Pitch black. No sound. No sensation.
Then... something rushed torrentially into Arven's head. Like millions of shards of glass shimmering.
The sound of a collision. Sirens. A body being thrown.
Then, darkness.
When the light returned, what he saw wasn't an ICU or the neon lights of a hospital, but a cracked wooden ceiling with a small candle flickering weakly in the corner of the room.
Arven's eyelids twitched. His body felt heavy. His face was hot.
"Come on, son... open your eyes."The voice of a middle-aged man sounded desperate. A disheveled brown beard, a face full of worry lines. His hands held Arven's tightly, as if afraid to lose him.
Arven tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse.
"Wh... who...?"
The man jolted. "You don't recognize your own father? I'm Henrick, Baron of Oakridge! You fell yesterday and had a high fever!"
Baron? Oakridge?
Those were names he had never heard.
A woman entered carrying a damp cloth. Her brown hair was untied, her face pale, her eyes tired yet warm.
"Arven... you're truly strong," she said, wiping his forehead. "Don't talk too much for now."
Arven froze. Arven. The name felt both alien and familiar.
As if the name belonged to him... but to someone else.
I... died.
And now... I'm truly in another world?
A sudden pain hit his head—like a hammer smashing memories.
Images of this family. Oakridge village. Fragile wooden buildings. An empty tax warehouse. Starving farmers.
Everything came together like a fast-forwarding video recording.
Then, a map.
A large map sprawled in his memory, as if he had studied it for years.
A single continent, a large landmass named Eudoria.In the past, this continent was filled only with monsters. No humans.
Until the First Emperor came from a distant continent, conquered the monsters, and founded a single kingdom:
The Alvanian Empire.
The four directions of the empire were managed by high-ranking nobles:
North - led by a Duke who guarded the frozen monster forests.
West - led by a Duke who guarded the sea trade routes.
South - led by a Duke who secured the dangerous deserts and was also the main food producer.
And the East...
The memory was dark. Shattered. Unstable.
In the East, there was no Duke.
Nobles undermined each other, fighting over land, corrupt with taxes, and monster incursions seeped in from the eastern coast. Wheat prices soared. Farmers were poor.
The region was dying.
Where Arven's family was located.
Arven took a heavy breath. It all came so fast, so clearly.
As he tried to get up, dizziness assaulted him. Instantly, his face paled.
Henrick held him back. "Slowly. You had a fever all night."
Arven forced himself to sit up.
And at that moment, another memory emerged: numbers, simple graphs, crop rotation, ways to save irrigation water.
Memories from his previous self.
I... can use modern knowledge here.
In the afternoon, Arven woke from his second long sleep. His body was more stable. He stared at the bowl of water on the table, then was startled. In the reflection, he saw a teenager about fifteen years old. Messy black hair, soft gray eyes, yet with a fire within them.
"Arven," his mother said softly, "don't think too much. You just got sick."
Arven nodded slightly. "Mother... I want to see the village."
Henrick hesitated, but finally agreed.
Outside, the air was humid. Oakridge village looked bleak. The wheat fields were beginning to yellow unhealthily, the livestock were thin, and the village children stared with sunken eyes.
A farmer greeted him, bowing. "Young master... are you well now?"
Arven only responded with a faint smile. But his mind was working quickly.
Poor irrigation.
Soil lacking nutrients.
No crop rotation.
And from a distance... a thick black line like smoke. Arven narrowed his eyes.
Traces of monsters that had breached the village fence.
He suddenly felt a faint magical vibration in his body. Then a mental notification sound echoed like a chime:
[Skill Detected: Minor Object Summoning]
Level: 1
Mana: 12/100
Arven was shocked.
Summoning...? Can I summon something?
He tried to focus, and a small light formed... a small kitchen knife appeared in his hand.
Henrick was startled. "Arven! Where did you summon that from?"
Arven averted his gaze, lying quickly, "A small knife from my old pocket. I forgot."
He hid it. His breath was ragged. His mana immediately plummeted to 1/100.
Damn... my mana is minimal. I can only summon small objects.
But... this is very useful for spying, farming tools, logistics...
The long-term potential was huge.
But now? Not combat-worthy. His mana was too low.
Dusk fell. When they returned, Arven asked for scraps of cloth, charcoal, and a wooden board. He began drawing an irrigation scheme.
Henrick watched in confusion. "Are you... doodling?"Arven pointed to the small river. "If we build a waterwheel, the flow can enter the fields without the farmers having to exert themselves all day."
His mother covered her mouth. "We... never thought of that."
Arven added drawings of small beans between the wheat plants. "This is crop rotation. Beans will restore nutrients."
Henrick tapped the table. "But the families in the East won't care. They're busy undermining each other."
