"I won!" I screamed with joy, jumping up and down. The game had just concluded, and I knocked back my gaming chair in savage glee. My computer monitor, a massive LED thing, bathed me in brilliant, flashing lights as the cheers, the audience took over the screen. "I can't believe it!"

While first-person shooter games made esports popular, I specialized in development games. Where you start from scratch in an unfamiliar environment, build up a settlement, and then eventually create something truly special. Maybe you win by destroying the other countries and taking over the world. Maybe you win by amassing the most wealth, or the most influential culture through religious control. Whatever path other people picked was their business. My path through the game was always the same. Build smart. Take calculated risks. Never stop thinking. Next move, next plan. Always looking for an angle, or an edge. Roll the dice when you can shift things further in your direction.

"Congratulations, Harry!" The announcer came through my video screen, and then I saw my mug blasted across the remote viewers of the millions of people watching from home. Behind those numbers, the sponsors were the ones who really made gaming what it was. They paid so much money for sports leagues, and advertisers got to throw their logos up on the screen whenever they wanted. The logo for this company was a circle with three triangles spread like wings around it. As I looked at it, it seemed to rotate, almost as if in mockery.

I knew sponsorship was the name of the game, literally. The announcer continued, "What are you going to do with the prize money?"

"Put it towards my college fund," I said, still grinning from ear to ear. Maybe my mom wouldn't have to work two jobs anymore! "I'm going to attend the University of Centennial."

"Ah, that explains why you specialize in development games. That's a very technical school. Good for you!" he said, that smile plastered on his face as he leaned over the table.

I was glad I wasn't there in person to smell his sweaty jowls.

"Well, I'm glad we could give you your first taste of victory, Harry. That's what the Jackpot Games are all about!"

"Yeah! Yeah!” I said, throwing my fists into the air. The rest of the interview passed in a blur. I could barely contain my excitement as I left my apartment to walk across the street. I was going to treat myself to victory tacos. My stomach grumbled, and I grinned as I walked. I didn’t have to worry about money anymore. I didn't even notice the two men in suits watching me leave.

"Are we sure this is the one?" The first, shorter, fatter one asked.

"Yeah, we're sure. He just gave us the confirmation," the other said in a raspy voice. "He's going to become one of them."

"Become... you're sure? No chance this is a mistake?"

"None. We've been tracking his progress with the video game trials. You know, and I do that he's exactly what they're looking for. He fits every parameter."

"I don't know, Frank. I don't enjoy sending one of our guys into something like this without knowing the odds of them surviving."

Frank slid his hands in his pockets, "You heard what happened to Tom."

“Yeah...”

I stepped into the Taqueria, ignoring the snippets of conversation on the wind from their car. I was too focused on food. Too excited from winning the championship. Too hungry. The smells hit me like a club to the head. My knees weakened, and I felt like I was going to pass out.

I slid into a booth, placing my head in my hands as the world spun. I wasn't sure if it was from hunger, stress or the smell. Probably all three.

"Miguel! We need food!" I called out to the owner as I slid into the seat by the window. He nodded, waddling to the kitchen. Although I had little money, he trusted me to pay him later. He knew I was good for it. He knew a lot of things.

"Are you OK, Harry?" He called back to me in his heavy Spanish accent. "You don't look so good."

I held up a finger to signal that I was just feeling a little off. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. I didn’t want to share the news, if he didn’t know already, that I won. After all, it’s not like they wire the money to your account the moment victory occurs. I wanted to surprise him. I heard his footsteps on the tile floor as he walked back towards me. He was carrying a tray with four tacos and some bean and cheese nachos. My stomach grumbled louder than an ogre. Then I glimpsed the pickled jalapenos over the top, and my mouth started salivating.

"Here you go, pichon," he said, placing the tray in front of me. "I knew you must be hungry." A moment later he walked by with a soda, giving me a friendly smile as he left me to tear into the epic deliciousness.

