Alec Gray wasn't a king. Not in the real world, at least.
In the real world, he was twenty-three, lived in a cramped apartment above a laundromat in Philadelphia, and juggled two part-time jobs to scrape by. He wasn't anyone special—just another American caught in the gap between surviving and living. A ghost in the system. A quiet guy with no college degree, no fancy resume, and no one waiting for him at home. He had cheap ramen on the shelf, a beat-up gaming chair, and a desktop cobbled together from secondhand parts.
But in Kingdom Eternal, Alec was different.
In the game, he was Lord Greyveil, Sovereign of the Obsidian Banner. His empire had stood for nearly two years. Efficient. Disciplined. Unyielding. He wasn't the strongest player by raw numbers, but his strategies—his systems—had made him a force that even alliances feared. Every citizen in his virtual world had a place. Every building served a purpose. Every war was calculated.
Tonight, that empire was dying.
He leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen as twenty allied factions pushed into his last stronghold. Messages poured in—some mocking, some praising. He ignored them all. His generals fell one by one. His soldiers crumbled. His cities burned.
And finally, with one last flaming siege tower breaching the wall, the Obsidian Banner fell.
Alec sat in silence. The hum of his PC fans and the soft tap of his fingers falling away from the keyboard were the only sounds in the room. His heart thumped. Not with anger—but with something colder. Emptiness. He had spent years building something… and it was gone in minutes.
He muttered under his breath, "Figures."
And then it happened.
A sharp pop cracked through the air. Sparks flew from his PC tower. Alec jumped to his feet—but it was too late. The screen went white. The air grew thick and electric. Something burst, a flash of blue light flaring across the room—and the world disappeared.
When Alec opened his eyes, everything was wrong.
He wasn't in his apartment. He wasn't on his bed or lying on the floor. He was sitting… on a throne. Not a gamer's chair. A real throne.
The seat beneath him was cold black stone, smooth like polished obsidian, and wide enough to fit three men. Strange symbols—lines and circles he didn't recognize—glowed faintly along the arms. Behind the throne, jagged pillars reached toward a sky so dark it shimmered with stars. Not stars. Floating crystals. Dozens of them, suspended like lanterns in the void above.
And then Alec looked down at his hands.
They weren't hands anymore.
Scales. Black, ash-gray scales covered his arms. His fingertips had hardened into claws. His breath fogged the air, and when he shifted, he felt… different. Stronger. Taller. And when he saw his reflection faintly cast in the floor's glass-like surface, he froze.
His face was still his. Barely.
Golden eyes. Faintly glowing. A line of silver markings curved along the sides of his face, like tattoos or scars. His ears were slightly pointed. His teeth—sharper. And the longer he stared, the more alien he looked.
Then it hit him.
I'm not human anymore.
Before he could process anything else, a loud ding echoed in his mind.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING…]
[User Confirmed: Alec Gray]
[Status: Transmigrated Host Body Detected]
[Initializing: Empire-Building Core]
[Welcome, Supreme Monarch.]
[You have been chosen to rebuild the Monster Empire.]
[Binding Bloodline Loyalty: Successful]
[Founding Nobility Summoning Protocol: Engaged]
[Summoning in 12 hours…]
Empire Overview:
Capital City: Kharaz-Tor (Ruins)
Citizens: 0
Infrastructure: Crumbling
Loyalty: Dormant
Resources: 0
Primary Objectives:
• Rebuild Civilization
• Restore Order and Dignity
• Expand Across Planes
• Rule with Honor
Alec blinked. The glowing text hovered in front of his vision, semi-transparent, with smooth gold borders like a sleek HUD. The layout reminded him of a strategy game—but there were no buttons. It responded to his thoughts.
He stood from the throne. His new body moved effortlessly—taller, broader, more agile. He walked forward, past the towering hall of broken pillars and crumbled monster statues, until he reached the open edge of a shattered balcony.
What he saw took his breath away.
Kharaz-Tor—once a thriving capital—was in ruins. A canyon city carved into stone, its walls lined with shattered homes, rusted war banners, and dried canals that once carried clean water. Smoke curled from broken chimneys. Crumbling towers leaned against each other like old bones. And far above, floating in the sky, tethered by shimmering silver chains, was an island.
Not just an island—a fortress. Castles of black iron and pale gold stood proudly on the floating landmass, silent and waiting. That… was the seat of his high command.
[You are the Last Monarch.]
[Begin Restoration? Y/N]
Alec stared at the screen.
Back on Earth, he was just another guy trying to stay afloat. Just another nobody with too much heart and not enough help. But here?
Here, he had a chance to build something real. A society where even monsters had dignity. Where goblins had schools. Where dragons paid taxes. Where trolls got dental.
He chuckled. "Yeah," he said aloud, a small grin creeping across his face. "We're gonna do this right."
He mentally selected [Y].
The ground trembled beneath his feet. Magic surged through the throne room. Deep below, old gears turned. Ancient conduits lit up like veins awakening from slumber. And somewhere, far away in the dead city, a horn blew—a deep, guttural sound that echoed across stone and sky.
The Monster Empire had taken its first breath.