Arven's memory stung.
The East was the most corrupt part. No Duke.
Nobles preyed on each other. Food prices rose because monsters destroyed the land.
The central palace turned a blind eye because the East didn't threaten the throne.
The worst place to grow up.
Arven slowly clenched his fist.
"Father, we won't wait for them. We'll start from our own village."
Henrick fell silent. His eyes trembled.
A few days passed. The waterwheel was finished. Farmers started planting beans. Livestock manure was processed into fertilizer.
Green sprouts began to reappear. A little. But real.
However, not long after, the sound of hoofbeats was heard. Lord Feran and his troops arrived, dressed luxuriously, faces arrogant.
"Henrick!" he shouted. "Your taxes are late. Again."
Henrick trembled. "Our warehouse—"
"—A classic excuse." Feran smiled sinisterly. "I can take Oakridge anytime."
Arven stepped forward. His voice was calm.
"Lord Feran, in three months our wheat production will increase. The taxes will be paid in full."
Feran raised an eyebrow. "And this brat guarantees that?"
Arven retorted sharply. "If I fail... just take this territory. But if I succeed, don't bother our people again."
Henrick almost fainted.The entourage laughed.
"Three months," Feran said slyly. "If you fail, you will lose everything."
They left, mocking.
Arven watched their backs.
Fine. Let's begin.
That night, after a village meeting, Arven went up to his room. His breath was short, his body tired. But as he lay down:
[World Memory Unlocked]
It was as if a door opened in his mind:
・Another continent across the ocean, very far away
・That continent was still wild, filled with monsters
The First Emperor conquered this continent from there
・Ancient gates in the East sometimes opened and monsters slipped through
That's why the East was hit by monster raids and food prices rose.
Arven rubbed his head.
These memories felt like inherited data from Arven's previous body.
Then a page of memory appeared: the noble structure.
・Emperor
・Three Dukes (North, West, South)
・Marquis
・Earl
・Viscount
・Baron (Henrick was at the lowest level)
The East had:
Barons feuding with each other
・Corrupt Marquises collecting double taxes
・No Duke to maintain stability
No wonder this region is collapsing.
Arven swallowed.
If they didn't act fast, Oakridge would be bought, annexed, or seized.
And behind it all...
There were rumors of an Eastern noble who wanted to open a monster gate to sell protection.
Intrigue within intrigue.
Arven shivered.
I must get strong. As fast as possible.
Suddenly, the corner of the room shimmered. A small shadow appeared. Arven panicked—summoning activated automatically!
[Minor Object Summoning] produced a random object:
a lump of... bread knife.
He immediately fell to his knees.
Mana: 0/100
His body trembled.
I can't even summon two small objects without passing out...
Ironic, but realistic.
Arven sighed.
I have to train my mana slowly.
He took paper and wrote down the steps:
Crop rotation → 3 months
Waterwheel → 1 week
Mana training → daily
Uniting the farmers → 2 weeks
Monitoring the traitorous nobles
As he wrote, a knocking sound was heard.
A young farmer entered with a pale face.
"Young Master Arven... there was a small goblin raid on the fields tonight."
Arven stood up. "Anyone hurt?"
"No. But we lost two livestock."
Food prices would rise. This was bad.
Arven clenched his paper.
The East... a region where monsters seep in.
No Duke to hold the front line.
His eyes glistened slightly, not with weakness... but with determination.
"Tomorrow we'll build trap fences on the eastern side of the fields. I have an idea."
The farmer looked at him in admiration. "You're a Baron's son... but you work like a war academy student."
Arven gave a faint smile.
In my previous world, I was just an ordinary person.
But here... I have to be more than that.
Late at night, Arven climbed a small hill. The house lights flickered slowly. Far to the north, a blue light like a magic pillar shone—that was the border guarded by the Duke.
To the west, the salty sea wind carried the scent of spices.
To the south, the desert fires glowed red-gold.
And to the east... only darkness, seeping monsters, the smell of blood, and corruption.
Where he stood.
Arven squeezed the soil in his hand.
I will change this place.
From this humble starting point, into something.
The sky grew darker. The moon reflected on the small river.
Behind the trees, the silhouettes of several men were watching. One of them whispered:
"That kid is too clever. Let's report to Lord Feran."
Another replied, "Or we just eliminate him. Easier."
Arven didn't hear. But the night wind carried a bad premonition.
But one thing was certain:
He would not collapse.
Not in this world.
Not when he had a second chance.
This was no longer about survival.
This was about becoming an influential noble
for his family, his village, and a shattered future.
And perhaps—
... to prevent political chaos across the entire continent.
The journey of the poor Baron's son... had just begun.
To be continued...