I inhaled the first one faster than Usain Bolt. I was so hungry I didn't even feel the burn of the jalapenos, though it hardly mattered as I drank down the soda. I could practically feel my stomach acid activating as it started breaking down the food before it even made it to my stomach. My mouth watered as I reached for a second taco. It was amazing. It was the best thing I had ever tasted in my life. My brain almost wanted to make a deal with the devil to trade my soul for all the tacos in the world. By the time I got to the third one, I was feeling slightly better. More like me, anyway.

The soda, however, was still as refreshing as when I first opened it. I was sipping the coke slowly when a woman sat across from me suddenly. My heart skipped a beat as I let out a yelp and jumped back against the wall. She was dressed in a cute yellow blouse, hip-hugging jeans and white tennis shoes. Her black hair was short and curly. She had brown eyes and light skin. A bit of acne here and there on her cheeks, but nothing too bad.

"Hey," she said, giving me a smile then taking a look around. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, no," I stammered. I was not used to women sitting across from me, ever, random stranger or friend. She seemed around my age, maybe twenty-one. "The tacos are incredible," I said, nodding toward the owner. "That's where I got this coke from."

I only realized afterwards how lame that sounded.

"Hi, I'm Rebecca," she said. She held out her hand, and I shook it gently. It felt so small in my own.

"Harry," I said, and she gave me a small smile. Rebecca looked good, smiling. It reminded me of a photo I had of my sister when we were on a trip to the fair and she fell asleep on the ride home.

"So," I started. I didn't know what to say, but I had to say something. Anything. "Do you come here often?" That was lame too.

"Yeah, sort of,” she grinned at me. “That victory in the championship,” she said, whispering, “do you think you could do it for real?”

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"You know," she said. "Could you survive if you ended up in a real version of the game? Build a thriving kingdom with only an axe, from the most humble beginning in a forest, with nothing else but the clothes on your back?”

"I suppose," I said. "But the game doesn't really prepare you for everything."

She laughed. "No kidding. But maybe it's like anything else: you have to learn by doing it for real."

The girl raised an eyebrow, and a small twinkle formed in her eye as she saw something behind me.

"Oh my gosh," she said, feigning shock. "Is that a giant space clam?"

I looked over my shoulder and erupted into laughter. There was a colossal statue of a clam, in the shape of a spiral, about three times my height.

"It's a ramp," I said, as we both continued laughing. "For handicapped people."

Rebecca was bold enough to swipe my soda and take a long drink, then she asked me again. “You think you could win?”

"Yeah," I said. "At least, I think so. I won the championship, didn’t I?"

“Interesting,” Rebecca mulled. “You're a strange one, Harry.” Her dark brown eyes twinkled like liquid maple syrup, “Once more, do you think, if you started there with only an axe, you’d succeed?”

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe?"

"I think you would," Rebecca smiled so wide I thought her eyes might disappear. "I think you definitely would. I believe in you."

“Thanks,” I said, “I mean, I’m sure I could win if I had a woman like you cheering me on.” 

“Done,” she said, and Rebecca gave a little chuckle. “Good luck, Harry Lee. Welcome to Kingdom Conquest.”

"What do you mean?" I asked, suspicious and confused. Rebecca's laughter echoed in my ears as everything faded away. The restaurant, the booth, even my coke. They replaced everything with cold, white nothingness.

"Hello, Harry," a voice echoed. It's deep but also high-pitched and reminded me of an "elderly" voice effect that's often used for comical purposes. "My name is Flynn, and I will be your guide during your stay here in Kingdom Conquest."

"What is this place?" I ask. "Where am I?"

“Before we begin, please confirm to me your age,” the voice said. When I failed to speak, Flynn continued. “Twenty-one, excellent.”

"Why?"

"Because you are of age to enjoy Kingdom Conquest!" A new light came from the spiraling stone ramp, a golden glow that was so bright I couldn't look at it directly. When my eyes focused on the source of the new light, I saw a person standing in front of me. He wore regal clothes, covered with gold and studs. In his hand he held a staff that resembled a snake, made of gold and gems. His face was covered with a snake-resembling golden mask that contained two rubies to act as eyes. His skin was deathly pale, and his hair was an unusual white. He looked at me expectantly.

When I didn't answer, he spoke once more. "Well? Clap, dammit! CLAP!"

