The first thing Lucian noticed was the smell. Dust, decay, and the faint tang of old blood, the unmistakable scent of a dying empire. He opened his eyes slowly, expecting some grand awakening, perhaps golden light and celestial trumpets. Instead, he was greeted by a cracked ceiling, faded banners drooping like mournful shadows, and the soft scurry of panicked footsteps somewhere beyond the palace walls.
A throne room should feel imposing. Regal. Powerful. Elyndria's, however, felt like a mausoleum someone had tried to decorate. Marble floors cracked underfoot, columns wore deep scars of time and neglect, and the banners that once represented centuries of imperial glory now looked more like tattered rags left to bleed their colors into dust.
Lucian sat up, ignoring the immediate discomfort of stiff joints and a sense of deep, almost magical fatigue. He ran his hand over the silk sheets of the royal bed. The threads were frayed, and once luxurious embroidery faded. For a moment, he allowed himself to savor the irony. From Earth to this, huh?
He had died expecting nothing, a brief life of textbooks and lectures, debates and coffee-stained nights studying political systems. And now, here he was, sitting in the body of the last emperor of a vast, crumbling empire, tasked with rebuilding what should have been destroyed decades ago. Somehow, the universe thought this was funny.
Not even a welcome party, he muttered under his breath. Just dust, despair, and a very bad smell.
A voice somewhere off to the side cried out in panic. "Your Majesty! The eastern provinces have rebelled! The northern granaries have been raided! And the treasury… the treasury is empty!"
Lucian sighed. He had expected panic; he had not expected incompetence to be delivered with such dramatic flair. Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cold marble floor. It was a shocking temperature, the kind that made the body curse in a language older than empires.
He stood and approached the massive throne, a carved monstrosity of black obsidian and gold inlaid with mana-infused runes, though most of the magic had long since dimmed. He ran a hand over the intricate carvings, closing his eyes, absorbing the strange, aching pulse of an empire on its last breath.
Then, with a casual shrug, he pressed the heel of his palm against the central seal etched into the throne's base.
Ding!
A line of blue light shimmered across the marble floor, forming a rectangular panel that hovered before him. Simple. Clean. Like every fantasy system he had ever read about, only now, it was his.
[System Initialization Complete.]
[Welcome, Summoning Sovereign.]
[Detected Host's Empire in Severe Decline.]
[Emergency Summon Slots Unlocked: 2 Units Available.]
Lucian arched an eyebrow. Well, that's more like it.
He leaned closer, scanning the information. The panel detailed the empire's current status: population unrest, rebel factions, famine-stricken provinces, corruption, and military weakness. It even suggested that several nobles were plotting to seize power if he did not act quickly. Faith Points, the system's metric of citizen trust and loyalty, were essentially nonexistent.
He nodded slowly. This was exactly the kind of challenge he had been born for, or more accurately, reborn for.
[Suggested Action: Stabilize the Capital.]
[Suggested Action: Summon Loyal Units.]
Lucian smirked. Suggested action. How polite.
Alright, he murmured, voice calm and cold, let's see what you've got.
The panel shimmered again. Two summon options appeared, hovering with a soft blue glow:
Divine Chancellor – Administrative expert, unparalleled knowledge of governance and law.
Heavenly Knight Commander – Military strategist and combat leader, sworn to absolute loyalty.
Lucian tapped the Divine Chancellor option first.
[Summoning…]
A soft, ethereal light filled the throne room, and when it cleared, a figure knelt before him. Clad in robes that shimmered with a faint gold light, the Chancellor bowed deeply, eyes glowing with faint mana.
"I am yours to command, Sovereign," the figure intoned, voice calm but imbued with authority. "Administration, strategy, and counsel, all at your disposal."
Lucian's lips quirked upward. Loyalty. Absolute. I like it already.
Next, he summoned the Heavenly Knight Commander. A second light flared, more intense this time. When it faded, a towering armored figure stood before him, sword at the ready, eyes burning with loyalty and unyielding focus.
"I serve," the Knight Commander said simply, kneeling. "The empire and you, Sovereign."
Lucian tapped the side of his chin. Excellent. No betrayal, no complaints, no excuses. Just results. I like my employees like my generals: loyal, efficient, and slightly terrified.
[Faith Points +2000]
[Empire Morale Rising in the Capital]
He gestured to the chaotic mess outside the throne room doors. Courtiers ran about, paper and scrolls clutched in trembling hands. Reports of rebellions, famine, and internal strife spilled into the air like a flood.
Lucian didn't flinch. He raised a hand, the summons at his side already anticipating his next command.
"Seal the palace gates. Gather all loyal soldiers. Notify the nobility: those who resist will be removed without prejudice. The rest? They earn their place by contribution, not by bloodline."
The Knight Commander bowed sharply. "Understood."
The Chancellor produced a glowing parchment, rapidly transcribing Lucian's orders into a system of clear instructions for every bureaucrat in the capital. By the time the courtiers realized what was happening, the palace was calm, and the chaos transformed into order with terrifying efficiency.
Lucian leaned back against the throne. Well, that was easier than expected.
A young noble who had been hovering nervously at the edge of the room attempted to speak. "Your Majesty… the refugees from the northern wars are approaching. We… we can't feed them all, and the provinces are already stretched to breaking!"
Lucian looked at him calmly, smirk widening. Feed them. Shelter them. Let them work the land, rebuild the granaries, and repay your hospitality with loyalty. They're not a problem; they're the next generation of Elyndria's strength. And every grateful citizen adds Faith Points to the empire. We'll even let the system handle the details.
[Faith Points +3400]
[New Department Unlocked: Imperial Bureau of Immigration & Population]
The courtiers blinked. The noble stammered, B-but… that's impossible! The treasury—
Lucian held up a hand. Impossible is what my predecessors called daily life. I call it an opportunity.
He turned toward the towering windows, and the city sprawled beneath the fading light of sunset. Rebels were marching on the outskirts. Famine spread across distant provinces. Nobles whispered treachery in every shadowed hall. Yet, he was calm, even amused.
The empire is dying, yes. But that doesn't mean it has to stay dead.
[Ding!]
[Chapter Complete: Palace Stabilized]
[Next Objective Unlocked: Restore Faith of the Capital]
Lucian grinned, eyes glinting with cold delight. Perfect. Step one: secure the throne. Step two: rebuild the empire. Step three… watch the world burn while I profit from its ashes.
He stood on the balcony of the palace, wind whipping his hair, and looked out across Elyndria. The faint hum of mana and magic drifted through the city, and beneath it, the empire's pulse began to rise again.
Somewhere, the neighboring kingdoms must be watching. The refugees marching toward his gates would change the balance of power. And every noble, every rebel, every traitor would soon learn a simple, terrifying truth.
Lucian Aethernox had returned.
And this time, the Elyndrian Empire would obey.