, that crest symbolized strength. Now, it was just irony.
Outside, the wind carried the smell of earth, smoke, and grain. His entire domain stretched across a small valley, filled with farmland and tired faces. About five hundred souls called this place home, and nearly all of them were farmers.
No knights. No soldiers. No guards.
Even the family retainers had long since fled after the death of the previous lord and lady. The few who stayed did so not out of loyalty, but because they had nowhere else to go.
The castle — if one could even call it that — was a crumbling keep built atop a hill, surrounded by wooden palisades and a few watchtowers that leaned like drunkards. Below it, patchwork fields spread like a green-brown quilt stitched by the desperate.
The edge of the Copper Rank Monster Zone loomed just past the eastern forest. Low-ranking monsters, they said — weak, manageable, rarely seen in groups. But Isaac knew better.
A single Copper-tier beast could slaughter an unarmed farmer in seconds.
This territory was a coffin waiting for its lid to close.
"Master Isaac," came a voice from the doorway, soft yet commanding.
Isaac turned to see her — Melissa.
His maid, his caretaker, and possibly the only person in the castle who didn't look at him with pity.
She was a half-elf, silver-haired and sharp-eyed, with a quiet grace that came from years of servitude. The pointed tips of her ears peeked from beneath her veil, and her face carried the calm of someone who had seen too much and chosen not to care anymore.
She was in her late thirties — perhaps forty, though he never asked. In this world, years left marks harsher than numbers.
And though Isaac was technically her master, their relationship was a joke.
She ran the castle.
She fed him.
She even had to wake him every morning.
He was just the lord by name.
Melissa carried a tray of bread and goat milk, setting it beside his bed with the same graceful efficiency she always had.
"Your breakfast, my lord," she said. "The sun's already high. You shouldn't waste it."
Isaac sighed, brushing his messy brown hair aside. "You make it sound like I have things to do."
"You do," she said pointedly. "If you don't inspect the grain stores today, we'll run out by next week."
"I suppose starvation counts as a to-do list," he muttered.
Melissa gave him that familiar, unimpressed look — the one that said she'd scolded him too many times to bother anymore. "Eat, my lord. You can philosophize after breakfast."
"Yes, yes, mother," Isaac murmured under his breath, earning a raised eyebrow. He quickly cleared his throat. "I mean, thank you, Melissa."
She smiled faintly, just enough to make him feel she found him hopelessly childish. Then she bowed and left, her long skirt brushing the stone floor.
When the door closed, Isaac leaned back against his pillow, staring at the cracked ceiling.
His memories — both sets — swirled inside his head.
He knew he was reborn. He didn't know why, or by whom.
He had vague recollections of a past life — a man, possibly a student, dying in a world of cities and lights. The rest was haze.
But the noble boy's memories? Those were vivid.
Parents torn apart by monsters.
A castle losing soldiers, then retainers, then hope.
And Isaac — the last of his line — left to rot in a corner of the map.
No knights. No wealth.
Only a few hundred peasants and a maid he had bought.
Yes, bought.
Melissa was a former slave he had purchased for a handful of silver when the old butler fled, taking the castle's treasury with him. She had come from a faraway elven forest, captured in a war Isaac barely remembered reading about.
And yet, even though he had technically "saved" her, she was more like the master between them.
She handled the food, the cleaning, the taxes, the letters — even the washing.
Isaac mostly handled… existential dread.
He rubbed his temples and muttered, "If this is reincarnation, where's my damn cheat?"
After breakfast, Isaac left his chambers and walked through the keep's echoing hallways. The walls were cold stone, decorated with faded banners of House Wesk. He passed through the courtyard, where farmers came and went with carts of grain. They bowed awkwardly as he passed — not out of respect, but fear. Nobles in this land were known to punish disobedience harshly.
But Isaac wasn't like his father.
He was too tired to be cruel.
He reached the barracks — a long building of stone and timber that used to house knights and squires.
It was empty now.
Weapons racks stood bare, dust-covered. The smell of rust and old sweat lingered.
Once, a hundred knights had trained here, their armor gleaming beneath the morning sun.
Now, only silence remained.
He leaned against a pillar, sighing. "Not even one. All gone. Can't really blame them, though…"
Why would any knight stay in a territory that couldn't even afford to pay for their armor polish?
He stared out the window at the horizon — the forest beyond, where the faint roars of monsters echoed through the distance.
If one horde breached the border, the entire territory would fall in hours.
It wasn't a question of if, but when.
And Isaac had nothing to stop it.
"Gods above," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "If this is a second chance, it's a cruel joke. I can't fight, can't lead, can't—"
A chime echoed in his head.