I clapped; it was the only polite thing to do when someone greeted you with a request for applause.

"Bravo," Flynn said, as the snake-headed staff in his hands glowed. "You just earned one achievement, 'The First Clap.' Now let me show you something truly incredible."

I heard an unfamiliar noise, something I hadn't heard in the prior twenty-one years of my life; rolling dice. I tilted my head to see six dragon-shaped dice rolling and flying above us, leaving a trail of numbers and symbols in their wake. "What's this?" I asked.

"Your statistics," Flynn said. "Names, talents, skills, abilities, everything about your character is defined by these six dice. Study them closely to find out everything you need to know about your character."

The dice flew around Flynn's staff, then slowed down until they stopped, suspended in midair. Flynn grabbed them with his free hand and held them out to me, as if offering them to me.

"What do I do?" I asked, cautiously reaching out for the dice. My hand shook as it hovered over the rolling dice, unsure of which one to grab.

"Grab one," Flynn said. I did so, and he took the dice from my hand. He then looked at it, nodding with approval. "You've got a lot of luck, that's for sure. All sixes. Let's see what you can do with it."

"So I got max scores across the board?" When Flynn nodded, I gave him a fist bump. He returned it as awkward as I had when I clapped for his entrance. "What's next?"

Suddenly, the walls changed. No longer was there hard, cold stone beneath a layer of dirt and roots. Instead, there were wooden walls surrounding us, freshly built and with no kind of distinguishing features besides the fact that they were made of fresh, rough planks. The ground was still there, only now a simple rough wooden floor that matched the walls. There was only dim light coming from the doorway shaped entrance to the small, simple cabin. It was missing the actual door and was only a cutout in the rough wall.

"Whoa!" I say in awe, turning in a circle to take everything in. "What is this place?"

"Your Claim." Flynn said. He walked over to a nearby bookshelf, curving out of the wall like it grew there naturally. He ran his hand across the spines of the books, sometimes flicking off dust that had collected there or tracing the pattern on the binding. Finally, he picked one out and handed it to me. It was a worn, used book. The pages were coming undone, and the cover had fallen off. Still, I took it from him and raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"It's yours," Flynn says. "The first of many."

I opened the front cover to see that there was writing inside I could read.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

Property of Harry Lee Reborn, Town Creation.

"What...?" I asked, before I heard a horn go off outside. Flynn shoved the book into my hands and then strode over to the doorway.

"That's my cue, lad!" he said with a smile. "Later!" He walked out of the room, leaving me there alone. I flicked my gaze to the bookshelf, and the selection of ancient tomes had disappeared. 

An axe lay on the ground where the bookshelf had been, and for the first time, I noticed my clothes had changed. They now dressed me in medieval clothing, rough spun tunic and a leather jerkin. I was also wearing a holster on my belt, just the right size for the axe.

“What happened,” I muttered, before I guessed what Rebecca had done. She asked me if I thought I could win for real, I considered. “Now I’m here,” I said, picking up the axe. “Time to build a kingdom.”

I named my humble abode Forest Creation, after the fine wooden cabin I started with. I set about clearing out the area around my home, felling trees with my axe and dragging them away to a central pile. While I worked, I noticed this place had the same blue sky, single sun and similar trees as Earth. However, I knew this wasn’t my home planet anymore.

My hands, arms and shoulders aches after an hour of hard work. There was a stream nearby, and I washed up and quenched my thirst. Stomach grumbling, I realized I had no idea how to hunt, or find edible forage. I knew I couldn't rely on hunting alone, so I had to plant seeds. Trouble was, I had none.

I spent all my time working on Forest Creation. It had a stream with fish and fresh water close by, and an ample amount of trees for firewood and building. I welcomed the challenge of making it bigger and better, but there was one major problem: I was alone.

The Town Creation manual given to me by Flynn was a big help. Within those pages, I learned how to forage, and after reading, discovered enough wild plants to eat well enough I had no risk of starvation. I also went hunting, and killed a boar, skinned it, and brought it home to feast on its meat. The foraging and hunting kept me well fed, and I even grew fond of the work as time went on. That first week, I found out how lucky I was my attributes were all maxed out. I worked for hours on end, bringing down trees and hauling them away, foraging, and attempting to carve the trees up into useful items.

