Adrian felt an unexplainable urge guiding him toward the tower in the distance, as if some unseen force called him forward, compelling him to reach its peak.

As he drew closer, he saw a solitary throne at the tower's summit. There was a strange longing in his heart, an impulse whispering that this throne was meant for him. With each step, his desire grew, and soon he found himself standing at the base of the tower, gazing up.

The structure was tall and ancient, split evenly into nine levels, each one adding to the tower's imposing height. The door to the first floor stood open, almost welcoming him in.

Without hesitation, Adrian stepped inside.

The first floor was bare, save for a single wooden chair in the centre of the room. The emptiness didn't surprise him; somehow, he knew what to expect. Instead of rushing to sit, he cast his gaze toward the staircase leading upward on the far side of the room.

"Only nine floors," he thought, "I'll reach the top in no time."

But when he tried to ascend, an invisible force stopped him in his tracks. He pushed forward, yet he couldn't move a single step up.

"Just as I thought..." he muttered, slightly disappointed but not entirely surprised. He had sensed there'd be a test of some kind. Whatever it was, it began here.

Exhaling, Adrian turned his attention back to the wooden chair in the middle of the hall. Though plain, the chair seemed to hold a quiet power. He walked over and sat down.

In an instant, his vision filled with blinding light, which quickly faded to reveal an old-fashioned, parchment-like interface hovering before him.

The design was ancient, its scroll-like appearance filled with intricate images—buildings of various races: a human temple, a demonic Void, a necropolis, the orc tribes, the elven world tree, the dwarven forge, and the earthbound city. Each represented a different faction from Empire Maker, the game from the mysterious memories that had haunted him.

Beneath the images, words appeared:

—Please select a racial power—

Without a second thought, Adrian chose the Void faction. "Imagine controlling demons as my own personal army," he thought with a grin. "That'll come in handy."

But as soon as he selected it, the interface reset with the same message:

—Please select a racial power—

"What's going on?" he thought, frowning. "A bug?" He shrugged, trying another choice. He picked humans this time, then confirmed.

—The player has chosen the Templar Power.—

—Please select a racial power—

The interface reset again. Undeterred, Adrian clicked through each race, one by one. Finally, on his seventh choice, the interface stopped looping and issued a new message.

—The player has selected the Void faction. You have unlocked the core building: [Bottomless Void]. Please choose a territory to build—

—The player has selected the Templar faction. You have unlocked the core building: [Citadel]. Please choose a territory to build—

And so on for each of the seven factions, each granting him a free core building.

A wide grin spread across Adrian's face. "This must be one of the perks of the private server version," he thought, remembering a term from the memories passed to him by the "evil spirits." While he didn't fully understand what a private server was, he knew it meant he could develop all seven factions at once—a stroke of luck.

Excited, he browsed through the options for building his empire. But a new problem arose: he needed territory to place his structures.

When he attempted to build his first structure, the interface notified him:

—Error: Player does not have sufficient territory to build [Citadel]. Please acquire a territory—

Adrian scowled, frustration twisting his expression. In Empire Maker players started with a piece of land. But in this world, he had no official claim to any territory. Without it, the buildings were useless.

"Land... land... where can I get land?" he thought, pacing. His mind raced through options until he remembered something: "Windrise Island."

The Windrise Island was a small, isolated land mass near the coast. The climate was rough, and it held little value for trade or agriculture. Its owner, a halfling merchant named Leonardo, often complained about the island being his worst investment. If anyone would sell for a bargain, it would be Leonardo.

Adrian calculated his finances. As a mercenary leader, he'd saved a decent amount over the years. While he wasn't wealthy, he had enough to afford a worthless island like Windrise. And an isolated island would be perfect for training troops and building a stronghold without drawing attention.

Almost ready to act, Adrian forced himself to pause. He knew he needed to handle things with the Shadowborn Mercenaries before setting out. The game interface alone wasn't enough; he'd need men to defend and build his empire, and the best place to find them was in his own ranks.

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The Shadowborn Mercenaries had over two hundred soldiers, many loyal to him. They were strong, skilled in battle, and experienced—all critical for establishing a new land. But he'd first need to deal with Shadowborn Caius and the tensions within the group before recruiting anyone.

The thought of returning to the mercenary camp made his mood sour. The two days of sickness had ruined his chance to capitalize on his raid and solidify his position. He could feel Caius watching his every move, ready to retaliate at the slightest misstep.

Before he could take back control of the mercenary group, he'd need a strategic advantage. "Luckily," he thought, turning back to the game interface, "I've got a few tricks now." His gaze fell on a new option that had appeared in the corner:

—[Hero Panel]—

Adrian opened the [Hero Panel] interface, and a wide array of hero templates appeared before him, making his eyes widen with excitement.

In the private server version of "Empire Maker", novice players were allowed to select any hero template—even the rare ones. But as he browsed, he noticed that most of the templates were greyed out and unavailable.

Curious, he clicked on one of the locked options, the [Monarch of the Fire Devil]. A message appeared instantly:

—The player's bloodline does not match. The [Monarch of the Fire Devil] template cannot be selected—

Each hero template required a specific bloodline, which typically wasn't an issue for most players. They could choose their race and lineage when starting the game, allowing them to match their desired template's requirements. But Adrian had no such choice—he was half-human, half-elf, a blend that limited his options significantly.