> [System Activation Detected.]
Isaac froze.
Then another line of glowing blue text appeared in his vision, suspended in the air like a projection only he could see.
> [Welcome, Lord of Wesk Castle.]
[Initializing: Castle Crasher System.]
His breath caught. "Wait—what?"
> [Condition Detected: Low Prosperity Territory.]
[Resources: Minimal.]
[Population: 512.]
[Castle Integrity: 78%.]
[Status: Pitiful.]
"…Okay, rude," he muttered.
The text scrolled again.
> [The Castle Crasher System will assist in the defense and prosperity of your domain.]
[Grow your castle. Prosper. Expand. Defend.]
[Rewards will be given accordingly.]
[Note: System operates on Prosperity Points.]
[Prosperity: 0%. Current Rewards: None.]
Isaac's hope immediately crumbled. "So I still have nothing."
Then, a smaller text appeared below.
> [Due to your tragic circumstances, a compensatory reward has been issued.]
[Free Summon Granted: 100 Gray Knights.]
His eyes widened. "Wait… one hundred knights?!"
> [Summon Location: Barracks.]
The air shifted. A sudden hum of power vibrated through the ground, followed by the faint clang of metal.
Outside, shouts echoed.
Melissa's voice carried from the courtyard, alarmed. "My lord?! What's happening?"
Isaac grinned, half-shocked, half-exhilarated. "Finally," he whispered, standing straight. "A real system. A real chance."
He bolted down the hallway and out toward the training yard.
When he arrived at the barracks, his jaw nearly hit the ground.
They were there.
A hundred armored figures, each one identical — clad in dull gray steel, visors hiding blank faces. They stood in perfect rows, silent, waiting.
Each one radiated faint power, not overwhelming, but disciplined. Soldiers — no, knights.
His knights.
"By the gods…" Isaac muttered. "It actually worked."
Behind him, Melissa appeared, her expression sharp with disbelief. "Master Isaac… who are these people? I—I heard shouting, and light from the barracks—"
Isaac turned, forcing a calm smile. "Ah, right. About that. You see, apparently, I have a… relative. From far away. They sent help."
"Help?" she repeated, eyes narrowing. "A hundred armed men?"
"Yes! They're, uh, family retainers. Very loyal."
Melissa studied him for a moment, her half-elven eyes suspicious but weary. She'd seen too much to question miracles anymore. "If you say so, my lord."
"I do," Isaac said quickly, already turning back to his newly summoned troops. "You can, uh, rest for now, Melissa. I'll handle them."
"As you wish," she said with a small bow, though he caught the faintest smirk at the corner of her lips — the same one she wore whenever she thought he was hiding something.
Then she left.
Isaac exhaled, turning to the army before him.
The knights all turned simultaneously, their helmets gleaming under the afternoon light. Then, as one, they dropped to a knee, slamming gauntleted fists to their chests.
"Your Majesty!" a hundred voices boomed in perfect unison.
Isaac blinked. "…Majesty?"
"Command us!" one shouted.
"Glory to the Lord of Wesk!" yelled another.
"Where's the enemy?! We'll smash them!"
He rubbed his temples. "Okay, they're… loyal. That's good. Very good. Maybe a bit too loyal."
Then one of them, clearly the boldest, raised his sword and shouted, "We shall rebuild your empire, sire!"
"I don't even have a village yet—wait, stop waving that thing indoors!"
Half the formation stumbled as they tried to adjust, clanging into one another like metal dominoes. A few fell over entirely.
The sound echoed through the hall.
Isaac just stared. "Oh… oh no. They're idiots."
That night, Isaac stood atop the castle walls, overlooking the flickering torches below.
The village was alive for once — villagers whispering about the mysterious knights who'd appeared from nowhere, hope sparking in their tired eyes.
For the first time, Isaac saw light in this dying place.
The system's panel hovered before him again, glowing faintly in the moonlight.
> [Castle Prosperity: 3%.]
[Knights Summoned: 100 / 100.]
[Next Unlock at Prosperity 10% — Elemental Knight (Choose: Fire, Ice, Lightning, or Poison).]
A slow smile crept across his face.
He didn't remember his old name, or what kind of man he used to be.
But this world — this broken, hungry, dangerous world — had given him a chance.
And he wasn't about to waste it.
Below, the clumsy clanking of his "elite" army echoed again as a group of Gray Knights tried to chase a rabbit through the fields — and somehow managed to set a haystack on fire in the process.
Isaac sighed, leaning on the battlements.
"Of course. Idiots," he muttered.
Then, after a moment's thought, he grinned.
"…But they're my idiots."
Yes... I finished college and this is the first thing I do...