It was during that first week I had my very first visitor. A short man with a thick black beard and wearing leather armor emerged from the trees, noting my cabin. He froze when he saw me and raised his hands. "Stay calm. I'm not here to harm you."

"Who are you?" I asked, keeping my axe in my hand.

"I am Tylir. I’m a hunter from the village of Waterbridge," he said. I noticed he had a bow and a quiver of arrows on his back. "I'm very disappointed I never received a word of you living out here. Let alone who you are and what you're doing here."

"Well, you have word of my arrival now," I said. "You can take it back to whoever needs to know that this place is now claimed by me."

"What?" he asked. "You can't just claim this land. It belongs to no one."

"Yeah, well, I'm claiming it, anyway."

He sighed and looked at me. "Look, I've heard about you humans. You love to fight. So let's settle this with a good old duel. Just you and me. Whatever the outcome, my fellows will leave your lands alone."

"Are you sure that's wise?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "You're sure fighting me is a good idea?" Inside, I was sweating. I’d never ever been in a real life fight before, much less one with weapons where I might die.

"This won't end well for you," he snarled.

I stood my ground and raised my axe, gripping it in two hands. He drew his sword and charged at me. He swung his blade down as I blocked it with my axe, the force of which nearly caused me to drop it. He kicked me in the nuts and I fell to my knees, groaning. He lifted his sword again, but before he could swing, I bashed his shin with my axe handle, making him yelp and drop to a knee. He was still holding his sword, so I grabbed his wrist with one hand, and hit him in the face with my axe handle repeatedly. I smashed his nose into a bloody mess, splattering blood all over me. I bashed his head into the hard earth until he was unconscious. I took his sword and made sure it was well out of his reach. Then, I tied him up with plants I found which had a springy, tough fiber. The brown earthen roots were difficult to fashion into restraints, but I made do.

"There. Now I've defended my home," I said with a smile.

On his person, I found a few silver coins, a couple of gems, and some gold. I took it all as my reward for my victory. Tylir didn't wake up for at least two hours. When he did, I showed him all his stuff and told him the rules.

"You can go now," I said. "But if you ever come back uninvited, I'll smash your head in."

He nodded, and I untied him. Tylir gave me a grimace, but dipped his head with respect. “You fought well, for a strange human,” he said. “If you ever travel, my village is a few days’ hike through the forest,” he gave a nod to the east. “It’s that direction.” He turned and left without another word.

I watched him leave, then went inside to stash the valuables I claimed. I didn't expect him to be so friendly after I released him. Our interaction, while rough at the start, gave me hope not everybody would want to fight to the death rather than have a pleasant conversation.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning blood and dirt from my clothes at the stream. I returned to a hot meal of roasted boar and some vegetables I scavenged. I looked forward to exploring the wilderness near my land. While I explored, I hoped I might find more friendly locals.

With a belly full of food, I went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up and had a nice breakfast. I planned on setting off into the wilderness that afternoon. First, I trained with my axe for an hour or two, before Tylir showed up.

"Hey, human! Troll's bridge half a day's walk from here," he said. "You go there, you fight them for coin."

"What, are you, my agent?" I asked.

"Yeah... You going to head over now?” The black bearded man appeared fully recovered from the beating I gave him. I considered the offer for a moment, and I got a sincere vibe from the fellow I thought I could trust.

"Are you going to bet on me to win?" I asked him, my dark-eyed gaze intent on his round, bearded face.

"Yeah, sure. Many people are already gathered there; it's the biggest event of the season! You'll win for sure! I'll go place your bet right now!" The man bounced on his feet, eager to go.

I grabbed my pack and axe and followed behind him. The pack was previously Tylir’s pack until I beat him.

The walk through the forest took only five hours to arrive at the tiny village. Troll’s Bridge was the place they held the contests of physical might. They had a small bridge that went over a wide, but shallow river. 