Elves, demons, dwarves, and those from the earthbound city—all of those options were barred from him. Even some of the human and elf templates were locked, like the [Spirit Magician] and [High Priest]. Frustrated, Adrian threw his hands up in the air. "Racist system!"

Still, he sifted through the templates to see what was left. Of the hundreds, only around thirty templates remained open to him. He scanned the options, eliminating ordinary templates like [Barbarian] and [Alchemist]. After much deliberation, he narrowed it down to two final choices: [Monarch of Vigour] and [Enraged Magus].

The [Monarch of Vigour] template would make him an unstoppable force on the battlefield, making him nearly invincible in Revernus Town. The description alone made Adrian's mouth water—he could see himself as the strongest fighter in town, a "human titan" of raw power.

But after a moment's hesitation, Adrian chose the second option: the [Enraged Magus]. It wasn't an easy choice, but he couldn't resist the allure of magic.

As a battle mage who could only use self-enhancement magic, he couldn't ignore the power and prestige that magic held in the world of Mythilic. Wizards, sorcerers, and warlocks commanded respect and fear, wielding power that surpassed brute strength. Besides, the [Enraged Magus] was the only template he had access to that allowed spellcasting—a rare opportunity he wasn't about to pass up.

"I'll be a mage—even a wild one—as long as I'm a mage," he muttered, quoting a legendary caster he'd once heard of.

With a sense of finality, Adrian made his selection. A new character interface opened, and a detailed 3D model of himself appeared alongside his stats:

—Name—: Adrian Eternus

—Hero Template—: Enraged Magus

—Combat Class—: Battle Mage

—Hero Level—: 1 "Upgrade your territory to increase hero level"

—Personal Level—: 5 "You are a capable fighter"

—Strength—: 19 "You could wrestle a mammoth"

—Agility—: 13 "You move with the speed of a seasoned thief"

—Constitution—: 17 "You are disease-resistant and resilient"

—Intelligence—: 9 "A bit duller than average, far from an idiot"

—Perception—: 17 "You sense even the faintest shifts in your surroundings"

—Charisma—: 17 "People either admire or fear you, but no one ignores you"

—Mana—: 37

—Traits—

—Innate Strength (Personal Trait)—

grants you natural power. +2 Strength, +2 Constitution

—Fearsome Reputation (Personal Trait)—

You've earned the title "Shadow Blade" +2 Charisma in the Kruger region

—Enraged (Class Trait)—

When enraged, your Strength and Constitution rise. Afterwards, you experience fatigue.

—Lordship (Lord Trait)—

As a leader, your Charisma increases. +5 Charisma

—Enraged Mana (Hero Trait)—

Your mana derives from Strength and Perception instead of Intelligence, at the cost of limiting Intelligence-based mana gains. +2 Strength, +2 Perception

—Enraged Cry (Hero Trait)— In battle, you can release spells through a war cry at double mana cost.

—Basic Rage (Hero Trait)— Hitting or being hit builds your rage, enhancing your defence and damage.

—Spell List—

—Level 1 spells (3 mana)—

Intimidation, Furious Missile, Strength Buff, Stamina Buff, Speed Buff

Adrian's grin faded as he saw his Intelligence score. "You're telling me I'm below average? What a load of rubbish!"

But intelligence here referred more to a caster's ability to understand complex spell structures than to street smarts. And though he'd never admit it, casting magic wasn't his natural talent. But thankfully, the "Enraged Magus" template didn't rely on high Intelligence. This template, in a rare twist, allowed spellcasting through strength and perception—a perfect fit for Adrian's raw physicality.

With his current mana, Adrian could cast a dozen spells before running dry—more than enough to dominate most lower-tier mages in Mythilic. Just knowing he had that kind of power made him feel unstoppable. After choosing the template, Adrian's raw combat power was leagues beyond what it had been.

"Caius won't know what hit him", he thought, full of confidence. "Let's see how long he stays on top".

Adrian noticed two icons at the bottom right of the game interface:

—[Exit Game]—

which was greyed out, and

—[Minimise Game]—

He clicked on Minimise Game and in an instant, the interface shrank away. Darkness enveloped him briefly, and then he found himself back in the shaman's hut, staring at the ceiling.

Above him, old Rheas held a thick black needle, preparing to jab it into Adrian's head.

Startled, Rheas hesitated when he noticed Adrian awake. "Little Adrian, your body hasn't fully recovered yet—"

"Out of my way, Rheas, I don't have time for you!" Adrian barked, pushing the shaman aside. He had a score to settle.

Bursting out of the hut, he spotted Leo waiting for him outside.

"What are you still doing here?" Adrian snapped. "Didn't I tell you to gather the others?"

Leo jolted to attention, stammering, "They're ready, boss. Milan and Zig have the men prepared and waiting."

"Good," Adrian replied with a smirk. "Tell them we're heading to the mercenaries' warehouse. I'll meet you there."

Leo's eyes widened. "You're going in person?"

"Of course. Kuro's life is on the line." Adrian's voice hardened. "And Tyro... he wouldn't dare stand in my way."

"But... they have numbers..."

Adrian shot him a fierce look. "You doubt me?"

"No, boss. I wouldn't dare."

"Then move!" Adrian ordered.

As Leo sprinted off, Adrian drew his long, narrow blade and began walking toward Revernus Town, wiping the remnants of dark blood from its edge as he went. Behind him, Rheas watched from his doorway, murmuring to himself, "Seems like Revernus is about to be shaken to its core…”