The first thing Darius felt was the dampness.

His senses flickered to life like a candle struggling against a wind, and he found himself sprawled in a bed of moss and wet leaves. The world smelled earthy, fresh, and... wrong. His head throbbed with a dull ache, like a drum being struck by a hammer.

He sat up, his hands pushing against the forest floor. Tall trees loomed around him, their gnarled roots twisted like ancient veins, their leaves whispering secrets he didn’t understand. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp soil. The forest stretched on endlessly in every direction. There were no roads, no paths, no signs of civilization.

Where... where was he?

Darius’ mind swirled in confusion. His memories were foggy, distant, like the fading remnants of a dream. He couldn’t recall how he got here, or—more importantly—who he was. His name… he had to remember his name.

"Darius…" he whispered to himself, testing the sound of the word in his mouth. Yes. That was right. Darius. But it felt like the name belonged to someone else.

His body moved instinctively, pushing through the haze of his thoughts. He stood up, dusting off his worn clothes—a strange blend of robes and armor—before he noticed something that made his blood run cold.

A strange, golden light pulsated before him, hovering in the air. It shimmered, as if it had been waiting for him to notice. With a mixture of reluctance and curiosity, Darius reached out, and the light instantly engulfed his hand.

Welcome, Darius of the Forgotten Realm, a voice—soft, ethereal, and almost familiar—spoke directly into his mind. You have been chosen.

The words echoed in his skull, their meaning clear but unsettling.

Chosen? Darius tried to pull his hand back, but the light tightened around his wrist like a vice. Panic crept up his spine, but there was no time to react.

Your journey begins now, the voice continued, unfazed by his inner turmoil. The Kingdom-Building System has been activated. Your task: Build your empire from nothing. Let your ambition carve the path to glory. And remember... all things are connected. One decision can change everything.

The light flashed brightly, and then vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Darius stood frozen, staring at his empty hand. What… was that? Was this some sort of dream? A cruel trick?

A faint, swirling mark had appeared on the back of his palm—glowing faintly like the remnants of a firefly. It looked like a sigil, intricate and detailed, but he couldn’t make sense of its meaning.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Build an empire... from nothing?

The absurdity of it all made him laugh—a hollow, empty laugh that reverberated through the silent forest. What was he supposed to do with this ridiculous task? He had no army, no money, no resources—just a forgotten forest, an ominous symbol, and a task so vague it bordered on impossible.

As he scanned the forest again, his gaze was drawn to something just beyond the treeline. A patch of sunlight streamed through the branches, illuminating a small clearing where a tiny, crooked shack stood. It looked like the kind of place a hermit might build—a ramshackle home made of mismatched timber, with a slanted roof that seemed to have defied logic in its construction.

“Is that… a house?” Darius muttered to himself. “Maybe the gods are being more literal than I thought.”

With a deep breath, he decided to approach. At the very least, this could be the first step. He could start by figuring out where this strange world even was, and maybe someone in that shack would have answers.

As he walked, the silence of the forest pressed in on him. Each step was hesitant, the crunch of the leaves beneath his boots sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. The trees around him seemed to lean closer, their branches stretching out as though they were fingers reaching for him. He shivered involuntarily.

He reached the shack, and just as he was about to knock on the crooked wooden door, he heard it.

A voice. Faint at first, barely a whisper.

Do not reveal your power...

It was so quiet, so fleeting, that Darius almost thought it was just his imagination. But there was no denying the cold shiver that ran down his spine at those words.

He pressed his hand against the door, pushing it open.

The interior was sparse—nothing more than a few wooden shelves, a small firepit, and an old man sitting by the hearth, staring into the flames. He didn’t seem surprised by Darius’ arrival. Instead, his dull eyes met Darius’ gaze with an almost knowing expression.

"Ah... you're here," the old man rasped, his voice thick with age. "I thought they'd send you. You’ve got the mark, don’t you?"

Darius stared at the old man. "The mark?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

The old man nodded slowly. “You’ve been chosen, just like the rest. To build, to create, to destroy... You have your work cut out for you, boy.”

Darius’ mind reeled. “Work? But I—what’s going on? Where am I? What is this place?”

The old man chuckled, his wheezing laugh like the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. “This is the world of Ythara, young one. And you, like so many others, have been thrust into the game. The Kingdom-Building System will guide you… but beware. Not all who are chosen make it to the end.”

“What end?” Darius asked, confusion boiling over into frustration.

“The end of this… game. The true purpose of the system. But it’s not something you’ll understand yet. You’re not ready." The old man’s smile faded. “Take my advice, lad. Keep your head down. Build your empire, but stay hidden. Don’t let anyone know your strength, or they’ll come for you. And remember… trust no one. Not even your allies.”

Darius opened his mouth to speak, but the old man raised a hand, silencing him.

"Good luck, Darius," he said, his voice growing faint. "You'll need it."

Before Darius could question him further, the old man was already gone—vanished into thin air like smoke caught in the wind.

His heart raced as he stood alone in the empty shack. His mind buzzed with uncertainty, but there was one thing he knew for sure: the world had changed, and so had he.

His journey had begun.