My companion told me trolls were known to inhabit the area, and the village relied on it for water, so it needed to be guarded. Trolls are fearsome creatures, but they have a reputation of being slow and dim-witted. That reputation is not exactly true. They might not be the brightest creatures, but they can still be fairly cunning. A single troll could easily rip a man in half and bathe in his blood.

"Okay, how does this contest work? Who will I be fighting?" I surveyed the couple dozen people gathered around, many with mugs of what smelled like cheap beer.

"The champion will be out soon. If you win, you'll get a lot of money," a random male villager responded as they all formed a large circle, with me in the middle. The sun was getting warmer on my skin, and Tylir helpfully reappeared, only to grab my axe.

“It’s a hand to hand fight,” he said.

“What?” I asked, shocked.

People continued to place bets and talk among themselves for another three minutes before something happened. A single, massive figure dressed in what looked like animal hides and fur walked out with hands the size of watermelons. He had a large beard and mustache, and looked like an older Neanderthal. The villagers, including Tylir, backed away from the two of us.

"Are you ready?" an official-looking man holding a drum and wearing nicer, cleaner tunic and breeches than most of the other villagers asked.

I didn't answer right away, mainly because I was busy looking over my opponent and thinking about how to beat him. The man probably weighed three times as much as me and was probably more muscular than anyone I'd ever seen.

"Answer him, please," the official asked again, this time in a nervous tone.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm ready," I responded.

The man nodded and started the drum beat.

I did nothing but stand in front of the large man, hoping he'd make the first move. Although I was tempted to attack right away, I knew that would be suicide. I had to wait for him to make a mistake, and he eventually did.

The large man lunged with surprising speed, given his girth and weight. He aimed a punch straight at my head. It was so easy to dodge the attack that it looked like he was dancing. I could see it all, his massive weight making it hard to change directions fast, his enormous feet making slight slips on the soil and grass with every move. The man was a lumbering giant, and that was his weakness.

I ducked under a wild swing and avoided a glancing blow to my head. I stepped closer and brought my fist into his abdomen. It felt like punching a brick wall, but I knew I'd still feel it later. He hunched over slightly, and I leaped out of the way of a swing that would've taken off my legs at the knees. He stumbled forward and turned around. I was already in mid-air when I drove an elbow into the back of his neck.

I landed and skidded a few feet away, my feet not exactly under me. The large man was hunched over even more now, and I knew I had to take advantage before he could fully recover. I ran forward and launched myself airborne with every bit of strength my legs could muster. I crashed, rather than landed, into the large man's back. We both fell to the ground in a heap. Luckily, I was on the top. The unlucky, for him, part was that I had grabbed both of his arms and pulled them back in such a way that he couldn't get any leverage to free himself, let alone push me off or turn over.

He grabbed my arms and tried to pull, but there was no give in mine. I knew from experience that I could hold this grip for hours before it tired me. It would tire him out much faster.

He wound up his legs to kick me away, but I just leaned back a bit and kept my grip. He couldn't get close enough to bite me, which was his next plan. I avoided his snapping jaws and then finally got my leg into position. 

Still holding his arms, I kicked the back of his head into the ground. My opponent was out cold. When I stood up, swaying on my feet and dizzy, the villagers cheered and the drum stopped.

"I'll be damned. He actually did it," someone said.

The official ran up and gave me a scroll. I unrolled it to find that it was a special parchment that had no writing on it. It was just a blank roll of parchment. I looked at the man and then at the scroll.

"Thanks," I said, "but what is this? It's blank."

"It's a reward. Blank scrolls can come in handy. Also, you’ll get the prize money of thirty silver. No one has ever beaten him before. Good job!” He said with a gigantic smile.

The villagers clapped and whistled. I went to sit down and rest while everyone congratulated me. They eventually carried the large man away, after waking him up of course, and I grinned when Tylir approached, carrying a leather sack, apparently full of coins from his wagers.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" He asked, handing me the sack.

I peeked inside to find thirty silver coins. His side bets had earned me the same as the prize. Minus the blank scroll, of course. I handed the bag back to him.

"... Thanks," I said.

"What are friends for?" He smiled.

He was about to leave, but I stopped him.

"Hey Tylir?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't this bother you? How much money I just won?"

He thought for a moment before shrugging.